Page 52 of Obsessing Over His Favorite
His jaw clenched so hard it looked like it might shatter. Jacob wasn’t just a business rival—he was one of the men Lucas loathed most. The arrogant bastard had always lingered too close to Emily. Too friendly.
She had gone to see him before. More than once.
And every time, it tore Lucas apart with jealousy.
Jeremy and Jacob—just their names made his skin crawl. The way they hovered around Emily, the ease with which she trusted them. It drove him mad in ways he couldn’t put into words.
Rage surged through his veins, violent and blinding. His control snapped.
With a sudden surge of fury, Lucas grabbed a thick stack of files from his desk and slammed them against the wall.
Papers exploded everywhere, fluttering down like torn leaves as the folders ripped apart on impact.
The room fell into absolute silence.
The day passed in a blur after that.
The entire company was thrown into a storm of fear and tension. Employees tiptoed through the halls, avoiding the CEO’s office like it was cursed. No one dared breathe too loudly near him, afraid that even a glance could cost them their job.
By evening, Lucas returned to Cantrell Mansion, his steps heavy, his posture stiff with unspent anger.
The moment he stepped inside, his eyes swept the living room, searching—almost expecting—to find Emily curled up on the couch with that stubborn frown she always wore after a fight.
But there was nothing. No trace of her.
A sharp ache twisted deep in his chest.
His jaw tightened, fists curling at his sides.
Without pausing, he climbed the stairs and marched straight to the bedroom. “Emily?” he called out through gritted teeth. “You’re really going to go this far? Why didn’t you wait at the office? I told you—I don’t like it when you act like a spoiled child!”
He shoved the bedroom door open—only to be met with silence.
The bed was empty.
His rage surged like a storm inside his chest, twisting and coiling tighter with every passing second. His fists clenched so hard his knuckles turned white. Without a word, he stormed toward the washroom, yanking the door open with sharp force. Empty. Again.
A curse tore from his throat, low and furious. The door slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing like thunder in the quiet hallway. He turned sharply, pacing down the hallway to the guest room with heavy, furious steps. His jaw was clenched tight, his teeth grinding under the pressure.
“I told her not to use this room,” he muttered through gritted teeth, voice rough with frustration. “Told her to stay in our bedroom. She doesn’t listen to a damn word anymore!”
He yanked open the guest room door. His eyes searched frantically, heart pounding.
Empty again.
No sign of her. No trace.
A harsh growl escaped his lips as he slammed the door shut, fists hammering against the wood in silent fury.
He thundered back down the long stairs. Reaching the living room, his voice boomed, sharp and commanding, “Maria!”
The maid appeared almost instantly, hurrying toward him from the kitchen, her white uniform crisp and neat.
“Yes, Mr. Cantrell?” she asked, eyes wide as she took in his tense posture.
“Where is Emily?” he demanded, his gaze piercing, searching for answers in her hesitant eyes.
Maria blinked, confused and nervous under his intense stare. “Mr. Cantrell, didn’t she go to the office with you this morning? She was supposed to come back with you…”
