BOUND BY OBSESSION

HERMIONE

The night air is crisp as I step out of the sleek black car, my heels clicking against the pavement. The glittering lights of the venue shine in the distance, and the hum of music and chatter spills from the open doors. The grand event for Dylan's inauguration as CEO is being held in one of the city's most exclusive venues—an elegant, modern space with towering windows that offer sweeping views of the skyline. It's the kind of place that exudes wealth and sophistication, every detail meticulously planned.

As I enter, I'm immediately enveloped in the atmosphere—luxury, exclusivity, and the sharp buzz of high society. The room is filled with well-dressed men and women, their conversations drifting over the sounds of clinking glasses and soft jazz playing in the background. Waitstaff glide through the crowd, offering champagne flutes and hors d'oeuvres to the guests.

I spot Dylan across the room, his dark presence impossible to miss. He stands near the center of the crowd, surrounded by influential people—board members, business partners, and high-profile figures from the city. He's wearing a black tuxedo, perfectly tailored to his frame, and his hair is styled meticulously. But it's not just his appearance that commands attention; it's the aura of authority around him, the way everyone gravitates toward him as if drawn by some magnetic force.

I take a steadying breath and make my way toward him, my steps purposeful but my heart racing. I feel his gaze before I even reach him, that familiar, intense pull that's impossible to ignore. As I approach, his eyes flick to me, and a slight smile tugs at his lips. It's a smile that holds both recognition and something more—a promise of what's to come.

"You made it," Dylan says, his voice smooth, as he extends a hand toward me.

I take it, my fingers brushing against his, a spark of electricity passing between us. "Wouldn't miss it," I reply, trying to keep my composure, though my pulse is erratic.

"Good," he says, his gaze lingering on mine for just a beat too long. There's a glint in his eyes, one that's almost predatory, making my breath catch. "I'm glad you're here. You look beautiful, Hermione."

The compliment, though sincere, feels like more than just a passing remark. It's laced with something deeper, something that sends a thrill down my spine. I force myself to look away, focusing on the event around us.

"Quite the party," I comment, gesturing to the room. "I didn't realize you were such a fan of grand gestures."

Dylan chuckles, his gaze never leaving me. "For the right occasion, I am." He leans in slightly, his voice lowering. "And this is just the beginning."

I try to ignore the shiver that runs down my spine at his words. The tension between us has been building ever since the takeover, and tonight, it feels like it's on the edge of exploding.

Before I can respond, a few of the other guests approach, eager to speak with Dylan. He's quickly swept into conversations with business partners, each of them eager to congratulate him and discuss future endeavors. I stand on the sidelines, feeling the distance between us grow as he becomes more consumed with his new role as CEO.

I glance around the room, my eyes landing on the bar in the corner. I could use a drink to calm my nerves. Without thinking too much about it, I make my way over and order a glass of champagne.

The drink feels cool in my hand as I take a sip, the bubbles tickling my tongue. The weight of the night settles on my shoulders, a reminder that this is just the beginning of my new life—working with Dylan, navigating the complexities of our professional and personal connection. I still don't know where I stand with him, but every time our eyes meet, I feel that pull between us, a force I can't escape.

I'm lost in my thoughts when I hear his voice again, close behind me.

"You look like you're trying to escape, Ms. Vale," Dylan's voice is low, teasing, as he steps up beside me.

I turn, surprised to find him so near, his presence overwhelming. "I'm just having a drink," I reply, doing my best to sound casual, though I can't hide the way my heart races at his proximity.

"Careful," he warns, his tone dropping to something darker, more intimate. "This party isn't the only thing that's under my control tonight."

I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. "What do you mean?"

Dylan leans in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear as he speaks. "I meant what I said, Hermione," he murmurs, his voice sending a shiver through me. "You can't hide from me. Not here. Not anywhere."

I pull back, my heart pounding in my chest. His gaze holds mine with an intensity that leaves me breathless. "Don't forget," he adds, his voice low and dangerous, "I'm the one in control now."

I nod, unsure of how to respond. The power in his words, in his presence, is suffocating, but it's also intoxicating. I don't know what this is between us—whether it's power, attraction, or something darker—but I do know one thing for sure: nothing will ever be the same after tonight.

The night feels surreal, like a dream I can't quite wake up from.

I still can't shake the lingering intensity from the takeover earlier today. Dylan is in control now, fully at the helm of Voss Enterprise. The transition was smooth, professional—but behind every handshake, every exchange of words, there was something else. A deeper layer of power and tension. The way Dylan held himself, the way he moved through the room—it was clear this was his moment. And yet, through it all, his eyes never strayed far from me.

Tonight's CEO party only amplified that tension. The grand ballroom glimmered with chandeliers casting a golden glow on the hundreds of guests. A-list actors, business tycoons, models—all gathered to celebrate the Voss legacy. But amidst the sea of smiling faces and flutes of champagne, I couldn't help but feel like I was walking through a maze.

The evening had begun with introductions—Dylan's mother, an elegant woman with poised grace, orchestrated everything from the guest list to the décor. Invitations had gone out to society's elite: powerful businesswomen, top models, the richest families, and, of course, his billionaire friends.

Dylan introduced me to everyone. The conversation was pleasant but distant, until a familiar face caught my eye.

Lia Devereux. My best friend. A-list actress. She was absolutely stunning tonight, dressed in a shimmering gold gown that clung to her body in all the right ways. She caught my eye across the room, flashing me a wide grin as she made her way toward me.

"Goddess, you look incredible," she said, wrapping her arms around me in a warm hug.

I chuckled, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. "I could say the same for you."

We caught up, talking about everything and nothing—Lia's latest projects, the chaos of her career, and of course, the event. She was quick to point out how obvious the chemistry was between me and Dylan.

"Stop trying to pretend like you're not interested," she teased, eyes twinkling. "He's definitely into you."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes, brushing it off. "We're just... business."

"Uh-huh, business," she said, raising an eyebrow skeptically. "You've got 'business' written all over you two."

I was about to respond when a voice interrupted.