DANGEROUS OBSESSION

3

LAUREN MOSS

It didn’t take long, and before I knew it, we were in front of my parents’ mansion.

The entire drive felt a bit strange, even with Samuel trying to break the silence, and now my heart starts racing.

“Nice mansion,” Samuel comments, and I force a weak smile.

Only the mansion is nice. The inside definitely isn’t.

The only good place in there is my room.

I see the main door being opened by the security guards, and the housekeeper stands there with them, all looking in our direction.

“They were looking for you,” Samuel says sarcastically as we get out of the car. I take a deep breath.

“The guards lost sight of me, that’s why. They normally wouldn’t,” I say, walking towards the entrance with him.

Nervous.

“Good night!” the housekeeper says, blushing when she sees Samuel. He offers her a polite smile.

“Your parents are waiting for you in the living room,” she says, giving me a judgmental look, as always, and I simply nod.

The problematic daughter has arrived!

“Lauren!” my mother shouts as soon as I walk into the living room, but her expression transforms into a princess one when she sees Samuel right behind me. “I didn’t know you were coming accompanied, dear,” she says softly, and I roll my eyes.

Everyone’s face in that room suddenly changes the moment they see him.

Of course it does. He’s wearing a Rolex, and we arrived in a Rolls Royce.

That’s all they care about.

He could even be a killer, as long as he pleased their eyes.

Idiots.

My sister is already looking at me with disdain, and the other two with indifference.

“Lauren!” I hear Miriam call out from behind as she runs to hug me, calming me down. “I was so worried! Why didn’t you answer your phone?” she asks, hugging me, and my heart—which had calmed for a moment—starts racing again.

“I’ll explain everything later, but act like you don’t know anything,” I whisper in her ear, and she nods before we pull apart.

“My phone ran out of battery,” I say, trying not to let my whirlwind of emotions show in front of any of them.

“I’m Kianna Moss, Lauren’s mother,” my mother introduces herself to Samuel.

“I’m John,” Samuel says, and I stare at him in internal panic as he greets my mother, who is smiling genuinely, something I’ve never seen before.

Even my father greeted him.

“You could’ve told us you were with someone, so we could have avoided to send the guards after you,” my brother says, putting his phone away.

“Wow, so empathic,” I say, and receive scolding looks in return.

“Well, have a seat, John!” my mother says.

“He’s not sitting. We’re leaving,” I say, already fed up with their hypocrisy.

If it was my sister who had supposedly disappeared, they would have hugged her, donated millions just to thank her for showing up, from wherever she had been.

“What do you mean? Where are you going?” my father questions, already looking at Samuel, and my throat tightens.

“Well, Mr. Jacob Moss, your daughter created a phenomenal project at the university,” Samuel says, and I see all eyes turning to me.

“Really?” my father asks, looking genuinely surprised, as always underestimating me.

“Yes.” Samuel affirms, handing him one of those business cards.

They thought of everything.

“Oh, interesting…” says my father, lifting his cold, well-hidden stare toward me.

“Is that why she disappeared?” asks.

“I didn’t disappear. Your guards just weren’t paying attention,” I say, out of patience.

“Lauren!” my lovely sister says in a scolding tone, irritating, and I roll my eyes.

“I…” I stutter, looking at Samuel, not knowing what to say. “I had to go to the company to explain and work on the development of my project,” I lie, and he nods, leaving me relieved.

“It’s a confidential project, and the company wants her to handle it personally,” he explains, and my father nods, observing the card and John… I mean, Samuel, closely.

“Of course, that’s great,” my father says, and my mother smiles.

To anyone else watching this interaction, it might even seem that the care is real.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this earlier, daughter?” Daughter?

“Please, not at this hour of the night. Spare me,” I say, having no patience for this, and he pretends not to hear me.

“Please, tell me more,” he says to Samuel, who willingly accompanies him to talk about the ‘project.’

Now I’m wondering if he’s actually referring to a real company. From what I can see, my father knows it, since he didn’t question anything. And since he’s smiling, he must have some interest or respect for this supposed company.

