Trapped By The CEO's Obsessive Love

The sudden silence in the bathroom was deafening. Chloe grabbed a large white towel from the rack. She pulled open the bathroom door and ran down the short hallway into the master bedroom.

She threw the towel onto a chair, scrambled into the massive bed, and pulled the heavy duvet up to her chin. She squeezed her eyes shut and forced her chest to rise and fall in a slow, even rhythm.

The heavy front door of the penthouse swung open. Julian Kensington III stepped into the entryway, bringing the cold, sharp energy of a Wall Street boardroom with him. He reached up, loosened his silk tie, and tossed it onto the leather sofa. His dark eyes swept across the empty living room. A deep crease formed between his brows.

He pulled his phone from his suit pocket. The screen was blank. Chloe had not replied to the message he sent three hours ago.

A familiar, dark irritation flared in his chest. He adjusted his cuffs, his jaw tightening. He walked down the hallway, his leather shoes sinking into the thick carpet, muting his heavy footsteps.

He pushed open the double doors of the master bedroom. The room was dim, the curtains drawn. He saw the small lump under the covers in the center of the bed.

The rigid line of his jaw relaxed slightly. He walked to the side of the bed and stood over her, his tall frame casting a long shadow.

Chloe felt the mattress dip under his weight. The scent of expensive cedar cologne mixed with faint cigar smoke washed over her. Her stomach churned.

She gripped the edge of the duvet under the covers, her knuckles turning white, fighting the urge to tremble.

Julian reached out. His long, cool fingers brushed a strand of blonde hair away from her cheek.

The sudden contact sent a shock of cold through her skin. Chloe flinched, her shoulders shrinking away from his hand.

Julian's hand paused in mid-air. His eyes narrowed. He leaned down, his face inches from hers. His breath, warm and smelling of mint, brushed her ear.

"Sweetheart," he said, his voice low and testing.

Chloe knew she could not pretend anymore. She fluttered her eyelashes and opened her eyes, blinking as if disoriented. "Julian?" she murmured, keeping her voice hoarse.

Julian did not smile. He pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her face up. His gaze was sharp, dissecting her expression. "Why didn't you answer my text?"

Chloe swallowed the dry lump in her throat. "I was dizzy. I didn't feel well. I've been sleeping."

At the words 'didn't feel well', a dark, intense light flared in Julian's eyes. His gaze dropped from her face to the thick duvet covering her stomach.

He released her chin. His large hand moved down, resting flat against her abdomen through the blankets. He rubbed his thumb in a slow, deliberate circle. The gesture was terrifyingly possessive.

The nausea hit Chloe again, violent and sudden. She shoved his hand away and bolted upright, scrambling back against the headboard.

Julian's hand hung in the empty space. The temperature in the room plummeted. His face turned to stone, his eyes turning black with immediate, cold fury.

Chloe realized her mistake. She clamped both hands over her mouth. "Acid reflux," she gasped through her fingers. "My stomach is burning."

Julian stared at her for a long, suffocating moment. The muscle in his jaw ticked. He slowly lowered his hand and turned away, walking toward the walk-in closet.

Chloe let out a shaky breath, her chest heaving. A thin layer of cold sweat coated her forehead.

A few minutes later, Julian emerged wearing dark cashmere loungewear. He stopped at the foot of the bed. "Get up. Go to the dining room. It is time for dinner."

Chloe shook her head, pressing her back harder against the headboard. "I really don't have an appetite. I just want to sleep."

Julian did not move. His voice dropped an octave, carrying a quiet, absolute authority. "Do not make me angry tonight, Chloe."

The threat hung in the air, heavy and real. Chloe's defiance crumbled. She slowly pushed the covers aside and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Her limbs felt like lead.

The corner of Julian's mouth lifted in a cold smile. He closed the distance between them, wrapped his arm tightly around her waist, and pulled her against his side. Her body was stiff as a board, but he ignored it, steering her out of the bedroom.

They walked down the hallway together. The silence between them was thick, vibrating with unspoken tension.

They entered the dining room. The butler stood quietly in the corner. The long mahogany table was set. The silver cutlery gleamed under the crystal chandelier.