An Illicit Obsession

our moth

you mean, I

me that I had to go on this so-called weekend trip they had planned with his frie

met him, only seen photos, but I know enough. And what I know is enough for me to decide that he is too dangerous and too close to my father for comfort. He kills people for a living, and I've decided I'd rather live my life without the

Fathe

efrained from

st to suppress it in front of my father. She wants this, she wants to secure her son's position as the nex

's face told me it wa

e mood to play Ha

not to roll my eyes or give a sigh.

s wife have so graciously chosen to host us. I don't want anyone backing out. We'll enjoy it

ing her hand over his in what seemed like a loving gesture.

use mysel

ng at me, and I slowly

ll, waiting with a smirk on his face. I was sure he was the

Knights in high regard, and Mr. Knight invit

assume I consider you

e that..." He put a hand to his chest in mock injury

be out o

come true any of these days considering my 21st birthday day is exactly one month a

house. My father, Tommen Anderson, is the third-generation Chairman of Anderson Group Of Companies, a multinational company worth over $3 trillion. As hi

irman's chair behind the large, old mahogany desk at Anderson Tech's headquarters. I was ten years old and had only recently learned that I was an Anderson. I still remember him kneeling in front

t became clear that I had just transferred from an iron cage - my orpha

later, he

ying the perfect mother, pretending to care. For five years, I've been careful with every move I make. All anyone knows about me is that I'm an introverted

as always played the part of a concerned mother. I have seen her actual colors. I will not be waiting for that

s, while I was stuck with my stepbrother, Ni

, as she insisted we call her-gushed. I like her, surprisingly. She's not annoyi

wearing. Her light green eyes, though, were like mine, like my father's, like my grandfather's

my earbuds, and watched

coming

te

h

*

, tinged with salt. A few hours later, we pulled into the Hamptons and parked in front of a grand beach house. The car came to a halt, and I pulled my Airpods out. As I step

autiful!" Fran

tall, arched windows reflected the fading sunlight. Sprawling gardens surrounded the house, with perfectly manicured lawns stretching toward

anctuary. Nicolai stepped out of the car, groa

rt on a beach trip-typical. I shook my head, slipping my phone and earbuds into my

ke to call a place

d onto the porch. She was lean, with an A-line figure and a height that gave her a

ng one of those air kisses high-class women exchange. K

n what I assumed was his version of a charming tone. "I'

As if on cue, our host

road shoulders and lean, muscular arms. He ran his hands thr

ed when his eye