“I’m going to pack my things,” I say to Samuel, who nods.

“Lauren!” my beautiful sister says, coming towards me and gripping my hand hard enough that I immediately pull away from her hold. “Where did you find him? Are you dating him?” she asks, apparently jealous.

“Don’t irritate me,” I say, pulling Miriam by the arm to my side.

“And don’t even try it. He’s not interested in you at all,” I make it clear to her, and she looks at me in anger as I walk up the stairs, ignoring her.

I am so sick of all of them.

“Lauren…” Miriam says in a worried tone as we enter my room. I lock the door, just in case any of them try to come in. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” she asks, worried, and I smile at her as I hurriedly grab my suitcases. She helps me stuff everything inside them.

“My knees and elbows,” I answer her question. “Miriam, how did you let me do this?” I ask, upset and still confused about how I ended up here, and she rolls her eyes.

“It’s not like I didn’t try,” replies, shoving my hair, bath, and skincare products into one suitcase while I throw a bunch of things into another: underwear, hygiene products, workout clothes—practically everything.

“And the man? What I heard… was that gunfire?” she asks, and I nod, half-panicked, making her cover her mouth, shocked.

“He died?” she asks, and my hairs stand on end.

I remember they said they wanted all of this to remain confidential, but this is Miriam we’re talking about. She knows everything.

“Yes,” I say, and I watch her turn pale. “I know…” I say, feeling my heart race and my strength saying bye bye.

“But you met Blake Wray?” she asks, and I smile, feeling my face heat up.

Heavens, I killed someone, and I’m smiling because I met someone I wasn’t even supposed to look for.

“You met him?” she squeals excitedly.

She already forgot I just said I killed someone. That was fast.

“The training email, remember?” I ask her, and she nods, curious.

“Yes, what about it?” she asks while I throw shoes, flats… I’m literally putting almost everything I own into the suitcase.

No one can blame me. Honestly, I can’t even think straight. I haven’t had time to think about any of this. I don’t even know what’s going to happen to me from now on.

“He’s the one giving the training,” I tell her, and her eyes light up.

“I can’t believe it!” she exclaims.

“Yell louder, Miriam!” I say, and she covers her mouth, laughing.

“So he’s not really John?” she asks, referring to Samuel, and I shake my head, closing the suitcase.

“Miriam, this has to stay between us,” I say, and she smiles.

“And who would I even tell something like this to?” she asks rhetorically.

“No one, but they asked for secrecy, and I’m telling you,” I say.

“Don’t worry, your mouth and my mouth are each other’s grave,” she says, and I smile as she helps me close everything.

“Are you sure about this, Lauren?” Miriam asks when we finish the last suitcase, and I look at her, taking a deep breath.

“I don’t really know how any of this is going to be, or how it even happened, or what’s going to happen to me… but nothing is better than leaving this place,” I say, and she gives me a sympathetic smile.

“I know,” she says, confirming it.

Only she can understand me.

The Moss family is an authentic fraud.

“I love you,” she says, hugging me.

“I love you,” I reply, returning the hug, when there’s a knock on the door. It’s the housekeeper.

“Are you ready?” she asks.

“More than ready,” I reply, grabbing my things and handing them to the security guards who are here.

I leave the room with Miriam, along with the rest of my things.

We go downstairs, and I watch the guards load my suitcases into Samuel’s car.

“I’m ready,” I say, smiling at Samuel, who nods, stands up, and shakes my father’s hand. My father looks at me differently now, curious.

Of course. He’s definitely wondering when all of this happened without him noticing.

“Aren’t you going to say goodbye to your father?” he asks.

Good grief…

“Good night,” I say, without any patience left.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, John,” my sister says, throwing herself at him as always, and my mother smiles at that. Samuel gives a diplomatic smile and walks towards me.

“The pleasure was mine, Mr. and Mrs. Moss,” he says, all suave, and they smile, their egos already stroked.

They love a compliment.

