The Wrong Obsession

ELEANOR

The one thing I hate about birthdays?

That awkward moment when everyone is singing Happy Birthday and you're just standing there, smiling like you're in a toothpaste commercial, not knowing where to look. You can't stare at the cake-because then you look desperate-and you can't just stand there blank-faced. So you put on the "I'm happy to be here" smile and pray it ends soon.

That was me. Standing awkwardly in my living room, waiting for the singing to end.

It was a small birthday party-a "surprise" birthday party-planned by my best friend and family. They do this every year, and I act shocked every year, even though I always know. The "secret" meetings. The gc chime on my mother's phone two weeks before, conveniently titled Eleanor's Birthday. It was obvious, but... whatever makes them happy, right?

When the song finally died down, the gift-giving began. My colleagues from the hospital I work at-where I'm a licensed psychologist-brought little thoughtful things. My best friends, family, and other close friends followed suit. The usual crowd with the usual presents. You know, socks, candles, that one friend who always gives you that one weird "self-care" kit with a face mask that smells like pine needles.

Then Vivian handed me her present.

It was a picture frame filled with snapshots of us over the years-a sweet, sentimental gift. She'd already gotten me a matching forever bracelet earlier that week. But then she pulled out something else.

A book.

I blinked at it, then at her. "A... book?"

She nodded, practically bouncing. "Yes! You love books, right? I got you one! Did my research-i********:, BookTok-it's a popular one. I read it too!"

I glanced down at the title.

Bloods and Vows

A dark romance.

Not exactly my cup of tea. I was more of an elves-goblins-vampires kind of reader. The only vows I liked were the ones sworn in magical kingdoms-not in mafia boardrooms. But Vivian barely read anything, and she'd actually tried this one for me. So I smiled.

"Of course. I'll definitely read it. Then we can talk about it," I said, grinning like I meant it.

She talked a bit about the book. The male character Cassian being the handsome mafia boss with obsessive personality and the female character being the fragile, vulnerable girl with a huge amount of debt and searching for a job and works part time in a cafe, the guy being the saviour gives her a job as his secretary and obsess over her.... the typical cliche mafia story in w*****d. I wasn't really interested in hearing the story but she read it for me so i listened to her talking about it.

"Cassian kills her father for being so abusive.....but he buys her a house and designs it for her just like she always dreamt of with a garden in the backyard with her favourite flowers "

she said with dreamy eyes

"isn't he so great! I mean he's a mafia but he's soft only for her!"

I shook my head Laughing "ofc he is a bloody mafia as a pookie what a story!" I said mockingly receiving a glare in return.

The night went on-dinner, laughter, a little too much drinking. Within an hour, Viv was passed out drunk. I tucked her into my bed and, on my way to my side, spotted the book again. I slid it into my bookshelf, mentally filing it under

"TBR (probably never)."

I lay on the bed as I look at the bookshelf, the book in my small library.

I took my phone out searching about the book reading the plot

" Cassian vale the mafia boss of Italy, he the heir of the vale family. Laura Lopez, struggling with a huge debt of her father's and an abusive father's presence made her life miserable until Cassian. She was working at a cafe applied for the job as a receptionist in his company, where they meet and cassian instantly thinks he wants her by his side and falls for her. She was–" i scroll down to the reviews rolling my eyes at the typical cliche story.

"Full of s**t! Wasted my time" I read the review

Another review said "Cassian...I want him in real life. I love him!!!!!!"

Another one said "it was fine story.... If you like dark romance go for it. If you're not a fan then stay Away."

"Noted" i mutter to myself, putting the phone down pulling the covers over me and closing my eyes

When I woke the next morning, Viv was gone. Must've slipped out early.

One glance at the clock made me groan. Great. Late for my first session.

I rushed through my routine, threw on my work clothes, i wore a gray shirt tucking it in, pairing it with black trousers and ran out of my apartment. My heels clicked against the pavement as I made my way toward my usual coffee shop for my morning latte.

Except... my coffee shop wasn't there.

I looked around, I was not in the Wrong street but it felt different though

In its place stood a bookstore I'd never seen before.

I frowned, checking the street signs. This was definitely the right block. Maybe the alcohol was still in my system, making me see things.

I looked at my watch " oh s**t I'm late!" I walked faster hailing a cab and the cab driver drove to the destination.

I got out of the cab paying and turning around looking at the building in infront of me.

This is not the hospital I work in

My hospital was gone.

In its place rose a glass skyscraper, impossibly tall, a gleaming black "V" mounted on top.

"What the hell..." I muttered, glancing around. Same streets, same air, same city-only... not.

That's when a voice came from behind me.

" "Miss,"

I whirl around to find a man in a tailored black suit, standing beside a sleek black car. Sunglasses, earpiece, hands clasped behind his back - he's either a chauffeur or a hitman.

"The Boss has been waiting for you," he says.

I let out a confused laugh. "Uh... cool? I think you've got the wrong girl. I was headed to work at the hospital."

His face doesn't move. "Miss, it's not a request."

Before I can argue, the back door of the car swings open, and another man steps out. He's tall, broad-shouldered, and radiating that dangerous-but-rich energy. His suit is worth more than my entire year's rent. His eyes, an unnervingly deep shade of grey, lock onto mine like I'm a target.

"This is her?" he asks the driver.

"Yes, Boss."

Boss? Oh no.

The man studies me like I'm some rare artifact. "Get in."

I take a step back. "I have no idea who you are, and I'm definitely not getting into a stranger's car."

One raised eyebrow. "Cassian Vale," he says, like the name should mean something to me. It's familiar.

It does. Oh, it absolutely does.

Because last night, when I was shoving Blood & Vows onto my shelf, I glanced at the author's note: To Cassian Vale, my favorite antihero.

"Oh no," I muttered under my breath. "No, no, no, no..."

I let out a short, unhinged laugh. "No f*****g way."

Because there was absolutely no universe in which this man-this dangerously attractive mafia boss -was the Cassian from Blood and Vows.

Right?

...Right?!