OBSESSION

PROLOGUE

"Do it."

Salvatore stood by the window of his private study, a cup of black coffee in hand. His silhouette was etched against the floor to ceiling glass like a devil plotting a catastrophe. Outside, the city lights flickered in a chaotic, festive blur, thousand of lives moving beneath him, oblivious to his whims.

"Salvatore, this girl has been with the company for two years," the man on the other end protested. "We can't just fire her without a valid—"

"Wendell, i said fire her," Salvatore interrupted, his voice dropping to a stern, dangerous low as he gripped the phone. "It isn't your place to worry about a low-level employee. I'm in charge here, and you will do exactly as I say. Fire her."

"Fine, bro... but don't blame me if she ends up hating your guts," Wendell replied defeatedly. "You'd better pay me back with that premium Vin Santo. Send it to the usual address."

The line went dead. Almost instantly, another call arrived—this one from a casino manager. The news was exactly what Salvatore had been waiting for. The girl's father had returned to the tables. After losing a thousand dollars the previous week, he had spiraled, borrowing another four thousand only to lose it all.

"Let him," Salvatore commanded, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "I will cover the debt. Pressure him. Make him feel the weight of what he owes." The casino owner immediately agreed; a guaranteed payout was all the incentive he needed.

Finally, his lawyer, Marcus, entered the study with a stack of documents detailing the family's mounting liabilities. The lawyer looked pale, his expression a mix of guilt and professional duty.

"Sir, are you certain about this? You intent to pay every cent of their debt and medical bills? The eldest daughter just lost her job today," Marcus noted, his voice trembling slightly.

"I know," Salvatore retorted sharply. "That is the point, Marcus. I have to reduce her options. I want her to need me, and the only way to ensure that is to take everything else away from her."

"Has she.. has she done something to offend you, Mr. Salvatore?" Marcus asked, unable to hide his curiosity. "Forgive me , sir, but i don't understand why you're taking such extreme measure to make her suffer."

"It is none of your business," Salvatore snapped, dismissing him with a cold stare. "Just do as I've instructed."

Salvatore watched the lawyer leave with a stiff bow. Alone again, he adjusted his silver cufflinks, which glinted like surgical steel in the dim light. To the world, he was a perfect heir—a successful entrepreneur, a man of prestige and quiet power. To her, he intended to be a god.

He felt no guilt. Instead, a thrill surged through his veins, the same adrenaline he felt when betting on high-stakes race. To him, this wasn't cruelty; it was a renovation. He was burning down a crumbling shack to build a palace in its place. He simply needed her to stand in the smoke for a moment so he could begin his work.

He picked up his car keys and caught his reflection in the mirror. He looked like the perfect man—the kind of man a woman would want to spend her life with. He looked like the answer to a prayer she didn't know he had already answered.

The trap was set. Now, he just had to play the part of her knight in shining armor.