My Obsession
Power. Desire. Blood.
Lauretta Owens has everything-money, beauty, and power that makes even Alphas step back. As CEO of LuneArt Studios, she rules her world with poise and precision. But beneath her confidence lies a secret hunger-to have a little baby of her own though she doesn't care about men or relationships.
One wild night in Manhattan changes everything when she meets Savior Hunt-a devastatingly handsome stranger whose aura screams danger and dominance. Neither of them knows that their encounter will awaken an ancient feud buried in blood.
Lauretta is the daughter of a banished wolf family. Savior is the only heir of the pack that destroyed them.
When passion turns to obsession, and obsession turns to destiny, both must face the truth: they were never meant to love each other... yet they can't stay away.
Torn between duty and desire, loyalty and love, they risk everything to be together-even if it means defying the moon itself.
My Obsession is a dark, seductive werewolf romance filled with explosive chemistry, pack politics, and forbidden passion.
Two powerful souls. One cursed bond.
And a love so dangerous, it could start a war.
Chapters
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Chapter 6
Savior Hunt had never been this unfocused in his life.
Not during Alpha training.
Not during combat trials.
Not even during the time the west border pack launched a midnight attack and he fought six wolves at once.
But one woman - one night - had wrecked him.
Lauretta.
Her name tasted like temptation on his tongue.
His wolf practically purred whenever he thought it.
And lately?
He thought about her every damned minute.
Her laugh.
Her attitude.
Her scent that clung to his memory like it owned him.
He drove like a man possessed toward Silvercrest City, heart thudding with a strange mix of anticipation and dread. He didn't even know what he'd do when he found her.
Hold her?
Touch her?
Smell her?
Fight her?
Kiss her until she forgot all sense?
His wolf wanted all of it.
But he had no plan.
He only had need.
---
The Hunt mansion was loud. Voices filled the halls as warriors trained outside and advisors argued inside. Hexta's voice boomed from his office, barking orders about the upcoming summit.
The moment Savior stepped inside, heads turned.
"Alpha's son."
"Future Alpha."
"Sir."
He nodded stiffly and kept walking. His mind wasn't here. Not today.
He needed to find her.
He tried to take the stairs two at a time, hoping to escape before-
"SAAAAVIOR!"
Too late.
Dew Philips - Beta's son, smug bastard, and Savior's best friend - launched himself at him like an enthusiastic puppy.
Savior caught him by the shoulders, groaning. "Dew, what the hell?"
Dew grinned, eyes gleaming with trouble. "So... rumor has it that our dear, emotionally constipated Alpha-to-be disappeared for two days on his 'business trip.' Which is interesting because last I checked, you don't do business in Manhattan nightclubs."
Savior stiffened.
Dew smirked wider. "Ah. So the rumors are true."
"There are no rumors," Savior said tightly.
"Oh please. The guards saw you stumbling in at dawn smelling like perfume and sin." Dew elbowed him. "Spill. Who's the woman? Why is your wolf pacing like you put caffeine in its food?"
Savior stared at him.
Dew's mouth fell open. "HOLY SHIT. IT'S TRUE?!"
And then he burst out laughing.
Savior dragged a hand down his face. "Dew-"
"Oh my god, the cold, stoic, terrifying Savior Hunt actually slept with someone! After what-two years? Three? Was it amazing? It must've been. You look traumatized."
Savior didn't answer.
His silence was answer enough.
Dew froze.
"Oh... oh no. It was THAT good?"
Savior exhaled sharply. "Drop it."
Dew looked horrified. "Dude. Are you... in love?"
Savior nearly choked. "Dew, I swear to-"
"Okay, okay! Don't punch me. But seriously, what did she do to you? Did she hex you? Bite you? Whisper sweet nothings in your ear?"
Savior's jaw clenched.
"She didn't do anything," he said quietly. "I... don't know what's happening to me."
Dew blinked.
And for a rare moment, the teasing dropped.
"...Shit. It's that serious?"
"Yeah."
Dew rubbed the back of his neck. "Okay. Then start talking. What's her name? Where's she from? Is she human? Wolf? A witch? Is she hot? Actually, scratch that - she HAS to be hot if you're this messed up."
"Her name is Lauretta," Savior muttered.
Dew raised a brow. "And?"
"And that's all I know."
Dew stared.
"Wait. Wait-WAIT. You don't know anything else?" he exclaimed. "Savior! Did you at least check if you used protection?! What if she's pregnant?!"
Savior stiffened so violently that Dew's eyes widened.
"...Oh gods," Dew whispered. "You didn't."
"I didn't," Savior growled.
Dew let out a strangled laugh. "Wow. You really said 'fuck responsibility' and meant it."
"Dew-"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Continue. What else do we know about Lauretta?"
Savior hesitated.
He didn't tell Dew about the LuneArt Studios post.
About the picture.
About the fact that she lived here - in his territory.
He didn't have to.
Because his wolf suddenly snapped awake.
She's close.
