𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧.

Closing In.

(Second Edit)

𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞

Five minutes after Victoria left, I got up and walked out of the cafè, feeling goosebumps rise on my exposed thighs due the chilly October breeze.

Pulling my jacket tighter around myself, I hurried across the parking lot. The moment I reached my car, I climbed inside and slammed the door shut behind me.

Turning on the heater, I rubbed my hands together and waited for the vents to begin blowing hot air before pulling out of the parking lot.

A quick glance at the dashboard clock told me it was now three forty-five.

Valentino was probably going mad in my absence.

The thought made me smile.

To some people, it probably seemed unhealthy - a husband constantly checking where his wife was.
Calling her, texting her, wanting to know when she'd be home.

Some women would find that suffocating, controlling, toxic.

But my marriage wasn't like that.

Valentino was possessive of me, yes. There was no denying that. But it wasn't something that made me feel trapped. If anything, it made me feel cherished, protected, wanted.

I was his wife, his partner. I belonged to him, every part of me was his.

And if I were being honest, I loved it when he was possessive.

Whenever we attended events together, Valentino always had to be touching me somehow.

A hand resting on my lower back, his arm draped around my waist, his fingers intertwined with mine beneath the table.

Small, simple gestures with each one carrying the same message: she's mine.

Strangely enough, I loved it.

I loved the reassuring weight of his hand on my waist whenever a stranger got too close. I loved the way he'd casually pull me against his side while speaking to someone. I loved the way his silver eyes narrowed whenever another man looked at me for a second too long.

Deep down, those little displays of affection made something warm unfurl inside my chest.

Not because he was claiming ownership of me, but because they reminded me that I mattered to him. That he wanted me near him. That after everything he'd seen and everything he'd done in his life, I was still the person he reached for first.

The person he came home to, the person he chose.

Every single day.

And if I were being completely honest, I was no better.

Perhaps that was why our marriage worked. Because my possessiveness matched his. To a tee.

I am his and he is mine. And believe you me, if any woman ever tries to take what was mine, I'll give her hell on earth. I'll let my monsters out to play and she'll be the first toy they go for.

Within fifteen minutes I arrived at the mansion and parked the car in front. Taking the bags out of the trunk, I went inside and saw Carol vacuuming the carpet in the living room.

"Hello Carol," I greeted with a smile.

"Good afternoon Mrs Guerrero, how was your day?" she asked in her usual friendly voice.

"It was nice. I went to the library to study. How was yours?"

"It was just fine, thank you."

"That's good. Anything interesting happen while I was gone?"