Chapter 7 - Chapter Seven: When Obsession Starts to Hurt

I wasn't supposed to fall for him.And yet here I was half-naked in a hotel suite in Milan, watching Damian Cain sleep like I hadn't just bled out every piece of dignity I had the night before.He made it too easy.To surrender. To ache. To forget every rule I wrote for myself before he kissed me that first time.And now… I couldn't stop.Even when I wanted to.Especially when I wanted to. "I want you in New York next week," he said over breakfast."Why?""Because I don't like being away from you."My heart thudded. "That's not professional."He didn't blink. "Neither are your moans."I choked on my coffee. He smirked.And just like that, I forgot how to argue. The trip to New York was different.He introduced me to his mother.Not on purpose.We ran into her at the Plaza.Tall. Elegant. Terrifying.Her eyes flicked over me like a scan.And then she said, "She's not your type."I felt like I'd been slapped.Damian didn't flinch."She's the only one who ever said no to me."His mother raised an eyebrow."And that impressed you?""No. That made me obsessed."I didn't know whether to kiss him or run. That night, I asked him why he never dated seriously.He was shirtless. Lying beside me. Tracing circles on my spine."I don't like losing control," he said."Then why me?"He paused."Because you already have it."My chest ached."Don't say that unless you mean it."He kissed me, slow. "I've never meant anything more."And God help me… I believed him.Even if it hurt.Especially because it hurt. Things shifted in New York.He made space in his penthouse closet.Bought a spare toothbrush.Started referring to my things as "ours."It was sweet. It was domestic. It was terrifying.Because it felt real.Too real.And when something feels real, it means it can be lost. The first crack came on a Thursday.I stayed late at work.Damian showed up unannounced.I was in a conference room with two senior execs. One of them Peter was laughing at something I said.He touched my arm.It meant nothing.But when Damian saw it…His jaw clenched.His voice went flat. "Meeting over."Peter chuckled. "We were just wrapping up.""I said. Meeting. Over."I followed him out, heart pounding."You're jealous," I said.He didn't answer.Instead, he kissed me in the elevator rough, possessive, angry.And then he said the words that split me open."I don't share." We fought that night.Yelled. Cried. Fucked.I told him he couldn't control me.He told me he wasn't going to lose me.We ended up on the floor of his penthouse, tangled in each other, breathless and broken.And when I woke up the next morning, he was watching me."I don't know how to love gently," he whispered."I don't need gentle," I said.But even as I said it… I wasn't sure it was true. A week later, he took me to the Hamptons.Private estate. Ocean view. A house big enough to get lost in.And for the first time in weeks we breathed.He cooked.I laughed.We slow danced barefoot on the balcony.It was perfect.Until it wasn't.Until a call came in from a woman named Miranda.I recognized the name.The woman he used to sleep with.The one he never talked about."She's nothing," he said."She used to be something.""Not like you."But I'd already seen the way his hand tightened around his phone.The way his voice dropped when he told her he couldn't see her anymore.And I knew he wasn't done with his past.And I was starting to become too entangled in his future. That night, I didn't let him touch me.I slept in the guest room.He didn't force it.But he sat outside the door.All night.When I opened it the next morning, he looked up, eyes bloodshot."I thought you left," he said."I should have.""But you didn't.""No."He stood. "Why?"I stared at him.Because I'm addicted.Because I want to believe you'll choose me.Because leaving hurts more than staying."Because I'm not ready to stop fighting yet."He stepped forward.And for once, his kiss wasn't fire.It was a plea.A promise.And I knew, then, that this thing between us wasn't just obsession.It was survival.