HIS FRAGILE OBSESSION

Chapter 9

The moment they stepped through the grand mahogany doors, the breathtaking beauty of the ballroom took Hazel’s breath away.

The grand hall was a spectacle of ultimate luxury—it was The Annual Global Philanthropy & Business Awards Night. Towering crystal chandeliers hung from high gold-leaf ceilings, casting a warm, romantic glow over the room. Cascades of white orchids and rare midnight-black roses spilled over polished marble pillars. Live violin music floated softly through the fragrant air, blending with the clinking of crystal champagne flutes and the rich laughter of high-society elites.

In the center of the hall, a grand golden stage stood under blinding spotlights, where the world's most powerful billionaires, tycoons, and diplomats gathered. Yet as Nicholas Vance stepped inside, the entire room's atmosphere shifted instantly.

Hushed conversations died down. Curious, admiring, and intimidated eyes turned toward them. Standing side by side in matching charcoal black, with Nicholas holding her close like a protective king, they looked mesmerizing.

"Mr. Nicholas Vance! My friend!" A deep, cheerful voice called out.

A tall, distinguished man in an elegant tuxedo stepped forward, holding a glass of wine. It was Julian Vanderbilt, a powerful European tycoon and one of Nicholas’s closest business partners from his global merger.

Julian’s sharp, friendly eyes immediately landed on Hazel, lighting up with genuine admiration.

"Mr. Julian Vanderbilt," Nicholas greeted, his usual cold demeanor softening just a fraction into a respectful nod.

"Look at you, stepping out in style," Julian chuckled, before turning his gaze entirely to Hazel. He took her hand politely, bowing slightly over her knuckles. "And who is this breathtaking lady gracing us tonight? I must say, Nicholas, your taste is flawless."

Hazel felt a sudden wave of heat rush to her cheeks, expecting Nicholas to introduce her as his secretary, as she was prepared for.

Instead, Nicholas’s broad hand rested gently over the small of her waist, pulling her a subtle inch closer.

"This is Hazel," Nicholas said, his deep baritone dropping into a low, smooth, heavy tone. "The only person who holds my time and attention."

Hazel’s breath hitched in her throat. Her heart slammed violently against her ribs, her eyes widening in pure shock as she looked up at Nicholas. The only person who holds his time and attention...? He didn't mention her job. He didn't call her a secretary. To anyone in this room, he had just introduced her as his woman.

Julian smiled knowingly, with a warm, charming glint in his eyes as he looked at Hazel’s flushed face. "Ah, I see. A rare treasure indeed. Take good care of him, my dear... I have never seen Nicholas looking at anyone the way he is looking at you tonight."

Hazel stood frozen, her heart racing so fast she felt dizzy. "I... thank you, sir," she stammered shyly.

Julian gave a friendly laugh, toasted his glass toward Nicholas, and stepped back into the crowd with a polite nod.

Hazel looked up at Nicholas, her cheeks turning pink. "Sir... why did you..."

"I spoke no lies, Ms. Sterling," Nicholas interrupted softly, his dark eyes locking onto her lips with a quiet, intoxicating intensity.

Before she could process the whirlwind of feelings inside her, a senior diplomat bowed politely near them. "Mr. Vance, sir? The foreign delegation has gathered in the private VIP lounge. They are requesting ten minutes for the merger preview."

Nicholas frowned slightly, his hand lingering on Hazel's waist. He was clearly reluctant to leave her side.

"Go ahead, sir," Hazel whispered softly, offering a gentle smile to reassure him." It's an important delegation. I'll stay right near the champagne bar."

Nicholas searched her eyes for a heavy beat before nodding slowly. "Ten minutes. Stay where it's safe, and do not leave this hall."

"I won't," she promised.

Nicholas gave a slow nod, his gaze lingering on her for a second longer before he turned and walked toward the elevated VIP lounge.

Left alone, Hazel took a quiet breath, stepping away from the main crowd toward the quiet marble pillar near the champagne station. She smoothed down her charcoal gown, her right hand instinctively touching the soft white silk wrapped around her bruised wrist.

"It's quite a heavy crown to wear, isn't it?"

A velvety voice spoke beside her.

Hazel turned around to see a strikingly beautiful woman standing near the marble pillar. She wore a deep wine-red gown, holding a champagne glass with effortless grace. Her eyes were sharp, mysterious, and calculating as she looked at Hazel.

Hazel blinked, taken aback. "I'm sorry?"

The woman took a quiet sip of her champagne, stepping an inch closer. "You're Nicholas Vance's personal secretary, aren't you?"

Hazel felt her posture stiffen slightly. "Yes... I am, but how come you know this?"

"I knew it," the woman murmured with a faint, unreadable smile. "Nicholas Vance never brings anyone to these events. Never. But if you'll take a word of advice from someone who knows how this world works... leave that post. Leave that job while you still can."

Hazel’s brows pulled together in confusion. "Excuse me? Why would I do that?"

The woman leaned down slightly, her voice dropping into a low, chilling whisper that gave Hazel goosebumps. "Because men like Nicholas Vance don't just hire people... they claim them. The closer you get to his shadow, the harder it will be to walk away. He wraps you in silk and luxury, but it’s a cage, sweet girl. Walk away before his dark obsession traps you completely."

