BOUND BY OBSESSION

Hermione

The next morning, I woke up with a strange feeling swirling in my stomach. The kiss from last night lingers, like a mark I can't wash off. I stare at my reflection in the mirror, barely recognizing the woman staring back at me. The strong, independent lawyer who walked into Voss Enterprise months ago feels like a distant memory. What happened to her?

I feel the tug of Dylan's presence like a shadow following me everywhere I go. It's suffocating, and I'm not sure how much more of it I can take.

Work that day is a blur, the hours slipping by in a haze of meetings, phone calls, and endless emails. But all I can think about is Dylan. His words from last night echo in my mind. You will be mine. The more I tell myself to resist him, the more I feel myself drawn to him.

I try to focus, but I can't shake the feeling that something is shifting between us—something dangerous. And yet, there's an undeniable pull that keeps me tethered to him, even as I try to break free.

By late afternoon, I can't concentrate any longer. I need to leave. I gather my things and make my way toward the elevator. But as the doors open, I stop short.

There he is. Dylan.

He's standing just outside the elevator, leaning against the wall with his usual confident stance. His eyes lock onto mine the moment I step out, and I feel the weight of his gaze on me, like he's already inside my head, watching my every move.

"You're leaving early today," he says, his voice smooth, but I hear the undercurrent of something more dangerous beneath the surface. He steps forward, closing the distance between us with that unsettling ease he has. "You've been distracted all day."

"I'm fine," I reply, even though I know it's a lie. I'm far from fine. The tension between us is growing, and I'm not sure how much longer I can keep pretending I'm unaffected.

"You're not fine," Dylan presses, his voice dropping an octave. "I can see it in your eyes. You're torn, Hermione. Torn between what you want and what you think you should want. But deep down, you know the truth. You want this. You want me."

His words cut through me, but I refuse to let him see how much they affect me. "I don't need this, Dylan. I don't need you."

He steps even closer, his body almost touching mine now. I can feel the heat radiating off him, and for a moment, I wonder if I'm losing my mind.

"You're lying," he says softly. "You're mine, Hermione. You always have been. You just don't want to admit it."

I can't stand it anymore. I pull away from him, shaking my head. "This isn't healthy. This obsession of yours... it's not right."

Dylan's expression hardens, but there's a glimmer of something in his eyes—a possessiveness that borders on madness. "Don't pretend you don't feel it too. You think you can walk away, but you're already too far gone."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. He's right. The pull between us is undeniable. And no matter how much I try to distance myself, I can't seem to escape it.

Before I can say anything else, Dylan's hand is on my wrist, pulling me back toward him. The force of it is enough to make me stumble, but his grip never falters.

"You belong to me," he says, his voice a low growl. "And I'll make sure you never forget it."

The rest of the evening is a blur. I don't remember how I made it home. All I can think about is Dylan—his words, his touch, the way he makes me feel both trapped and alive at the same time.

I sit on the edge of my bed, my hands trembling as I try to calm the storm raging inside me. I should be angry. I should be fighting this. But instead, I feel... helpless. Like I'm already lost in a game I can't win.

The next day, I return to the office with a heavy heart, knowing that everything is about to change. Dylan's presence is everywhere. The way he moves, the way he speaks—everything about him commands attention. It's like he's a force of nature, sweeping everything in his path.

As I walk to my desk, I see him standing by the elevator, waiting for me. He's alone today, but the intensity in his gaze is enough to make me freeze in my tracks. He doesn't speak immediately. Instead, he just watches me, his eyes dark and unreadable.

"You think you can get away from me, don't you?" he asks, his voice low and cutting. "But I won't let you. Not now. Not ever."

I stand there, staring at him, my heart pounding in my chest. I want to push him away, to tell him he's crossing a line, but instead, I find myself frozen, caught in the web he's spun around me.

"I'm not going anywhere, Hermione," he says, his voice quieter now, almost a whisper. "I'll do whatever it takes to make you mine."

The weight of his words hangs in the air like a threat. And deep down, I know that no matter how hard I try, I'm already his.