Loving Adam Scott

Obsession

Addison's P.O.V.

I walked into Scott Industries with purpose, my favourite nude heels striking the tiled floor. Each step echoed, bold and unapologetic.

I wasn’t here for Adam Scott.

I was here for business.

And maybe... a sliver of revenge.

His secretary led me to the boardroom. The meeting had already started without me.

All eyes turned toward me the moment I entered. I didn’t know if it was the sharp rhythm of my heels or the fragrance of my perfume trailing behind me, but I knew what made their gazes linger—my dress. A black, body-hugging dress that exposed my shoulders and slick neckline, custom-designed by Annabelle Whitmore, an icon in the fashion world. A masterpiece that whispered danger and power.

"Miss Storm," Adam said, standing as he gestured to the speaker to pause.

"Mr Scott," I returned with a polite smile, "I hope I’m not late."

"Not at all. We decided to handle other matters before diving into today’s agenda. Please, have a seat." He gestured to the seat directly across from him at the head of the table.

I nodded once and slid into the chair.

He introduced me to his staff. And the next thirty minutes were all business. Numbers, timelines, projected returns, and risk margins.

And after the meeting concluded, he led me to his office, but the moment we stepped into his office afterwards, the energy shifted.

Silence lingered, uncomfortable. Like the calm before a storm, neither of us had the courage to speak first.

"Coffee?" he offered suddenly, like he couldn’t take the silence any longer.

"No, thank you," I replied, keeping my tone cool and distant.

He chuckled under his breath. "Still don’t like coffee, huh?" A crooked, casual smile played on his lips, his eyes searching mine for something. "You still think it’s just an ‘adult thing'?" He asked, bringing back memories that I haven't forgotten.

Flashback—Seven Years Ago

"You need coffee if you’re going to ace this exam," he said, nudging the steaming cup toward me.

"Ugh. No, Adam. Give me hot chocolate. You know I hate coffee," I replied with a dramatic pout.

"Yes, but you need it to stay awake. Exams are next week. And university is just around the corner; it is time to start caring about your grades."

"It is an adult thing; I am just a teenager. And I still have no idea what I want to study."

He grinned subtly. "You’ll figure it out with time. Don’t rush."

I reached for his hand, drawing hearts on it with my fingertip. "You already knew what you wanted to study as soon as you entered high school."

"I’m different. I call it 'ambitious'."

"Then what am I?" I asked, staring at him with puppy eyes, secretly hoping he’d kiss me the way the male lead always kisses the heroine in those dramatic movies just to shut her up.

"You’re Addy’s daughter. The Storm. You don’t have to know now. You’ll storm through when the time is right. Whatever you choose to do, you’ll be brilliant."

Then he leaned down and kissed my forehead.

I remember thinking that I wanted to have his baby.

Present

Well... I guess some wishes do come true.

"I’ll get you hot chocolate instead," he offered.

"No need." I stood up abruptly, aiming to end the conversation.

"Addy’s daughter," he muttered, reaching out and brushing his fingers over mine.

Years ago, that touch would’ve melted me.

Today, it set me on fire but not the sweet kind. It burnt. It reminded me of everything I lost, everything he never gave.

"Stay," he said softly. "Let’s talk. What have you been up to these few years?"

Few years?

I bit my tongue. I wanted to snap; he called those five trying years of my life a few years.

"You disappeared without a word," he continued, his hand now fully holding mine, his thumb tracing slowly familiar circles into my palm.

I disappeared!

I hated how my body remembered that gesture. I hated how it made me feel seen and stripped bare at once.

I yanked my hand away. "We can talk more tomorrow."

"I thought you liked risks," he muttered suddenly.

I turned to him, confused.

Not understanding what he meant.

Was he talking about the project?

Or… us?

No. He couldn’t mean that. He wouldn’t dare. He was married now. Tied to another.

Then again, he was bold the night he said "I do". Why wouldn’t he be now?

He smirked and sat on his chair in a relaxed manner, watching me too closely. His gaze was calculating, curious. Not romantic. Not lustful.

He chuckled. "I’m referring to the second proposal," he clarified, tapping a file. "It is dangerous, but the rewards could be substantial. I thought you liked taking risks." He mentioned it again.

He bit his lower lip as if daring me to say otherwise.

"You hated playing it safe," he added, eyes locked on mine. "Especially when it comes to me." He said the last part quietly.

"That was a long time ago," I said, finally finding my voice and pretending to have missed the last part. "We aren't kids anymore, Scott."

Then I picked up my nude handbag and walked out before he could say anything else because if he did, I didn’t trust what I might feel... or do.

Later That Evening—Home

Nathaniel was in the kitchen, barefoot, sleeves rolled up, stirring sauce in a pan. The smell of tomatoes and spices filled the air like comfort.

Mia was upstairs watching cartoons, the TV playing louder than necessary as usual.

And everything looked perfect.

Too perfect.

I walked up behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist.

"Hey," he said, surprised. He turned to kiss my cheek. "You’re early."

"I wanted to be home," I murmured. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either.

Dinner was nice. Mia was full of energy, chatting about her day. Nathaniel made her laugh with silly voices and jokes. I laughed too. I smiled. I nodded.

I pretended.

After dinner, he tucked Mia into bed and whispered something that made her giggle before grabbing a book. I watched from the doorway, then turned away, guilt nipping at me.

By the time he returned to our room, I had already showered and was sitting on the bed. Bare-chested. Waiting. I needed him but not for the right reasons.

He didn’t notice at first. "You came back early. Everything alright?" He asked.

"Yes, the meeting wrapped up quickly," I replied.

Guilt crept in slowly. Not because I’d done anything wrong. But because I wanted to.

He began to undress, and I watched him. My gaze on every movement. Every detail on his body. Then I moved towards him and wrapped my arms around his waist.

He turned around and smiled that charming smile, brushing my hair behind my ear.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Just a long day," I said, but it came out hoarse.

I leaned into him. Kissed him hard.

He responded instantly, like he always did. His mouth was warm and slow, patient and gentle as always. He touched me like I mattered. Like I was all he’d ever need.

But I wasn’t gentle.

I jumped into his arms, legs wrapped around his waist, hands tangled in his hair. I guided him toward the wall.

He hesitated. Looked at the bed, then back at me. Then nodded.

At the wall, I raised my arms, silently asking him to pin me.

His brow furrowed in confusion because this wasn't our usual, but he obeyed. He always did.

And as I pulled him closer, pressing my body to his, the memory slammed into me.

I realised I was recreating my first time with Adam Scott, the memory that never left me. The night I conceived Mia.

I froze.

Nathaniel noticed. Thought I was uncomfortable. He gently shifted us to the bed. In seconds, we were naked, raw and vulnerable, just like the day we entered this world.

That night, I made love to Nathaniel like I was trying to scrub someone else off my skin. Like I needed to bury the heat, the look, the memory of Adam’s eyes on me.

He held me afterwards.

His hand on my back.

Hearts beating slowly.

And I hated myself a little for thinking of another man while lying next to the one who never stopped choosing me.