obsessively mine

CH#23 HIM

 I frowned slightly as I watched her slip away into the crowd, blending effortlessly with the sea of people. It wasn't just the sight of her that made me pause—it was the way she got under my skin. I could feel her pressing against the walls I'd built around myself, inching closer to places I wasn't ready to admit even existed. She was persistent, relentless in her quiet way, and maybe—just maybe—she was winning this game.

I shook my head, a half-smile tugging at the corner of my lips, the kind that comes when a predator spots his prey. She had no idea how much she was affecting me, and the thought amused me. But then again, maybe she did know. Maybe that's exactly what she wanted.

My gaze tracked her as she glided through the room, the perfect hostess. The way she smiled, shaking hands and exchanging words with the guests, it was all so rehearsed. It was like she had practiced every movement, every expression, long before tonight. Everything about her was calculated—right down to the way she had designed the space around her.

I glanced around, taking in the sleek, expensive decor. It was modern but elegant, the kind of style that demanded attention without shouting for it. Just like her. It was her vision come to life—polished, sharp, and untouchable.

I moved through the crowd, making my way to the bar. The bartender noticed me immediately and nodded as I gave my order. "Whiskey, neat."

As I waited, a loud round of applause echoed through the room, drawing my attention to the stage. There she was, standing tall and confident in the spotlight, her smile a weapon in itself. She had the entire room in the palm of her hand.

"Thank you, everyone, for joining me tonight," she began, her voice smooth and commanding. "This night means more to me than I can express. Your support has made all of this possible, and without it, Velvet Vogue would just be a dream."

There was a pause as the crowd took in her words, and I watched her closely, admiring the way she controlled the room with ease. She was speaking to them, but I couldn't shake the feeling that some of it was meant for me.

Someone from the audience shouted, "YOU'RE LOOKING GORGEOUS!"

I saw her laugh lightly, that same intoxicating chuckle that always managed to break through my armor. It made me smile too, despite myself, as I took the first sip of my whiskey.

"Thank you," she replied, her voice warm and full of charm. "Your admiration means the world to me. But tonight isn't just about appearances. It's about what Velvet Vogue represents—strength, elegance, and ambition. We're here to celebrate not just a brand, but the bold spirit behind it. I wanted to create something that empowers, that allows each of you to feel confident like you can take on the world." Her eyes scanned the room, the connection with her audience palpable.

"And that's what Velvet Vogue is," she continued. "A statement. A way to say 'I am here, and I will be seen.' It's not just about fashion; it's about owning who you are and showing it proudly. So tonight, I hope you all enjoy yourselves. Celebrate with me. Celebrate you."

The crowd erupted into applause, louder this time, and I watched as she soaked it all in, still standing in that spotlight, completely in her element. She descended the stage with grace, immediately surrounded by a group of women eager to talk to her, to touch a piece of that magic she exuded.

But even as she smiled and chatted with them, I knew her eyes would eventually drift back to me. Because no matter how much she dazzled the crowd, the tension between us lingered—unspoken, but undeniable.

I turned back to my drink, savoring the burn of the whiskey as it slid down my throat. She may have won over the room tonight, but she wasn't finished. Not with me.

And I wasn't finished with her either.