OBSESSION

TWENTY

Bethany stood outside Logan's penthouse, her hands trembling as she raised them to knock. Anxiety twisted her stomach, threatening to pull her under as she tried to steady her breathing. The city lights glimmered behind her, but they felt distant, like a world she no longer belonged to.

The door swung open before she could knock, Logan standing there in dark jeans and a fitted black shirt, his green eyes immediately narrowing with concern as they took her in.

"Bethany?" His voice was low, laced with worry. He reached out, gently cupping her face, his thumbs brushing away tears she hadn't realized had fallen. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

Bethany opened her mouth, but no words came out. She stepped inside, her legs feeling weak as the weight of Juliette's threats bore down on her. Logan shut the door behind her, his movements quick but controlled, guiding her to the couch as she sank into the cushions.

He crouched in front of her, his hands firmly holding hers. "Talk to me, sweetheart," he urged, his voice softer now. "You're scaring me."

Bethany swallowed hard, her chest tightening. "It's Juliette," she whispered, her voice breaking. "She... she threatened me."

Logan's expression darkened instantly, a storm brewing in his eyes. "What did she say?" His voice was ice-cold, his jaw tightening as anger began to ripple through him.

"She said if I didn't leave you—if I didn't move away from Seattle—she'd destroy my career," Bethany said, her words tumbling out between sobs. "She said no one would work with me, that she has the power to ruin everything I've worked for."

Logan stood abruptly, pacing in front of her like a caged animal. His fists clenched at his sides, his body radiating fury. "That manipulative b***h," he growled, his voice low and deadly. "I'll destroy her before I let her touch you."

"Logan, no," Bethany said quickly, standing to grab his arm. "You can't. She has influence, and if you escalate this—"

"I don't care," Logan cut her off, his voice rising. "She has no right to threaten you. She thinks she can bully you into walking away from me? She's out of her damn mind."

Bethany shook her head, her tears flowing freely now. "You don't understand. This isn't just about us. If I fight her, I lose everything. I'm a Black woman in a white-dominated industry. She can recover. I can't. It's not the same for me, Logan."

Logan's fury didn't waver, but his gaze softened at her words. He stepped closer, cupping her face again. "You're not going to lose anything," he said firmly. "If she wants to ruin your career, then we'll make sure she doesn't have the chance."

"Logan..." Bethany began, her voice barely above a whisper. "I think we need to—"

"No." His voice was sharp, cutting off her sentence. "Don't you dare say what I think you're about to say."

Bethany's lips trembled as she tried to push through. "I think we need to end this."

"Absolutely not," Logan said, his tone resolute. He pulled her closer, his hands gripping her shoulders. "Bethany, listen to me. I'm not letting you go because of her. Do you hear me? She doesn't get to win."

"Logan, I can't—"

"Yes, you can," he interrupted again. "If you lose your career, then I'll help you start your own firm. You'll have your own clients, your own name, your own rules. I'll make it happen."

Bethany's breath hitched, her heart pounding. "Why would you do that for me?" she asked, her voice breaking.

Logan's green eyes softened, and he pulled her even closer, resting his forehead against hers. "Because I love you, Bethany," he said, his voice raw and unwavering. "I love you, and I'm not letting anyone take you away from me."

Bethany's tears continued to fall, but this time they weren't just from fear. They were from the overwhelming weight of his words, the sincerity in his voice. "I love you too," she whispered, her hands gripping his shirt tightly. "I'm scared, but I love you."

Logan kissed her then, a fierce, unyielding kiss that seemed to pour every ounce of his emotions into her. His hands cradled her face as if she were the most precious thing in the world, and Bethany melted into him, her heart finally steadying for the first time since the meeting with Juliette.

When they finally pulled apart, Logan's expression was filled with determination. "We'll figure this out," he promised, his voice steady. "Together."

Bethany nodded, her fears still present but tempered by the strength of his love. For the first time, she felt like she wasn't facing this battle alone.

A soft knock at the door broke their moment. Logan frowned, glancing at the clock. It was nearly midnight. "Stay here," he said, his protective instincts kicking in. "I'll check who it is."

Bethany nodded, watching as Logan walked to the door. He opened it cautiously, revealing a delivery man holding an envelope. No food, no package—just a simple, unmarked envelope.

"Mr. Chase?" the man asked.

"That's me," Logan said, taking the envelope. The delivery man nodded and disappeared into the elevator.

Logan turned the envelope over in his hands as he walked back to the living room, his brow furrowed. "This is odd," he muttered.

"What is it?" Bethany asked, stepping closer.

"I don't know. There's no return address."

Bethany felt a chill run down her spine as Logan opened the envelope. Inside was a single piece of paper with just a few typed lines:

Logan,

You've always been so good at keeping secrets. Let's see how long that lasts now. Check your inbox.

Logan's face darkened, his jaw tightening as he read the note.

"What the hell is this?" he growled, tossing the paper onto the coffee table and pulling out his phone.

"Logan, wait," Bethany said, her voice uneasy. "Maybe we should—"

"It's fine," Logan cut her off, unlocking his phone and opening his email. As soon as he accessed his inbox, his face paled. He swore under his breath, his fingers hovering over the screen.