Hazel listened, a strange shiver crawling down her spine. But as she thought of Nicholas, how he defended her against Vice President Harrison, how gently his broad fingers held her wrist, and how he made her feel entirely safe in a room full of dangerous strangers, a wave of fierce affection washed over her hesitation.

Hazel stood up straight, looking directly into the woman's eyes with calm, unwavering grace.

"Thank you for your concern," Hazel said softly, her voice steady and full of trust. "But Mr. Vance has been nothing but protective, kind, and respectful to me, and I won't judge him on the basis of his past if it had been like what you said, but for now whatever shadows or obsession you think he carries... he has only ever used his power to shield me."

The mysterious woman stared at Hazel for a long moment, visibly surprised by Hazel’s quiet strength and deep devotion to Nicholas.

A subtle, unreadable smile touched the woman's lips. "God bless you then, Hazel. You are far braver than you know. Take care of yourself... enjoy the evening."

Without another word, the woman turned gracefully and disappeared into the sea of masked guests.

Hazel let out a quiet breath, her heart beating fast yet firm in her belief in Nicholas.

"Hazel."

A familiar, deep baritone called her name from right behind her.

Hazel turned around instantly. Nicholas was standing right there, his tall frame blocking out the room's noise. His dark, impenetrable eyes searched her face with pure warmth.

Moving closer, Nicholas reached out, his broad, warm palm gently resting against the side of her cheek. His touch was so soft, so full of unspoken care, it made her breath catch in her throat.

"Is everything alright?" Nicholas asked softly, his deep voice dripping with pure care as his thumb gently stroked her cheekbone.

"Did someone bother you while I was gone?"

"N-No, sir," Hazel whispered, leaning into his touch instinctively. "Just a guest making polite conversation."

Nicholas’s gaze softened. Before she could step back, the music in the background transitioned into a deep, mesmerizing slow tune. Couples around the grand ballroom began stepping onto the polished marble dance floor under the warm glow of the chandeliers.

Nicholas looked down into her eyes, extending his broad, open hand to her.

"May I have this dance, Hazel?" Nicholas asked softly.

Hazel’s heart skipped a beat. "Sir... here? In front of everyone?"

"Only if you're looking at them," Nicholas murmured, taking her small hand into his warm grip. "Because I'm only looking at you."

He gently led her to the center of the dance floor. Placing his broad palm over the small of her waist, he drew her close—so close she could feel the steady, powerful rhythm of his heartbeat against her chest. Hazel rested her hand gently on his broad shoulder, her pulse hammering in her throat.

They moved together with effortless grace. The rest of the world seemed to fade into a blurred background as Nicholas guided her through the soft music, his dark, hypnotic gaze never leaving her face. Every brush of his fingers sent a wave of electric heat straight through her veins.

When the song ended, polite applause echoed through the hall as the host walked up to the main stage microphone.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the host announced, "Tonight we honor extraordinary global leadership, and this year's Global Business Leader is Mr. Nicholas Vance!"

Thunderous applause filled the hall. Nicholas gave Hazel’s hand a subtle, reassuring squeeze before stepping up to the stage. Standing under the bright spotlights in his sharp tuxedo, his towering presence commanded absolute authority.

While accepting the crystal award and speaking briefly into the microphone, Nicholas’s dark gaze bypassed the cameras and high-society crowd, locking directly onto Hazel standing near the orchids.

Hazel’s breath caught in her throat, her chest swelling with breathless pride and a sudden, intense heat.

After the ceremony ended, as guests began moving toward the formal dining lounges, a clumsy, intoxicated investor bumped hard into a passing server near them.

Clink!

A full glass of rich red wine tipped over, splashing heavily across Hazel’s shimmering charcoal gown!

Hazel gasped in shock, stepping back quickly, but a deep, dark wine stain ruined a massive portion of her dress.

"I'm so sorry, ma'am!" the server panicked, bowing repeatedly.

Before Hazel could even respond, Nicholas stepped down from the stage and stood right in front of her, his hand firmly holding her waist. "It's fine," Nicholas said coldly to the server, then looked down at Hazel. "Did it touch your skin?"

"N-No, sir... but the dress is completely ruined," Hazel whispered, flushing with embarrassment.

Nicholas’s head security officer quickly jogged up to them, speaking in a low, urgent tone. "Mr. Vance, sir... media reporters and paparazzi have gathered outside the main lobby gates. They saw you arrive with Ms. Sterling and are crowding the front entrance. Leaving through the front right now will be chaotic."

Nicholas frowned, his grip on Hazel's waist tightening protectively. He had no intention of exposing Hazel to invasive questions or letting her stand around in a stained gown for dinner.

"Call the front desk right now," Nicholas ordered sharply, his voice cold and decisive. "Book a private VIP penthouse suite on the top floor, under a discrete fake name. No one must know we are up there."

"Understood, sir," the guard bowed, moving fast.

Nicholas looked down at Hazel, his dark eyes steady and intense. "Come, Hazel. Let's get you away from these cameras."

Guiding her away from the crowded hall, Nicholas led her toward the hidden back elevators, leaving the chaotic noise of the gala behind...