Savior inhaled slowly.
There it was.
Her scent.
Faint but present.
Like moonlit jasmine drifting through sunlight.
He stiffened.
Dew noticed instantly. "Bro... are you okay?"
"She's in Silvercrest," Savior said quietly.
Dew blinked. "Wait - WHAT? Your one-night mystery woman is HERE?!"
Savior didn't bother answering.
He brushed past Dew, instincts igniting like wildfire.
He needed to see her.
Now.
"Savior!"
"Jeez, you couldn't even take off your suit man" Dew called after him.
Dew sighs, "What love can do "
He shakes his head and walks inside.
---
The normal and rational Savior would have been busy with meetings or pack duties.
He should've gone to train.
Should've gone to the council room.
Should've checked in with his father.
But instead...
He drove.
Straight into the city.
Straight toward the LuneArt Studios building.
He told himself he was just curious.
He told himself he just wanted a glimpse.
He told himself he didn't care.
All lies.
His wolf practically hummed with anticipation as he passed the tall glass building with the glowing moon emblem.
He slowed the car.
There - through the fourth-floor windows.
Lauretta Owens walked across the studio like she owned the world.
Wearing a fitted navy jumpsuit.
Hair slicked back into a ponytail.
Sharp eyes.
Sharp heels.
Sharp tongue - he could still hear her voice in his head.
She commanded the room with a presence that made even the walls straighten.
Savior's breath left him.
"Fuck."
She looked... beautiful.
Untouchable.
Perfect.
He gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white.
His wolf practically whined, pressing against his mind.
Go to her.
Touch her.
Smell her.
Claim her.
"No," Savior whispered. "Not yet."
"It doesn't work that way, she might have even forgotten about me" he mutters.
He couldn't walk in.
Not until he figured out what the hell this connection was.
Not until he knew what he wanted.
He forced himself to drive away.
Barely.
---
THE DINING HALL - HUNT MANSION
Later that evening, the dining hall was full. The long wooden table was lined with warriors, pack members, advisors - and the Philips family.
Amira sat beside him, smiling sweetly. Too sweetly.
"Welcome back," she said softly.
Savior grunted. "Thanks."
"You look tired," she added, placing a delicate hand on his arm.
His wolf growled instantly.
He moved his arm away.
Amira's face fell, but she recovered. She always did.
She wanted him.
She'd always wanted him.
But he had never felt anything for her.
Not even a spark.
Savior stabbed his food with unnecessary aggression.
Dew leaned in from across the table and whispered, "You're acting like a lovesick teenager with anger issues."
Savior didn't look up. "Shut up."
Dew smirked. "Okay, Romeo."
Jasmine watched him with worried eyes.
Hexta watched him with suspicion.
Savior's head was full of Lauretta.
The way she looked at him.
The way she moaned.
The way she didn't fear him.
The way she-
"Son," Hexta said sharply, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Where is your mind tonight?"
Savior answered honestly.
"Not here."
Gasps rippled down the table.
"Woah..." Dew gasps.
Earning a glare from his father.
Hexta's eyes narrowed. "You are distracted."
"Yes," Savior said evenly.
"And that is unacceptable."
"Maybe I don't care."
Hexta slammed his fist against the table so hard the plates rattled.
"Savior Hunt! You do NOT get to fall apart! You do NOT get to be distracted! You are the heir! You are the future Alpha! You-"
"I know," Savior said quietly. "But right now... I need space."
Jasmine touched Hexta's arm. "Enough. Let him breathe."
"Breathe?" Hexta snapped. "He smells like a woman! His wolf is unsteady! This is the exact recklessness that destroyed the Owens!"
Savior stiffened.
Lauretta's image flashed in his mind.
He didn't know her last name.
He didn't know her family.
He didn't know her history.
He didn't know... anything.
Except that he wanted her.
Badly.
Painfully.
Dangerously.
He stood abruptly from the table.
"I'm done here."
"Savior!" Jasmine called softly.
But he was already walking out.
Already choking on the memory of Lauretta's scent.
Already in too deep.
"What the actual hell am I supposed to do with myself?" He mutters.
---
Savior returned to his room, heart beating too hard, mind spinning.
He shut the door.
The scent of moonlight and jasmine slammed into him.
His wolf surged.
Snarling. Growling. Demanding.
He fell to his knees, gripping the floor.
FIND HER.
WE NEED HER.
NOW.
Savior groaned, chest burning with longing.
"Oh Lauretta, you're like a f*cking virus, you're eating me up from inside!"
"Fuck!" He shouts grabbing a handful of his hair.
He wanted her so badly he felt sick.
This wasn't normal.
This wasn't rational.
This wasn't-
He stood abruptly.
"I'm going to find her."
His wolf howled in triumph.
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7.3
She was sent to destroy him.
A man feared in the shadows, a mafia lord whose name alone commanded power and blood. Serafina Dunes had one mission: send Rapheal Dekoms to hell.
