Page 126 of Possessive Billionaire's Twisted Hunt

Christian froze. Even through his haze of exhaustion, grief, and self-loathing, he noticed the effect she had on him. Something shifted inside him, something small but undeniable.

She hesitated for only a moment before disappearing back into the café. He blinked, startled, his body tensing as he prepared himself to be alone again. But then—

She returned.

In her hands, she carried a steaming cup of coffee and a small cake. She walked toward him, hesitantly but determined, and held them out.

“I thought you might need this,” she said softly, offering a small, uncertain smile.

Christian stared at her. He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. He simply watched her, his head slightly tilted, as if trying to decide whether she was real or a hallucination brought on by the cold and his sleepless night.

The scent of the coffee cut through his fog—the rich, bitter aroma mixed with the subtle sweetness of vanilla. And then, her scent. Something delicate, warm. Something that seeped into his bones, melting the ice he had carefully built around himself.

His fingers twitched. Slowly, he reached out. Their hands brushed as he took the cup from her. A small, fleeting touch.

Relief.

That was the only way to describe what he felt in that moment. A deep, unexplainable relief that settled in his chest, easing the unbearable ache he had carried all night.

But before he could say a word, before he could even think of what to do next, she stepped away. And walked away.

Christian’s eyes stayed glued to her figure, following every graceful movement as she crossed the street. His body was still frozen, unable to react, until he saw her climbing onto a bus.

Then, something inside him snapped.

He lurched forward, nearly spilling his coffee. His pulse roared in his ears as he ran toward the bus, his boots crunching against the fresh snow. His muscles burned from the sudden movement, but he didn’t care. He needed to be close to her. He needed more of whatever strange, unexpected comfort she had just given him.

But he was too late.

The doors closed. The bus pulled away, taking her with it.

Christian stood there, panting, his breath coming in sharp bursts. His hands clenched around the coffee cup, his knuckles white.

He had never wanted anything more in his life.

***

The office was suffocating that day. The usual chatter of employees, the clacking of keyboards, and the constant hum of ringing phones all blurred into a monotonous, mind-numbing buzz. Christian sat at his desk, his fingers curled into a tight fist against the mahogany surface, his mind far from the numbers flashing on his computer screen.

His jaw was locked, his thoughts tangled in a loop of frustration and longing. No matter how much he tried to shake it off, she remained imprinted in his memory—the girl with the kind eyes, the delicate hands that had brushed against his when she handed him that steaming cup of coffee. A simple moment, yet it had left a mark deep in his soul, an imprint he couldn’t erase no matter how much he willed himself to move on.

Across the desk, Sawyer leaned back in his chair, his sharp gaze never missing a thing. His closest friend, his best friend, and perhaps the only person in this entire world who could speak to him without fear of repercussions. Sawyer had spent enough time around Christian to notice when something was off. And today, something was definitely off.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Sawyer commented, arching a brow as he took a sip of his coffee. His voice was light, teasing, but his eyes held curiosity.

Christian exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples as if he could force the ache from his head. “I need to find out who she is.”

Sawyer blinked, setting his coffee down. “Who?”

Christian’s jaw ticked. His throat felt tight, as if saying the words would somehow make his obsession more real. But there was no avoiding it. He had already surrendered to this need.

“The girl.”

Sawyer’s brows furrowed. “You’re gonna have to be more specific, man. You meet a lot of girls.”

Christian shot him a glare, sharp and unamused. “The one from the cafe. The one who gave me coffee.”

There was a pause. Then, Sawyer let out a low chuckle, his lips curving into a smirk. “Oh, you’re serious.”

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