BOUND BY OBSESSION

Hermione

I shouldn't have kissed him back.

Every rational thought in my mind told me to push him away, to remind him that this was strictly a professional business arrangement. But the moment Dylan's lips met mine, reason shattered like fragile glass, and all that remained was heat, hunger, and the undeniable truth that I wanted him just as much as he wanted me.

Standing in my new office, my heart still pounding, I struggle to steady my breathing. Dylan steps back just enough to let me think, but his hands remain on my waist, his grip firm and possessive. His dark eyes burn into mine, waiting for me to say something, to react.

I force myself to find my voice. "That… that shouldn't have happened."

His lips curl into a slow, knowing smirk. "But it did."

I exhale sharply, stepping out of his hold. I turn away, placing a hand on my desk as if the solid wood will anchor me back to reality. "We work together now, Dylan. We can't do this."

He moves behind me, close enough that I feel the warmth of his body, but he doesn't touch me. His presence alone is enough to make my skin prickle with awareness. "That's the excuse you're going with?" His voice is low, smooth, taunting.

I spin around, glaring at him. "It's not an excuse. It's the truth."

He studies me for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he leans in slightly, just enough to make my breath hitch. "You think you can ignore this?" he murmurs. "Pretend it didn't happen?"

I lift my chin, trying to project a confidence I don't quite feel. "Yes."

A slow, dangerous smile spreads across his face. "Then I guess I'll just have to remind you."

I swallow hard, willing myself not to react, not to show him how easily he gets under my skin. I step around him, putting distance between us. "I have work to do," I say, my tone clipped.

He chuckles, shaking his head as if amused by my attempt to maintain control. "Of course, Ms. Vale." The way he says my name sends an unwanted shiver down my spine.

Before I can say anything else, there's a knock at the door. I take a steadying breath and call out, "Come in."

Adrian steps inside, his sharp gaze flicking between me and Dylan. He doesn't comment on the obvious tension in the air, but I see the knowing look in his eyes. "Mr. Voss, you have a meeting with the board in ten minutes."

Dylan nods but doesn't move immediately. Instead, he takes a step closer to me, his voice dropping low enough that only I can hear. "This isn't over, Hermione."

Then, just like that, he walks out, leaving me standing there, my pulse erratic, my mind a tangled mess.

And worst of all? I know he's right. This isn't over.

Not even close.

The Next Day

I stand in front of the mirror in my apartment, smoothing down my blouse. The events of last night, the heat of his kiss, still linger, but I push it all aside. Today's the day of the takeover. It's supposed to be business as usual, but with Dylan now fully in control, I know everything has changed.

I grab my purse and make my way out the door. As I walk to my car, the crisp morning air does little to calm the nervous energy coiling in my stomach.

When I reach the office, I find Dylan already there, his presence undeniable, even from the moment I step into the lobby. His dark blue eyes meet mine as soon as I enter the building, and I can feel the tension between us, a silent understanding that everything is about to shift.

Before I can make it to the elevators, he approaches, his gaze intense. 

"Good morning, Hermione."

"Morning," I reply, my voice steady despite the way my heart is racing.

He steps closer, his presence engulfing me in a way that makes it impossible to ignore him. "Be careful on your way up," he says, his voice low and uncharacteristically soft. "Things are different now. People will be watching."

I raise an eyebrow at him, wondering if this is a warning or a reassurance. "I'll be fine."

Dylan gives me a knowing look, his lips curving into a smirk. "I'm sure you will be. But just remember—no one in this building has your back the way I do."

I nod, fighting the urge to react to the way his words settle in my chest. I'm not sure if it's possessiveness or something deeper that lingers in his tone.

"I'll be up in a few," he continues, his voice steady again, all business. "But I need you here early tomorrow. We'll need to talk about strategy, and I have some decisions to make and be at the meeting early."

I nod again, though a part of me wants to ask what decisions. Instead, I simply say, "Understood."

He watches me for a beat longer before turning away, his shoulders straight, his posture commanding. And as I head toward the elevator, I know this is just the beginning of a very different kind of partnership.