My Brother's True Obsession

I froze.

Hold up. Vanessa knew Ryan?

But that was impossible. In the book, the poisoning was supposed to be the first time they met.

So why…

Ryan's cool, steady voice cut through my spinning thoughts. "I'm fine now. Thanks, Vanessa. I really appreciate it."

"It's nothing. I'm glad you're okay." She gave him a soft smile.

The scene looked warm and perfect. My chest tightened. Did that mean the story was still pushing forward on its set path, no matter what I tried?

Even though I had stopped Vanessa from saving Ryan with her body, I still couldn't stop them from meeting.

And the fact that Ryan called her first when he was in danger meant he trusted her more than anyone.

I hated admitting it, but I was jealous.

"So, Ryan, you two know each other?"

"Yeah," Ryan said. His gaze shifted to me, deep and unreadable. "She's my business partner."

I froze. The story was moving ahead earlier than it should.

In the novel, Vanessa was supposed to join Ryan's company later, and that was when their feelings started heating up. Soon after, she'd even move into our house, and my parents would start treating her like their future daughter-in-law.

Meanwhile, I'd keep making mistakes, ruining everything, until I got kicked out of the house, while Vanessa flourished like the heroine she was.

I was terrified. Was I really doomed to lose everything and die miserably?

No. Not if I stopped making trouble, not if I played it right this time.

"Ryan," I whispered, clutching his hand, nervous but determined. "What happened with the poisoning was just a mistake. From now on, I'll take care of you, and I'll do whatever you say."

"Okay."

Ryan's eyes stayed on me, unreadable. I wasn't sure if he actually believed me or was just acknowledging me.

Then he asked Vanessa to leave and told me to help check him out of the hospital.

All the way home, he stayed calm, almost too calm. There was no blaming or anger.

That only heightened my unease.

Ryan wasn't the kind of guy to let things slide. He was obsessive by nature. If I hurt him, he would never just let it go.

That night, I was the one who broke first.

Normally, Ryan cooked all our meals. But when he was upset, he wouldn't cook at all. Which made sense—but it also left me starving.

So I caved. I slipped out to the street and picked up some takeout barbecue—ribs, barbecue chicken, and cornbread.

The smell was so good that I was tempted to gobble them up on the walk home.

I came home, ready to tear into it, when suddenly, the living room lights went out.

I jumped, the bag in my hand falling to the floor. Just like that, my food was gone.

Before I could even mourn it, a tall figure stepped out of the dark, pressing me back against the door.

It was Ryan.

The faint scent of laundry soap clung to him. I bought it, so I recognized it instantly.

And now, he was so close that I could barely breathe.

He wrapped his arm around my waist, then reached back and locked the door.

My mind spun.

What was this? Some kind of role playing?

Wild thoughts crashed through my head, and I swallowed hard. "Ryan—"

He cut me off, his voice low with anger.

"Where were you? You went to Melvin again, didn't you? You still won't listen."

He pulled off his belt and held my wrists.

Ryan had finally given in to that possessiveness, the one he always tried to hide.

And honestly? That was exactly what I wanted.

"Ryan," I said softly, lifting my hands toward him. "Are you trying to tie me up?"