"What is it?" Bethany asked, her voice trembling.

Logan turned the phone to show her the subject line of an email: Your dirty laundry. Below it were a series of attached files and a message that read: Let's talk terms before this becomes public knowledge.

"Who sent this?" Bethany whispered, her heart racing.

"There's no name," Logan muttered, scrolling through the email. "Just an anonymous address."

Bethany grabbed his arm, her panic rising. "What could they have on you, Logan?"

Logan hesitated, his jaw clenching. "It could be anything," he admitted. "Old business deals, personal stuff... it's hard to say. But someone's trying to leverage it."

Bethany's mind spun with possibilities. "Do you think it's Juliette?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Logan shook his head slowly, his expression dark and unreadable. "No. This isn't her style. She's direct—she wouldn't go through the trouble of being anonymous."

Bethany's stomach twisted. "Then who?"

Before Logan could respond, his phone buzzed in his hand. A new email popped into his inbox with a single, chilling line:

This is only the beginning.

The room seemed to grow colder as the weight of the message settled over them. Bethany's heart pounded in her chest, and Logan's expression hardened into a mask of determination.

"Whoever this is," Logan said, his voice low and dangerous, "they just made the biggest mistake of their life."

Bethany grabbed his hand, her fear replaced with a steely resolve. "We'll handle this together, Logan. No more secrets."

Logan's green eyes met hers, filled with a mixture of anger and gratitude. "Together," he agreed.

But as they stood in the quiet tension of the penthouse, both of them couldn't shake the feeling that their lives were about to change forever—and not for the better.

~*~

The room was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the glow of a laptop screen and a small desk lamp. Papers were scattered across the mahogany desk, maps and schematics pinned to the walls, alongside photographs of Logan Chase, Bethany Scott, and the towering buildings associated with Legacy Realty. The figure seated at the desk leaned back in a sleek leather chair, swirling a glass of wine in one hand while their other fingers tapped idly against the desk.

"They don't even know what's coming," the figure murmured, their voice laced with satisfaction. The air in the room was heavy with anticipation, the kind that came with knowing the pieces of a long-laid plan were finally falling into place.

Across from them, another shadowed figure stood, arms crossed. "You're sure this is the right time?" they asked, their voice cautious. "Logan's resilient. And with his father's name still carrying weight—"

The seated figure cut them off with a sharp wave of their hand. "Resilient, yes. But he's also arrogant. That's his weakness—he thinks he can control everything and everyone around him." A smile curled their lips as they took a sip of the wine. "And his little girlfriend? She's just another liability he doesn't see coming."

The standing figure shifted uncomfortably. "Bethany Scott seems sharper than you're giving her credit for. She held her own at that dinner, and now she's got Benjamin's approval. That could complicate things."

A dry laugh escaped the seated figure's throat. "Benjamin's approval is worth less than he thinks. The old man's been coasting on his reputation for years. Logan's company is vulnerable because of him. He's desperate to prove himself, to show he's more than just his father's shadow. That desperation is going to cost him."

The figure leaned forward, their eyes narrowing as they focused on one of the photographs pinned to the wall—a candid shot of Logan and Bethany at the vineyard, smiling, their hands intertwined. The glass of wine hovered in midair, their grip tightening.

"Juliette was a nice distraction," they mused, almost to themselves. "Her ego made her easy to manipulate. But she's not the real weapon. She's just the spark to light the fire."

The standing figure frowned. "And the email? Wasn't that a little... premature? It could spook them."

"Exactly," the seated figure said, their smile widening. "I want them spooked. I want Logan to be paranoid, questioning everyone around him. That's when mistakes are made. He's already stretched thin—one more push, and he'll c***k. And when he does..." They trailed off, gesturing to a map of Seattle with red circles drawn around key properties. "We'll be there to sweep up the pieces."

The standing figure hesitated. "And Bethany?"

The smile faded slightly, replaced by a calculating look. "She's the wild card," the figure admitted. "Logan's Achilles' heel. If she stays by his side, she could strengthen him. But if we play this right, she'll walk away, and Logan will unravel. Either way, she's not a threat. She's just collateral damage."

A silence fell over the room, the tension thick and palpable. The seated figure stood, placing the wine glass down and turning to face their accomplice fully. Their expression was one of cool determination, their voice low and deliberate.

"This isn't just about Logan. It's about everything the Chase family represents—their empire, their privilege, their arrogance. They've had their reign. Now it's our turn."

The standing figure nodded slowly, their expression unreadable. "And when it's done?"

The seated figure's smile returned, colder this time. "When it's done, there won't be a Chase name left to remember."

As the standing figure left the room, the seated figure returned to their desk, their fingers brushing over the edge of a photograph. It was a younger Logan, smiling broadly in what appeared to be a celebratory moment—a memory of a time when he thought the world was his for the taking.

"Enjoy the calm while it lasts," the figure whispered, their voice dripping with malice. "Because your legacy is mine to destroy."

With a final sip of wine, they leaned back in the chair, satisfied. The game was in motion, and they had every intention of winning.

Logan and Bethany's story continues in Compulsion, coming March 2026...