HIS FRAGILE OBSESSION

Chapter 1

The heavy bass from The Velvet Lounge echoed through the dimly lit VIP section, but at Adrian Miller’s corner table, the mood was quiet and undisturbed.

Adrian swirled the ice in his tumbler, taking a slow sip of his whiskey. He was enjoying the brief moment of solitude after a long week of board meetings.

Tap.

A waiter quietly stepped up to his table, placed a small folded card next to Adrian's glass without uttering a word, and vanished back into the crowd.

Adrian frowned.

He picked up the card and unfolded it. Inside was a short, handwritten note in sharp calligraphy, alongside a table number:

Table 12.

Secluded Section.

Come join me for a drink, Adrian..

Adrian stared at the crisp white card for a few seconds. He feels that he had seen this handwriting earlier too.

He set his glass down, stood up, and buttoned his jacket as he walked toward the darker, quiet corner of the lounge.

Sitting in the shadow of Table 12, partially obscured by the plush velvet curtains, was a tall man in a dark tailored suit. He looked impeccably calm, casually swirling amber liquid in a crystal tumbler.

As Adrian approached, the man slowly looked up. Dark, calculating eyes met Adrian's.

"Adrian Miller..." Nicholas Vance asked smoothly, his voice low and faintly amused, though his eyes remained dead cold. "I was wondering if you'd accept my invitation."

Adrian stopped right at the edge of the table, his guard instantly going up. "I’m surprised you invited me here at all, Nicholas. You don't usually reach out unless you're planning to crush someone."

Nicholas offered a faint, polite smile, gesturing toward the empty leather seat across from him. "Sit down. Let's talk like gentlemen."

Adrian pulled out the chair and sat down, keeping his composure. "What do you want, Nicholas?"

Nicholas leaned back, taking a slow sip of his drink. His tone was surprisingly calm, almost casual, like he was giving a simple piece of advice.

"It's about Hazel," Nicholas said softly, looking straight into Adrian's eyes. "I know she’s staying at your place right now. Adrian, stay away from her. She is my wife, and she belongs with me."

Adrian stared at him for a second, then let out a sharp, breathless laugh.

"Your wife?" Adrian’s voice lost all its stiffness, softening with a deep, genuine care as he spoke her name. "Is that what you still call her? Nicholas, she isn't your possession. I've watched her suffer because of you. I saw the bruises on her wrists, the exhaustion in her eyes, and how she trembled every time your name came up. You trapped her, humiliated her whenever you felt like taking out your frustrations, and then threw her away when you were done."

Adrian leaned in, his eyes shining with pure sincerity and protection for Hazel. "She is finally safe with me, Nicholas. For the first time in months, I saw her smiling. I see her sleep peacefully without nightmares. She is genuinely happy now, and I care about her too much to ever let you break her again. Whatever we do—how we live, how close we get—it's none of your business anymore."

Nicholas’s fingers tightened slightly around his glass. The soft, genuine care in Adrian’s voice for Hazel was like acid poured directly onto Nicholas’s ego.

Without a word, Nicholas reached into his inner suit pocket, pulled out a thin black envelope, and slid it across the marble table.

Adrian frowned, looking down at the envelope. "What's this?"

"Open it," Nicholas whispered, his voice dangerously flat.

Adrian opened the flap and pulled out a stack of high-resolution surveillance photographs.

His breath hitched slightly.

The photos showed Adrian and Hazel. In one, they were walking together near their quiet apartment building late at night, Adrian’s jacket wrapped tenderly around Hazel’s shoulders. In another, standing near the hallway of their shared rented apartment, Hazel was resting her head against Adrian’s chest, looking vulnerable and soft while Adrian gently stroked her hair.

"My sources tell me she’s been living in your apartment..." Nicholas murmured, every word laced with poison. "They say she looks... very comfortable with you, that things got... intimate between you two. "

Adrian’s jaw tightened, but he didn't look down in shame. Instead, he looked straight into Nicholas’s eyes with unwavering firmness.

"She was hurting, Nicholas. She needed someone who actually gives a damn about her feelings instead of treating her like a toy."

CRASH!

The crystal glass in Nicholas’s hand shattered into a hundred glittering shards against the marble table. Amber liquor and blood from his palm spilled across the white surface.

The polite, smooth gentleman vanished. In his place stood a monster fueled by unhinged, possessive fury.

In a split second, Nicholas lunged across the table. His blood-stained hand shot out, grabbing Adrian by the collar of his shirt and yanking him forward until their faces were inches apart.

"You touched her..." Nicholas hissed, his dark eyes bloodshot and burning with pure rage, his chest heaving violently. "You dared to lay your hands on her!"

Adrian didn't flinch, glaring right back into Nicholas’s lethal gaze. "She chose to lean on me, Nicholas. Because she hates you."

"She is MINE!" Nicholas roared, pulling Adrian closer until the fabric of his shirt strained to its breaking point. "Every inch of her skin, every tear she ever shed, and every gasp she ever made belongs to me! She said she had found someone better just to drive me crazy, and you were foolish enough to touch what's mine!"

"She isn't yours anymore," Adrian spat back calmly, his voice filled with steady defiance. "She's moving on, and I will protect her from you."

"Protect her?" Nicholas sneered, a terrifying, dark expression washing over his face as he shoved Adrian back into his chair with brutal force.

Nicholas stood up tall, wiping the blood from his hand with a white linen napkin, his body trembling with suppressed rage. He looked down at Adrian like a predator staring at its prey.

"I came here to give you a chance, Adrian," Nicholas whispered, his voice dropping into a lethal, low growl that made the surrounding air freeze. "You crossed the line. You touched my wife. So hear me very carefully..."

Nicholas leaned down, his eyes dark with absolute promise of destruction.

"I will drag your name through the mud, bleed you dry with lawsuits, and wipe out every single penny you’ve ever saved. By the time I'm done with you, you won't even have a roof left over your head to shelter her under. Stay the hell away from my sweetie, or I will ruin your life so completely you'll wish you were dead."

Without waiting for a response, Nicholas turned on his heel and strode out of the VIP section, leaving behind a heavy, suffocating silence.

Five minutes later, Nicholas was sitting in the back of his dark Maybach. Rain poured relentlessly against the tinted glass, blurring the city lights.

He slammed his bleeding fist against the leather armrest, his breathing heavy as he stared at those photographs resting on the seat beside him.

Seeing Hazel resting her head against Adrian's chest—seeing her look so soft and safe in another man's arms—was driving him completely insane.

Her words echoed in his head like a cruel, endless torment: “I found someone better than you... I’m much happier now.”

He knew he had been a monster to her. He knew he had pushed her too far, dominated her , used her as an outlet for the dark trauma of his past, and then dumped her when his ego couldn't take it.

He thought he could just forget her. He thought she was replaceable.

He was wrong.

Knowing another man had held her, knowing she was seeking comfort in Adrian's arms while he burned in hell—it was tearing his soul apart.

Nicholas leaned his head back against the headrest, closing his eyes as a memory hit him like a physical blow.

[ FLASHBACK: 8 MONTHS EARLIER ]

Rain just like tonight. A naive, small-town girl standing frozen in his office lobby, holding a folder in her trembling hands...