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The Billionaire's Obsession; Her Toxic Desires. Novel Cover

The Billionaire's Obsession; Her Toxic Desires.

He is in pain, but so is she. He is her cure, and she is his sweet addiction... Resisting her boss is the hardest thing Caitlyn has ever had to do, especially when she's married to the man she thinks she loves. How can she be so lose and lack self control? She has no idea, all she wants is to be claimed by him, her ruthless billionaire boss. These dangerous, toxic desires will soon graduate into something more sinister and more twisted that she could have ever imagined. How will Caitlyn survive the danger that comes with being the billionaire's obsession? *** "You torment me." "You will be the end of me." My body shudders, awaiting his touch. Waiting is torture, I want him to touch me now. "Claim me, do it now." I whisper. "Well.." he breathes on my skin, "Your wish is my command, kitten."
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Chapter 6

Caitlyn's pov.

"The magistrate will be here tomorrow morning to register our wedding." Zayn said, taking giant strides towards the elevator as if a war was coming. I had to run after him if I wanted to make it into the elevator with him.

"Why so soon?" I asked, panting as he pressed the third floor button. The elevator dinged shut and he raised a brow at me, his face unreadable.

"I have a business deal to land, Caitlyn, try to keep up. After the wedding, we're going to attend an event where you'll meet delegates and important personalities." He read out and I scratched my head.

The information seemed like a lot to take in, everything was happening too fast. I took in a deep breath, his cologne filling my nostrils and leaving me weak in the knees once again.

"But.. I don't know anyone, what do I even say?" My voice was frail as I was struggling to remain sane beside my hot boss.

"Vladimir will tell you all you need to know."

"Who's Vladimir?"

"You'll find out."

He didn't say another word to me after that, almost like he turned himself off. I attempted to start a conversation after we got out of the elevator but all I got in return was scowls and glares. He can be so annoying, it's hard to believe that he is the same guy who was cock deep inside me last night.

"Where are you going?" He suddenly stopped walking and faced me. I swallowed, confused.

"Following you, sir."

"It's past midnight, go to bed. We have a long day ahead of us." He said and strutted off, disappearing into another hallway while I stood there with a lump in my throat and my fists balled beside me.

How is it so easy for him to move on and pretend like nothing happened between us? He's treating me like a stranger, and here I was, thinking that we shared something.

He's Zayn Morrison after all, this is what he's known for. I knew this, but my chest still burned from the pain.

"Miss?"

I turned around to see Miss Rose smiling at me.

"Your room is this way."

I nodded and followed her, going back to the same room that I had tried to escape from. I slumped into the bed after changing into a pair of pajamas that I found in the walk-in closet, and within minutes, I fell asleep.

******

"The magistrate is here."

Miss Rose's voice came while I was trying to force the tiny blue dress down my head. It was the only dress available, my bags were still at the office. It would have been my size if I hadn't had a breakfast meant for two people before coming up to get dressed.

"I'll be down in a sec." I answered, finally pulling the dress down.

I brushed back my hair with my hand and smiled at my reflection. I thought I looked good, so I went downstairs to meet Zayn and the magistrate.

I came out of the elevator and walked towards the living room. Zayn was discussing with two other men. One was dressed corporately, I guessed he was the lawyer, while the other man wore a casual outfit, his face stone cold. He didn't look American.

"Sorry I'm late, couldn't find anything to wear." I chuckled nervously, tugging on the dress.

Zayn finally turned around, and I swear I saw him break a sweat when he set his eyes on me. His Adam's apple bobbed as his eyes ravaged me, exploring every inch of my body. My cheeks heated up and turned away, taking my seat.

"Uh.. yeah, I'll have someone pick up your clothes today." He cleared his throat and faced the lawyer. "Can we proceed?"

"Yes," the middle aged lawyer adjusted his glasses and pulled out a bunch of papers from his suitcase. "What about her witness?" He pointed at me and I raised my eyebrows in confusion.

"She doesn't need any witness, Vladimir is here for both of us." Zayn quickly answered, focusing on the papers in front of him.

Oh.. so he's Vladimir.

"Alright then. I don't think there's any need for the formalities, we can just go right ahead and.."

"You talk way too much. Open the fucking document!"

Zayn's outburst made me flinch. Why is he so impatient?

"Sorry sir." The lawyer shivered, quickly opening the document and pointing out where we should sign. Zayn picked up the pen first and signed, while I watched and wondered if I was really about to do the right thing.

I raised my head only to find Vladimir staring at me. He didn't even bother to look away, and I couldn't decipher why he was even looking at me. His face was just as unreadable as Zayn's, and something about him made me shift in my seat.

"Caitlyn!" Zayn snapped, and I flinched again, blinking at him.

"Yes." I answered, taking the pen from him and signing my own part of the document.

I didn't understand why he was being so hostile towards me all of a sudden.

"You're both husband and wife." The lawyer pronounced and my heart sunk. It suddenly dawned on me that I had gotten married to my boss just a day after divorcing my shithead husband.

How on earth did I even get myself into this mess? I fell back on the couch, trailing off for a moment. What the hell have I done? My heart was racing, and my head started to itch badly.

"Are you okay?" I heard a deep voice out of nowhere and I jolted from my thoughts, only to find Vladimir standing in front of me. He was taller than I thought.

"I'm fine."

"Well, Zayn just left with the lawyer, and he asked me to tell you everything you need to know about the event tonight." His accent was Russian, I guess that would explain his name. He made himself comfortable beside me.

"He already left?" I asked.

"Yes. Now, pay attention to every little detail that I'm going to give. The event is a gathering of esteemed men and women from various organizations. Tech, insurance, cosmetics, celebrities, literally any organization you can think of. So here's all you need to know."

Vladimir explained everything perfectly to me like I was a toddler, completely countering the impression I had of him at first. He was nice, and I felt really comfortable around him.

Soon, he was done explaining everything, but I was nervous about being presented to everyone as Zayn's wife.

Later that night, Zayn returned with a bag, it contained a dress, the dress that I was supposed to wear to the event. It was a long red dress with gold embellishments, and a thigh high slit, completely different from what I was used to. It came with expensive looking gold jewelry, and a pair of YSL heels to go with it.

"Get dressed." He ordered, "we'll be leaving soon." He tried to walk away but I stopped him, hurt by his coldness towards me.

"Did I do something wrong?" I stared down at my feet and he grunted.

"What do you mean? And look at me when you're talking to me." He said and I raised my head immediately.

"You.. you have been cold to me since yesterday, and I thought.."

"You thought what?" He quickly cut me off and I swallowed. "You thought we were going to become best buddies after we spent one night together? You're just one of the other girls, so don't get ahead of yourself."

My heart dropped to my feet, and I stood there, glued to the floor with tears streaming down my face as I watched him walk away.

My fists tightened and I grabbed the dress, along with the jewelry, walking out of the manor.

"Just one of the other girls? Then why did he ask me to marry him!?" Tears burned the corners of my eyes as I stuffed the dress into the trash can, making sure I buried it at the bottom of the can.

"Fuck you and your dress, Zayn Morrison."

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