Murdered by her husband's mistress, Yuanita Serra was ripped from life before her time-only to be reborn as a missionier, and her first task was to kill Rapheal Dekoms. But fate had other plans. What was meant to be a deadly mission became a dangerous game of desire and hate, where every glance and every touch ignited a fire she couldn't control-and threatened to unravel everything he had ever built.
8.6
Found you
8.6
Naomi Nelson thought her life was ordinary.
A quiet high school student trying to survive exams, friendships, and the confusing emotions of teenage love. But everything changes the night she receives a mysterious message attached to a bracelet she doesn't remember owning.
"I found you."
Soon Naomi discovers that the bracelet belonged to her late father-and it holds the key to a powerful company he helped create before his mysterious death.
With the help of Ethan Cole, the intelligent and determined boy who has always stood quietly beside her, Naomi begins uncovering secrets buried deep in her father's past. But the closer they get to the truth, the more dangerous things become.
Strangers begin watching them.
Hidden enemies emerge.
And someone is willing to do anything to claim what Naomi unknowingly inherited.
As trust is tested and feelings grow stronger between Naomi and Ethan, one question begins to haunt her:
Is Ethan protecting her... or hiding something from her?
In a story filled with mystery, betrayal, and love, Naomi must uncover the truth about her father before the past catches up with her.
Because someone out there has been waiting years to find her.
And now...
they finally have.
9.4
My husband, the ruthless Underboss of the Ewing crime family, was terrified of one thing: his dead fiancée’s memory.
Or rather, her living sister, Ivana, who used that memory to turn my life into a living hell.
To "apologize" for humiliating me at a gala, Corbett brought me a peace offering: a green macaron.
"Pistachio," he promised. "Your favorite."
I took one bite, and my throat instantly seized. It felt like barbed wire tightening around my windpipe.
It wasn't pistachio. It was almond paste.
Corbett knew I was deadly allergic. He used to carry my EpiPen on our first dates.
As I collapsed to the floor, wheezing and clawing at my neck, a scream ripped from the guest wing.
"Corbett! Help! They're posting mean comments about me again!"
Ivana.
Corbett looked down at me, his dying wife, and then looked toward the hallway where Ivana was crying over Instagram.
He hesitated for only a second.
Then he pulled his leg away from my grasping hand.
"I'll be right back," he said, turning his back on me. "Just... use your pen."
He ran to comfort a healthy woman while I crawled across the carpet, vision tunneling, forcing the needle into my own thigh to restart my heart.
As I lay there shaking, listening to him soothe her, the last thread of love snapped.
I didn't call an ambulance.
I pulled a burner phone from behind the vanity mirror and texted the one man Corbett feared more than death—his rival, Don Kain Solomon.
"I accept. Get me out."
9.5
Eight days after my c-section, my husband left me and our hungry, premature newborn alone.
He rushed to his manipulative ex-girlfriend, Cassidy, who was faking another one of her "panic attacks," just as he always did.
His obsession with "saving" her had already caused our son's premature birth. This time, it got him killed.
In a jealous rage, Cassidy slammed her car into us, and my baby was gone.
But when I woke up in the hospital, Kevin was protecting her, not me.
He told me it was an accident, that her diagnosed mental illness made her not responsible. He even had our son cremated without my consent, erasing all the evidence.
He begged me to forgive them, to let it all blow over so we could be a family again.
I looked at the man who had destroyed my life and smiled.
"I called the police, Kevin," I said, showing him my phone. "And that medical certificate you're holding? It's a fake."
8.6
Kim had thought she could live without Ari. Without the laughter, the late night talks, the quiet warmth of someone who felt like home. But Ari returned changed, apologetic and impossible to ignore. Loving her once nearly Kim. Loving her again might just heal her. Some loves never really end...they just wait.
7.6
I pulled the perfectly baked Beef Wellington from the oven, its rich scent filling our Manhattan penthouse. For five years, I’d crafted this perfect life, but tonight, I’d discover my entire existence was a cruel, silent lie. The man I loved had built it all on betrayal.
Preparing our anniversary dinner, I reflected on five years of building a flawless home for Blake, a dream I’d never known.
Searching for a pen, I found a hidden compartment in Blake’s desk containing a cheap black USB drive—a significant secret for a man who despised anything less than perfect.
His MacBook unlocked with his birthday, not ours. The USB, after a near-data-wipe, revealed "The Archives": hundreds of photos of Blake with his college girlfriend, Isabelle, passionate love letters, and a wardrobe chosen to mirror hers. My name yielded "0 results found," while millions were wired to Isabelle.
I was a meticulously funded stand-in, a ghost he dressed up to play house. My non-existence in his world and his financial betrayal ignited a cold, burning rage.
Blake returned, dismissive, offering a delayed anniversary gift. I confronted him; he ripped the USB, snapped it, and stated, "Nothing changes, as long as you know your place." My obedience shattered: "I want a divorce," I declared, then destroyed dinner and packed my own bag.