Trapped By The CEO's Obsessive Love

Julian pulled out the heavy mahogany chair at the side of the table. He looked at Chloe, a silent command in his eyes.

Chloe moved stiffly. She sat down. The butler lifted the silver cloche in front of her. The rich, heavy scent of garlic butter escargot and thick cream of mushroom soup hit her face. Her stomach seized in a violent cramp.

Julian took his seat at the head of the table. He picked up his crystal wine glass, took a slow sip of the dark red liquid, and watched her. He waited for her to lean over and offer the customary kiss of gratitude.

Chloe kept her head down. The smell of the cream was suffocating. She gripped the handle of her silver fork until her fingers ached, staring at the white tablecloth.

Julian lowered his glass. He set it down on the table with a sharp, hard crack.

Chloe jumped in her seat. She looked up, her eyes wide, meeting his dark, furious stare.

"Have you forgotten how to please me?" Julian asked, his voice like ice.

Chloe bit the inside of her cheek. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I really can't eat this. I have no appetite."

Julian pushed his chair back. He stood up, his tall frame casting a long shadow over the table. He walked slowly around the edge until he stood directly behind her chair.

He placed both hands on the back of her chair, leaning over her. His presence was a physical weight pressing down on her shoulders.

He reached over her shoulder and picked up her silver soup spoon. He dipped it into the bowl, scooping up a thick portion of the mushroom cream. He held it right in front of her lips.

The smell of dairy and earth filled her nose. Chloe turned her face away, pressing her lips tightly together.

Julian's left hand shot out. He gripped her jaw, his fingers digging into her skin, and forced her head back to face forward.

"Eat it," he said softly, his breath hot against her temple. "Or tomorrow morning, the funds in your father's medical account will be frozen."

The threat hit her like a physical blow. Her father was lying in a facility, dependent on that money to survive. Chloe's eyes instantly filled with tears. Her resistance shattered.

Her lips trembled as she opened her mouth. She took the spoonful of soup.

The thick, rich liquid slid onto her tongue. Her gag reflex kicked in immediately. She slapped her hand over her mouth, tears spilling down her cheeks, and forced herself to swallow. It felt like swallowing poison.

Julian released her jaw. He walked back to his seat and sat down. "Finish the bowl."

Chloe picked up her spoon. Her movements were robotic. She scooped the soup, brought it to her mouth, and swallowed. Tears dripped off her chin and landed silently on her lap. Every bite was torture.

Julian watched her eat. The tight lines of anger around his mouth slowly smoothed out. A dark, twisted satisfaction settled in his eyes as he watched her submit.

Halfway through the bowl, her stomach violently rebelled. Chloe dropped the spoon. It clattered against the bowl. She clamped both hands over her mouth, shoved her chair back, and ran toward the hallway bathroom.

She fell to her knees in front of the toilet and vomited. Everything she had just forced down came back up.

Julian strode into the bathroom a moment later. He stood in the doorway, his brow deeply furrowed as he watched her heave.

He walked to the sink, filled a glass with warm water, and crouched beside her. He held the glass out. "What is wrong with you?" he asked, a tight edge of genuine tension in his voice.

Chloe took the glass with shaking hands. She rinsed her mouth and spit. She leaned her head back against the cool tile wall. "I think the seafood from lunch was bad," she lied, her voice weak.

Julian's eyes narrowed. He did not believe her. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He tapped the screen.

Chloe saw the contact name. Dr. Thorne. Panic surged through her. She lunged forward and grabbed his wrist. "No. Please. Don't call him. I just need to lie down. Don't make a fuss."

Julian looked down at her hand wrapped around his wrist. Her skin was freezing cold and trembling violently. He turned his hand over and gripped her wrist, his thumb pressing into her racing pulse.

He stared into her pale face for a long second. He locked his phone and shoved it back into his pocket. He bent down, slid one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, and lifted her into the air.

He carried her down the hall and into the bedroom. He laid her on the mattress and pulled the duvet up to her chin.

He turned and walked into the master bathroom. Chloe heard the water turn on in the sink. She closed her eyes, the darkness offering no comfort. She knew the lie would not hold much longer.