The Billionaire’s Obsession

CHAPTER 2 — SLIPPING INTO HIS WORLD

Ava spent the rest of the evening avoiding Liam the way a deer avoids a wolf—carefully, constantly, praying the wolf wasn’t hungry.

Unfortunately, this wolf was.

Every time she looked up, she found him again—leaning against a marble railing, whispering to a politician, drinking water like it was whiskey. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes…

His eyes tracked her.

As if she were the only thing worth watching.

By the time she stepped out of the hotel and into the rain-damp air, relief hit her like oxygen. She hugged her camera bag and hurried down the sidewalk.

“Going somewhere, Ms. Ramirez?”

She froze.

Liam stood beside a black car, rain misting over his shoulders. Too still. Too calm. Too dangerous.

“I—I’m going home.”

“At this hour?” he asked. “Alone?”

“Yes.”

He stepped forward, opening his car door. “Get in. I’ll take you.”

“No,” she said quickly. “I don’t get into cars with strangers.”

“I’m hardly a stranger,” he replied. “I know your name. You know mine.”

“That makes it worse.”

A slow smile touched his lips. “Fair enough.”

He closed the door but didn’t move away.

“Then allow me to walk you.”

“What? No. That’s not necessary—”

“It wasn’t a question.”

He didn’t touch her. He didn’t raise his voice. But something in the way he spoke made refusal impossible.

They walked side by side beneath the dark sky.

Ava tried to keep distance. He shortened it without trying.

“You fear me,” he said quietly.

She looked away. “I don’t know you.”

“And yet you fear me,” he repeated. “Interesting.”

“You’re intense,” she whispered.

“You’ve no idea.”

They reached her street—a humble, cracked sidewalk that looked nothing like the marble world he came from.

Liam glanced at it, then at her.

“You live here?”

“Yes.”

He nodded slowly. “I’ll remember that.”

“Please don’t.”

He stepped closer.

“Ava,” he murmured. “I don’t pursue people. But you… you walked into my path. Now I’m curious.”

“I don’t want to be part of your world.”

“You already are.”

Before she could argue, he brushed a strand of wet curl from her face—gentle, almost tender.

“Goodnight,” he said.

Then he walked away.

And Ava knew, with a sinking breath, that this was not the end.

It was the beginning.