“Shall we, Lauren?” Samuel asks, looking at me.

“Let’s go!” I answer, wanting to get out of here as fast as possible.

“I’ll go now too! Bye!” Miriam says, grabbing her purse, and I nod.

“Goodbye!” they answer her.

“Make us proud, daughter,” my mother says, and I roll my eyes.

“I don’t care,” I reply, walking out, followed by Samuel and Miriam.

So fake. I can’t stand them.

There’s absolutely no better decision than this one.

From now on, I’ll manage on my own. I’ve always known how to. What matters is that I’m no longer in this toxic place.

And well, if they didn’t stop me from leaving, then I really have nothing to worry about.

They never cared about me, and they won’t start now. The fact that they’re convinced I didn’t do anything foolish that could stain the blessed reputation of the family and his image… the fact that I simply disappeared… doesn’t bother him.

Just like how I feel doesn’t matter.

“Call me when you get there,” Miriam says, and I nod, returning her hug.

“I will,” I answer, with my heart tightening as I watch the driver bring her car around.

“It was a pleasure, John,” Miriam says, and he nods. “Good night!”

“Good night!” we reply, and then we get inside the car. I buckle my seatbelt, and he drives off in silence.

“You don’t seem to get along with your parents,” Samuel says out of nowhere, and I sigh.

“And I don’t. Not with my parents, not with my siblings,” I say, and he nods, with his eyes still on the road.

“They seemed proud of you,” he comments, making me turn my head to look at him.

“They seemed?” I ask sarcastically, and he smiles.

“No,” he states, and I smile too, turning my face back to the road, exhaling.

Other people may fall for their little performance, but not me.

“They saw you and got interested in the story you made up, that’s why they looked happy,” I say. “That’s all it was,” I clarify, and he nods subtly. I fall silent too.

It’s funny, normally parents care more about their younger children… In school, college, with every group of people I’ve ever been around, that’s the usual pattern.

But my parents never cared about me—only about my presentation. As long as my grades are acceptable, that’s what matters to them. After all, I’ve always studied in privileged schools, among the children of people they care about, so I’d better not embarrass them.

I must not dare embarrass them.

In school, I spent every single consecutive year on the honor roll as the best student.

Incredible, isn’t it?

Yeah, I know.

I used to think that getting good grades would please them, but if not even winning awards made them care about me, then I simply chose not to care either.

After all, what did I have to lose?

Everything got worse when they forced me into college to study something I didn’t even want, for their own sake.

Ungrateful?

Maybe I would be, if I hadn’t earned admission to the college I actually wanted with a scholarship. I had that chance, but I was forced to do what they chose.

And even though the course is easy, it’s not what I like. Still, since I’m already doing it, I pass.

But I don’t put effort into it either.

There’s no reason to.

Maybe that’s why they were surprised by the story Samuel came up with.

I’m their fourth child, and they thought they could manipulate me the same way they did with the older ones, who are carbon copies of them. They’re all copies of each other, which is why they get along so well—so well that I ended up becoming their nightmare.

I’m the misaligned one, the one who supposedly doesn’t care about anything.

And it’s not even me saying that. Not even the housekeeper likes me.

You saw it...

According to them, being a normal person means being the black sheep. Going to my friends’ parties, dressing how I want, and simply not dating whoever they throw at me is considered abnormal, a disrespect to my parents.

Am I that much of a black sheep just because I want attention and affection from my parents and siblings, instead of being “grateful” for the material things I have?

And so you can see it’s not all in my head, you saw their reaction when I arrived.

Completely unconcerned.

I have Miriam. She’s the daughter of my parents’ friends, my best friend. Her parents would have reacted in the complete opposite way. They would have been worried about her, not about how many security guards they had to send to find me.

But well, at this point, it doesn’t hurt anymore, and I honestly don’t care.

I’m far away from them, and I was recruited by the FBI overnight, and somehow—by some miracle—I’ll be trained by Blake Wray…

Something tells me things are going to get a lot more interesting from now on.