Page 28 of Obsessed Heir

Anxiety surges inside me, leaving me fidgety and on edge. Unable to stand his silent judgment, I stride away, leaving him behind as I move through the store.

My heart’s racing. I go from one rack to another, knowing I won’t be purchasing anything, even if I find something affordable. Not with Barron casting a shadow over me at every step.

The tension inside me grows. I make my way through the aisles of the interconnected stores blindly, needing to put some distance between us.

The shopping area’s open concept is designed to keep customers flowing from one store to the next during business hours.

My palms are sweating as I sidestep the other casual shoppers milling about. The area seems smaller somehow, and it’s fast becoming claustrophobic.

Tables on either side of me display all manner of merchandise. Glossy advertisements with models and celebrities hang on the walls, but I can’t focus on any of them.

The urge to simply break free and run is overwhelming, a primal impulse to flee from the threat. But I can’t show Barron any outward sign of weakness. Feeling utterly flustered, I pivot, desperate to put more distance between us.

Someone approaching from the opposite direction cuts off to the left to avoid me. I’m not foolish enough to think they’removing for my sake. They’re clearing a path for the six-foot-tall Neanderthal coming up behind me.

Another tremor cuts through me as Barron continues to unsettle me. He could have been someone I’d see as a mentor, or even a savior of sorts—with a touch of youthful hero worship added to the list. But when we finally came face-to-face, the only thing in his cold eyes was disdain and judgment.

Something inside me shriveled up and withered at that moment. After that, all I could only envision Barron as a harsh taskmaster, wielding a menacing whip to snap at my heels.

I navigate through the next interconnected store. My attention is split between frantically scanning my surroundings for an exit and the imposing man behind me. Barron’s unwavering gaze bores into me like a heavy yoke across my shoulders.

My arm bumps against a carousel filled with trinkets and knick-knacks, sending the hanging items swinging wildly.

I spin around, eyes wide, holding out both hands instinctively to stop the motion. Losing a second to ensure the carousel won’t topple over, I quickly move on without a backward glance.

My heart is pounding so loudly, blood rushes in my ears as my innate fight-or-flight response has well and truly kicked in.

Adrenaline is screaming at me to keep moving. The world around me blurs into peripheral shadows and shapes as I get tunnel vision.

A sudden, unexpected scent breaks through the haze and brings me to a screeching halt.

Instead of the clean, generic fragrance of fabric from the clothing stores, I’m hit with a heady floral aroma—something sweet yet spicy, layered with hints of leather and musk. Even the lighting changed, and the temperature ticked up a few degrees.

I blink and look around, a mixture of confusion and embarrassment washing over me. Somehow, I’ve wandered into a high-end lingerie boutique. I’ve been in stores that sell intimate apparel before, but this place is at a whole other level.

I’m left momentarily speechless. The racks hold delicate lace and satin lingerie in pale feminine hues—soft pinks and creamy ivory to metallic and gem studded. Sheer cotton I can see through, and racks of shockingly risqué pieces with hardly any substance to them.

My cheeks flush hot as my gaze moves to the far wall. It’s entirely devoted to vinyl and leather, studded or otherwise. I’m caught by a particularly daring leather bustier with gleaming metallic studs.

I’m struck by curiosity, wondering how I might look wrapped in something like that…and who I’d wear it for.

I’m so distracted by the opulent, sensual atmosphere of the place that at first, I don’t notice the slender saleswoman approaching me. It isn’t until she politely clears her throat that I turn to face the expectant blonde woman wearing a pleasant smile.

“Hi there,” she greets me in a warm, yet professional tone. “Welcome aboard. Can I help you find anything in particular today?”

I’m rendered speechless for a long moment, completely unsure how to respond. I’ve wandered far off track in my panicked attempt to escape Barron’s presence. Now I’m feeling thoroughly out of my depth.

“Um...no.” I shake my head awkwardly as I glance around again at the provocative lingerie. “I’m sorry, I-I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

I turn on my heel, ready to retrace my steps and exit the way I came. But after just two strides, I walk directly into a solid wallof muscle. Strong hands grip my upper arms, stopping me dead in my tracks.

Chapter Ten

Barron

“I-I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going,” she stammers.

Just what I thought.That’s right, little thief, I’m living rent free in that brain of yours.And I’ll never let her forget it.