Page 20 of His Obsession

“She was supposed to be here,” one man muttered, his tone laced with frustration. “I saw her go in the alley.”

“Then where the hell is she?” another snapped. “The boss isn’t going to like this.”

“Yeah? Well, maybe you want to tell him we lost her,” a third voice shot back, dripping with sarcasm. “Be my guest.”

The first man grumbled something unintelligible before another voice chimed in, quieter but sharper. “What does he even want with her? She doesn’t seem like the usual?—”

A dull thud interrupted the question, followed by a pained grunt. “It’s not our job to ask questions,” the third man snarled. “We follow orders. Got it?”

Isolde’s breath hitched as the full impact of their words sank in.The boss.Whoever they worked for, it wasn’t Callum. This was someone else—someone who had sent these men after her with a purpose she didn’t want to understand.

Callum’s hand pressed more firmly against her mouth, his body a solid wall of protection against hers as he listened intently. She could feel the antagonism coiled in him, the predator lurking just beneath the surface, ready to strike if the situation called for it.

The men’s voices began to fade as they moved farther down the alley, their heavy footsteps echoing in the still night. Isolde’s body trembled, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she struggled to catch her breath. Only when the silence stretched long and unbroken did Callum finally release her.

“What the hell—” she began, her voice a whisper, but he silenced her with a sharp look, his finger pressed against her lips.

His eyes burned into hers, dark and intense, and in that fleeting moment, the danger of the alley was eclipsed by the danger of him. The heat between them was intense, a volatile mix of fear, anger, and something far more primal.

“Not here,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding. “Not yet.”

He stepped back just enough to let her move, his hand wrapping firmly around her wrist as he guided her out of thealcove and down a side street. The grip wasn’t painful, but it left no room for argument. Isolde knew better than to protest. She followed, her heart still racing, her mind a whirlwind of questions and emotions she couldn’t begin to untangle.

When they finally emerged into the faint glow of a busier street, Callum stopped abruptly, turning to face her. His hands came up to cup her face, his touch startlingly gentle as he tilted her chin upward, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“You can’t keep doing this,” he said, his tone a mix of anger and concern. “Running off, ignoring the warnings. You don’t understand the game you’re in, Isolde, and it’s going to get you killed.”

Her eyes burned with defiance, though her voice trembled when she spoke. “I didn’t ask to be in this game, Callum. I don’t even know what this is.”

“This,” he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, “is survival. And you’re not going to make it if you don’t start listening to me.”

She pulled back from his touch, her pulse quickening for reasons that had nothing to do with fear. “You don’t get to dictate my life. You don’t own me.”

His dark chuckle sent a shiver down her spine, his gaze locking onto hers with unrelenting intensity. “Not yet,” he said, the words both a promise and a warning. “But you’re mine to protect, whether you like it or not.”

Her breath hitched, the strength of his claim awakening something deep and dark inside her. She wanted to argue, to tell him he had no right, but the words wouldn’t come. Because deep down, some part of her knew he wasn’t entirely wrong.

Before she could respond, his phone buzzed, the sound breaking the tension like a blade slicing through taut fabric. He glanced at the screen, his expression darkening as he read the message.

“We need to move,” he said, his voice all business now. “It’s not safe here.”

His words sent a shiver through her, but it wasn’t just fear. It was the way he said it, like a vow carved in stone, unyielding and absolute. The world she thought she knew had shifted irrevocably, and she wasn’t sure if she was terrified or relieved.

“Callum—” she began, but he cut her off with a low growl that sent heat pooling in her belly.

“You don’t get to argue with me about this, Isolde,” he said, his voice a razor’s edge. “Someone tried to hurt you tonight. They’ll try again. Until we get them shut down, you don’t take a step without me.”

She wanted to fight him, to push him away and reclaim the autonomy she felt slipping through her fingers. But the intensity in his voice and eyes—were a lifeline she hadn’t known she needed. And God help her, she felt safer here, pressed against this wall with Callum shielding her, than she had in weeks.

As they disappeared into the shadows once more, Isolde felt as if her life was no longer her own. Callum had dragged her into his world—a world of danger and intrigue where nothing was as it seemed. And as much as she hated to admit it, part of her didn’t want to leave.

“This is insane,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“This is survival,” he countered, his hand coming up to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. The gentleness of the gesture was at odds with the lethal power she could feel radiating off him. “And you’re lucky I found you before they did.”

Her heart raced, a wild drumbeat that echoed in the hollow space between them. “You can’t just… take over my life,” she said, though the protest sounded weak even to her own ears.

His lips curved into a dangerous smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “I can. And I will.”

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