Bound By The Tyrant's Obsession

His Obsession

Annabelle's POV

“Your life belongs to me.”

The words echoed in the cavernous, luxurious bedroom, chilling me to the bone. I stared at Joel, my chest heaving trying to process the sheer madness of what he was saying.

“You're out of your mind,” I breathed, my voice shaking as I tried to pull my arm from his iron like grip. “Let go of me, Joel. I mean it. I am not some object you can just claim because your driver hit me on a deserted road!”

But he didn't budge. His fingers remained wrapped firmly around my skin. “You think this is about the accident, Annabelle?” he asked softly, a dark, dangerous glint in his gray eyes. “You think it’s a coincidence my car was on that specific highway tonight?”

A knot of dread tightened in my stomach. “What do you mean?”

Joel finally released my arm, only to cup my jaw with his large hand. His thumb brushed against my lower lip, his touch possessing a terrifying familiarity that made my skin tingle.

“I have been watching you for years,” he confessed, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly baritone that vibrated against my skin. “I watched you waste your youth, your smiles, and your tears on a pathetic boy who never deserved to breathe the same air as you. I watched Dylan neglect you, and I watched my wretched sister worm her way into your life. I was merely waiting for the day he would inevitably break you, so I could step in and pick up the pieces.”

My eyes widened in sheer horror. “You... you've been stalking me?”

“You can say that, but I call it keeping tabs on what is mine,” Joel corrected effortlessly, as if his words weren't completely psychotic. “And tonight, the universe handed you to me. I've already taken care of the details, Annabelle. The local police received a report of a tragic accident on the highway. A body was swept away by the flash floods. By tomorrow morning, Dylan, Clara, and the rest of high society will believe you are dead.”

“No...” A choked sob escaped my throat. I staggered backward, breaking his hold on my jaw. “No, you can't do that! You can't just erase me from existence!”

“I already have,” Joel said, adjusting the cuffs of his black suit jacket with chilling composure. “You are dead to the world, Annabelle. But you are alive in my house. You will stay here in this house with me. You will not leave these premises without my explicit permission, and you will never move an inch across this property without a guard behind you. You are safe here…With me.”

“I am not a prisoner!” I screamed.

The helpless, weeping girl who had groveled at Dylan's feet died on that asphalt. The realization that I was carrying a secret life inside me; a baby I had to protect at all costs, ignited a fierce, primal surge of adrenaline. I wasn't going to let another monster lock me in a cage.

With a cry of pure defiance, I lunged forward. I slammed my hands against Joel's broad chest, trying to shove him out of my way so I could sprint for doors. But honestly, hitting him felt like hitting a brick wall.

It actually hurt my fists. What the f**k was this man made of?!

Joel didn't even stumble. His expression darkened, his gray eyes flashing with a sudden, feral heat. Before I could even register my failure, his arms wrapped around my waist, lifting my feet completely off the floor.

“Let me go! Let me go, you psychopath!” I shrieked, thrashing violently in his hold. I kicked my legs, my bare feet striking his shins, and brought my hands up to scratch at his face, desperate to draw blood, desperate to break free. But all attempts proved futile because he was completely unfazed by it all.

“Annabelle, stop,” he growled, his voice a low warning.

“Never! Fight me, kill me, but I am leaving!” I twisted my body, driving my elbow back into his ribs.

A low grunt escaped him, and within a split second, the dynamic changed. Joel threw his weight forward, deliberately pinning my body back down onto the massive mattress. He came down over me, his heavy, muscular frame completely subduing my movements. He grabbed both of my wrists, pinning them securely above my head against the plush pillows.

I was completely trapped, panting for breath, staring up into the face of my captor. The physical proximity was overwhelming. The scent of his expensive cologne mixed with cedarwood and pure masculine authority filled my senses, driving me crazy with a strange, suffocating tension and dread.

“Are you done?” Joel murmured, his chest rising and falling heavily against mine. He wasn't breathing hard from exertion, but from an intense, dark excitement. His eyes scanned my flushed face, entirely unbothered by my assault.

“I hate you,” I hissed, tears of frustration finally leaking from the corners of my eyes. “I hate your sister, I hate Dylan, and I hate you.”

Joel stared at my tears for a long, agonizing moment. The terrifying, aggressive energy bleeding off him suddenly shifted, melting into an unnerving, intense gentleness that scared me far more than his anger.

Slowly, he released my wrists. I expected him to strike me, or to call a guard to bind me.

Instead, he reached over to the nightstand, where a small silver tray held a bowl of warm water, a clean cloth, and a jar of medical ointment.

“You're bleeding again,” he said softly, his voice incredibly tender.

He dipped the cloth into the warm water and wrung it out. Before I could pull away, his large hand gently cupped the back of my neck, anchoring me in place. He leaned over me, his face just inches from mine, and began to gently dab the wet cloth against the scraped skin on my temple that had been injured during the accident.

I winced, tensing up, but his touch was incredibly light, almost reverent.

“You fight fiercely for someone who was just begging a coward for scraps of affection,” Joel murmured, his eyes locked on the wound as he cleaned it. “I like it. I prefer you like this, Annabelle. When your sharp and angry. Its so f*****g sexy.”

“Why are you doing this?” I whispered, utterly confused, my heart racing for an entirely different reason now. The tension in the room was skyrocketing, thick and heavy, making it hard to swallow. One minute he was a tyrant keeping me captive, and the next, he was treating me like something fragile and precious.

Sans his rather dirty mouth.

“Because you've been handled carelessly by everyone your entire life,” Joel said, setting the cloth down. He opened the jar of ointment, scooping a small amount onto his fingertips. He gently applied it to the scratches on my bare shoulders, his touch sending a jolt of electric warmth straight down my spine. “But you belong to me now. And I take care of what is mine.” His gray eyes flicked down to my lips, a profound, agonizing yearning written across his sharp features.

Fuck. This man was telling the truth. He wanted me. He had wanted me for years, and now that he had me in his grasp, the restraint it was taking him not to consume me was visible in the tight clenching of his jaw.

I stared up at him, my mind screaming at me to fight, but my body was paralyzed by the sheer, hypnotic weight of his obsession. I was trapped in his golden prison, completely at his mercy, and for the first time, I realized just how dangerous this man was.