wounded Obsession

Chapter 1 – The Wedding Contract Alesia Quinn never believed in fairy tales. But she also never imagined her father would sell her off like cattle to the devil she thought she’d escaped. The ink had barely dried on the contract when the black car arrived. Two men in suits escorted her from the crumbling family house to a world of marble halls, gold trim, and cold silence. No one spoke. Not even her. What was there to say when your life had already been decided? At the Moretti estate, the doors opened like a beast unhinging its jaws. And there he was. Nico Moretti. Older. Taller. Colder. No boyish smirk—just a deadly calm that made her legs weaken. He stood at the top of the staircase like a king carved from shadow, dressed in a black suit that hugged a body built for violence. Alesia froze. Her stomach flipped violently, memories crashing into her like a storm. Lockers slammed. Her books tossed. Her name shouted like an insult. "Mouse," he used to call her. Weak. Quiet. Easy to break. His eyes dragged over her slowly, sinfully. He took in her trembling lips, the modest dress, the way she clutched her own arms like armor. Then he smiled. That cruel, knowing smile. “Well,” he drawled, stepping down toward her like a predator. “I always knew you’d end up mine.”