Bound By Obsession

Chapter Five

The Escalade sat idle a block down from the little two-story house. Its headlights were off. The engine purring low like a predator crouched in the dark.

Jeremiah hadn’t taken his eyes off the house for nearly the whole day. The porch light cast a soft glow on the peeling paint, shadows shifting behind the lace curtains of the living room.

He could see her silhouette move across the upstairs window—small, graceful, completely unaware of the storm closing in on her.

“She drinks tea,” Oldo reported from the driver’s seat, binoculars in hand like a kid at a baseball game. “Lots of it. Probably Earl Grey. You want me to note that down for when you send her your love letters?”

Jeremiah didn’t answer. His gaze tracked the faint outline of Gracie moving past the window again, his jaw tightening.

Oldo sighed, lowering the binoculars. “jefe, I gotta be honest. You’re creeping me out. I’ve seen you watch enemies before—hell, I’ve watched you end them—but this?” He pointed to the house.

“You’re staring at her like she’s the only thing keeping you alive.”

Jeremiah still said nothing, only making a mental note not to bring him along next time.

Oldo blinked, then barked out a laugh. “Jesus. You’re really gone, huh? One look and you’re planning the wedding. Should I be practicing my best man speech now, or after the kidnapping phase?”

Jeremiah’s head turned slowly, his dark eyes cutting into him. “Careful, don’t tempt me." The thought of taking her and keeping her for himself was too alluring.

“uh, I’m just saying, but she looks like the type that might stab first and ask questions later. Are you sure that’s what you want?”

Jeremiah leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, his gaze drifting back to that upstairs window.

“She’s exactly what I want.”

Silence stretched for a moment, broken only by the hum of the Escalade.

Oldo shook his head, chuckling under his breath. “Well, hell i guess the king to this empire found his queen."

Jeremiah didn’t respond. He was already picturing the curve of her smirk, the fire in her eyes, the way her voice might sound when she finally spoke his name.

Gracie Matthews didn’t know it yet, but she belonged to him.