From Savior to Obsessed Stalker
hought was the most romantic in the world. Now, it felt like a key to a gilded cage
vealing Conrad on his knees, clutching a lavender silk scarf. He w
was Kassidy. "Conrad? You sound... out of breath." He snapped, "What do you want?" She asked if the rumors of our marriage w
felt like a giant, humiliating joke. I remembered how my father brought Kassidy and her mother home after my mother'
lieving I was special to him. He wasn't a sai
of my heart. I called Helene, my voice torn with sobs. "I'm done. I don't want him anymore." I w
pte
d Ellison's private v
ntic gesture in the world. Now, it j
floors chilling me through my thin shoes. I wasn't supposed to be here. C
eeks. It was a feeling I couldn't shake, a suspicion whispered by the c
to know t
y ribs. I was aiming for his home office, the one place he kept
ow
doors leading to the balcony. I froze, my hand flying to my mouth. Anoth
I knew. Clothes were strewn on the floor, and the air was thick with
re was
is tailored shirt was unbuttoned, his usually per
soft lavender one I'd never seen before.
ouching
lips. It was a sound of pure de
his voice rough with a l
od ran
. My st
alling h
t scarf. Kassidy had worn it to a charity event last w
read through my chest, freezing my heart,
ght was a saint, pure and untou
didn't d
rom collapsing. I needed to get out, to flee before h
k away, one sile
ing on the nightst
ements jerky. He answer
of breath." It was Kassidy
sharp, cold, completely different from the des
ear the fake concern in her tone. "They're saying our dear Abby
nd of disgust came
ev
me like a p
word a dagger. "I'm sick of her pathetic attempts
ly tolerate her to get closer to me. And to get my father's full
s voice flat. "I can'
urred. "You'll get what
all e
om, broken only by my
e. My father. My stepsister. The man I loved. T
sses that I had clung to like a lifeline-
of foolish, desperate love, fel
uneral. My mother had died from a sudden heart attack, the shock of seeing her husband publicly parading
A nuisance. My stepmother, a master manipulator, spread rumors about me being wild and prom
ignored at home. My life
ad Ellison
ing wine on my dress and mocking me. Conrad had stepped in. He didn't say much,
of light cutting
spent his early twenties in a monastery, a devout Buddhist who had only returned to secular life to take over his
so thick I w
my lips, sounding alien and
was just a man obsesse
y conferences, even trying to dress in a way I thought he'd like. I once wore a revealing dress to a party, hoping
I thought he was abov
just wasn't
rned and ran. I didn't know where I was going, ju
apsing in a heap on the manicured lawn outside. The pe
g for air, the worl
and sharp, formed in t
my fingers shaking. I
t ring. "Abby? What's wr
torn from my throat. "I'm do
rce and protective. "Good. He never deserve
the back of my hand. "Book me a f
mi?
. "I'm not just leaving him. I'm leaving this whole d
are you
lm settling over me. "I'm starti
a joke. I was don