Christopher's Playhouse

Chapter 5: Whatever you want

Los Angeles, California:

Christopher sat in his office, the large windows behind him framing the skyline of downtown LA. The view usually gave him a sense of satisfaction, a reminder of his dominance over the city below. But today, it felt distant, as though the world outside was moving while he remained stuck. His gaze flicked to his phone on the desk, the screen dark and silent, just like it had been all week.

He had been texting Sloane for days. Every message, every carefully crafted line designed to get a reaction, had gone unanswered. She'd read them, of course. The little "read" receipts taunted him like a slow burn, as if she were deliberately feeding his frustration. He clenched his jaw and flipped through the file he had on her once again. No one had ever ignored him like this before, and the longer it went on, the more it twisted something inside him.

Another hour passed, and he couldn't take it anymore. This was not how he operated. He wasn't someone who waited around, especially not for a woman who was playing games. Christopher grabbed his phone, typed out another message, and paused before sending it. The image of Sloane's cool, composed expression when he had last seen her flashed in his mind. She thought she could keep him at arm's length, but she didn't know how relentless he could be.

You've had your fun. I'm coming by. (6:47 PM)

He pressed send, not expecting a response, but that didn't matter anymore. He was done waiting. The thought of seeing her, confronting her, twisted something hot and sharp in his chest. She had provoked this, awakened something he couldn't smother. His fingers tightened around the phone as he stood, grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair, the soft wool brushing against his fingers as he shrugged it on.

He moved with purpose, his footsteps echoing through the otherwise quiet office. The tension in his body sharpened as he walked, each step bringing him closer to her. He wasn't sure what he'd say when he saw her, but it didn't matter. He just needed her in front of him, needed her to stop hiding behind the distance she created.

The elevator ride down felt endless, the hum of the city becoming louder as the doors slid open and he stepped into the cool night air. The usual bustle of LA barely registered as he made his way to his car, the low purr of the engine filling the space where silence had once dominated. His mind raced, replaying their last encounter, every second of her dismissal now sharpened by the edge of his obsession.

This time would be different. She would see how relentless he could be.

By the time Christopher arrived at Sloane's little beach house, the sun was dipping low in the sky, casting a warm, golden hue over the city. His black SUV rolled to a stop in front of her building, and he stepped out, his gaze scanning the modest exterior. It wasn't the kind of place he'd usually be caught dead in, but for this, he was willing to make an exception.

His hand hovered over the doorbell, his pulse racing in a way he hadn't felt in years. When there was no immediate answer, he rang again, leaning closer to the door as though willing it to open. Minutes stretched on, and still nothing.