OBSESSION

OBSESSION Chapter 2

Savior Complex

The weight of the penthouse felt like it was crushing me. "I'm leaving," i snapped, snatching my backpack."

"We had an agreement," Loui said, his fingers encircling my wrist. It wasn't a squeeze, but the strength behind his grip was unmistakable. "Dinner is already served."

I looked at him with distain, "You had an agreement. I'm going home." I tried to pull away, but he was a mountain. "I don't know what game you're playing, Loui, but I'm done."

"I'm not playing games, baby." His voice was a velvet caress, but his pupils were blown wide—a predator trying to play the part of a pet. He pulled me inward, my shoes gliding helplessly over the polished marble until I was pressed against his chest.

"I'm. Going. Home."

"Then I'm driving." It wasn't an offer; it was a command. He is mad. He looked at me with a gaze so possessive it made my skin prickle. I knew I should fight him, but the sheer gravity of his presence made it impossible to say no.

The ride down the elevator was a war of silence. When the door opened to the lobby and I tried to escape, he hauled me back with a propriety hand on my waist, slamming the 'Close' button before the world could see. He didn't even look at me; he just redirected us to the basement.

In the garage, the atmosphere was frigid. He caught his keys mid—air without breaking his stride. "Get in the car," he directed, his voice clipped. "Don't argue with me baby. Just get in."

The drive to my neighborhood was a blur of neon lights and unspoken tension. When he finally pulled up to my modest front yard, his luxury car looked like an alien craft in the dirt. My family was already pressed against the window, their shadows flickering behind the curtains.

I reached for the handle, but the child locks were on. He stepped out, circled the car, and opened my door like a victorian gentleman. He stood between me and my front door, his massive frame blocking out the world.

"Let me meet them," he murmured closely, his thumb tracing a slow, rhythmic circle on my elbow. The ice in his eyes had melted into something warm and terrifyingly genuine.

"You've made sure I don't have much of a choice, haven't you?" I jerked my chin toward the window.

A low, melodic chuckle vibrated in his chest. "Do you always do that?" He teased, a boyish smile breaking across his face as he mimicked my pout.

Despite the kidnapping, despite the forced ride, I felt my lips twitch. The suffocating pressure of the night lifted, replaced by a dangerous, dizzying charm. He pouted back, giggling softly, and for a moment, I almost forgot he was the man who had just stolen my life.

I didn't even get the chance to warn him. The front door flew open, and my mother stood there, her eyes widening at the sight of Loui. Before she even greeted him, she turned her sharp tongue on me.

"Mija! Is this how I raised you? To leave a guest standing on the porch like a stranger?" She clicked her tongue in disapproval, then turned back to Loui with radiant, almost desperate smile. "Where did you find such a handsome gentleman? Please, forgive the state of our home. I had a feeling tonight would be special, so I tidied up as best I could."

Behind her, my house had turned into a frantic hive of activity. My siblings were a blur of motion, rushing to find the "good" juice and the crystal pitcher we only used for holidays. It was a chaotic display of poverty trying to dress itself for wealth. My mother barked orders at us to straighten the cushions and clear the clutter, her voice a high-pitched melody of nervous hospitality.

My father stood in the corner, trying to maintain a stoic, manly pride, but even he looked intimidated by the sheer aura of money Loui brought into our cramped living room.

"The cookies! Someone get the cookies!" Mama called out, her excitement overflowing. She didn't just invite Loui in; she ushered him toward our best arm chair—the one with the least worn velvet—guiding him as if he were a king visiting a peasant's cottage.

"I spent months wondering where she inherited her beauty. Now that I've met you, Mrs. Trinidad, the mystery is solved." Loui's voice was smooth as silk, and the compliment hit its mark instantly. My mother turned a bright shade of pink, fluttering her hands in delight.

"Aish! This boy has such honest eyes!" She chirped, her hospitality going into overdrive as she pilled more cookies onto his plate.

Then came the question i dreaded. "Young people are so mysterious now. I had no idea my daughter was hiding a boyfriend. Tell me, what is your business? You look like a man of great importance in that Mercedes." Her words feel like a practiced poem with bluntness that made me want to sink into the floorboards.

"Ma, please!" I hissed.

"Hush, you!" She turned on me with a playful but sharp glare. "Go wash up while we get to know this gentleman. You smell like the deep fryer and floor wax. You're embarrassing us."