"You really thought I'd stay away?" Bianca says, returning to a world that kept moving without her. In this thrilling sequel to Obsessed. Bianca's back is she the same? What happened while she was away? With her return, old wounds are reopened, forc...
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There are two types of beautiful houses: the ones designed to be admired and the ones designed to keep people out.
Dominik's was the second.
From the outside, it looked like something that belonged on the cover of a luxury magazine. Pale stone walls climbed around enormous windows, dark shutters framed the upper floors, and the gardens stretched farther than I could see from the bedroom balcony. Beyond the perfectly trimmed hedges was nothing but countryside, rolling green fields, clusters of trees and a narrow road that disappeared into the distance.
It was beautiful, peaceful even.
But peace can be deceptive.
A place can look like paradise and still function like a fortress.
I had learned the property quickly. The first one was nice but moving here felt different because it was. There was one main entrance, one smaller service road, cameras covering most of the exterior and enough land surrounding the house that anyone approaching would be noticed long before they reached the front door. The nearest town wasn't close enough to simply wander into, and there was very little reason for anyone to come out here unless they had been invited.
For someone trying to disappear, it was perfect. For someone trying to find me, it was a nightmare.
I stood by the window with my arms folded, watching the morning mist slowly lift from the fields. Dominik had already left. He'd said he had a few things to take care of and would be back later, and I hadn't questioned him.
I usually didn't because I trusted him.
Though, there was something strange about being here. I had spent so much of my life wanting freedom that I should have hated the idea of being tucked away in the countryside, but I didn't. There was something comforting about knowing that, for once, nobody could simply show up at my door.
No journalists.
No Richard.
No curious strangers.
No one from my old life.
And yet, somehow, the person I had spent months convincing myself I could live without had found his way back into my life through a single Instagram post.
Jude.
I sat down on the edge of the bed and picked up my phone. We had been texting back and forth since the video call. His last message was still there.
