Obsessed Love

CHAPTER 2-Despair at Avalon

The mansion was silent.

Not the peaceful silence of late night. This was the silence of a tomb. Of a house holding its breath. Even the wall clocks seemed afraid to tick too loud.

Mr. Sterling hadn’t left his study in 14 hours.

Luke stood outside the oak doors, holding a tray. Black coffee. Untouched for the third time today. The maids whispered that Boss hadn’t eaten. Hadn’t slept. Hadn’t spoken except to say _“Leave me.”_

Luke knocked once. “Sir. It’s 10 AM. You should—”

“Did I not say leave me, Luke?” The voice from inside was hoarse. Broken glass and whiskey. Not the voice that closed billion-dollar deals. Not the voice that made Avalon’s mayor sweat.

Luke didn’t leave. He pushed the door open.

The study smelled like grief. Cigarette smoke, spilled bourbon, and something else. Something empty.

Mr. Sterling sat on the floor. Not at his ₦15 million mahogany desk. On the floor, like a beggar. His Italian suit was the same one from the hospital. Wrinkled. Stained. There were dark circles under his eyes that had nothing to do with lack of sleep and everything to do with a hole ripped out of his chest.

Around him, scattered like fallen soldiers, were photographs.

heir wedding. Avalon Cathedral, 10 years ago. She was laughing, flowers in her hair. She looked like a cute little flower, just like Luke remembered.

Their honeymoon in Maldives. Her bare feet in the sand, holding a seashell to his ear. _“Listen, darling. The ocean sounds like our future.”_

Jack’s 1st birthday. She had cake on her nose. Jack was in her arms, chubby and grinning. Mr. Sterling stood behind them, arms wrapped around both. His whole world in one frame.

Now half his world was covered in a white cloth in Avalon Morgue.

"Sir,” Luke said softly. “The lawyers are calling. The board is asking. Sterling Industries stock dropped 8% this morning. They need—”

“Let it drop to zero.” Mr. Sterling didn’t look up. He was tracing his wife’s face in a photo. His thumb kept going over her smile. Over and over. Like if he touched it enough, she’d smile back. “What is money without her, Luke? Tell me. What is Avalon without her?”

Luke had no answer. Because Mr. Sterling was right. The Sterling empire was built on two people. Him with the ruthlessness. Her with the heart. She was the one who told him to build the children’s hospital. She was the one who made him donate, who made him human.

And now she was gone.

A small sound came from the doorway.

Jack..

He stood there in his pajamas. The same ones from yesterday. His eyes were swollen from crying. His hair was a mess. He looked 5, not 8. He looked like a little boy who’d lost his mum, not the heir to Avalon’s most feared family.

Jack didn’t run to his dad. He never ran to his dad. Mr. Sterling taught him that men don’t run. Men don’t cry. Men don’t need.

But today, Jack took one step into the study. Then another. His green eyes - _her_ green eyes - fixed on the photographs.

“Dad?” His voice was small. Broken.

Mr. Sterling’s head snapped up. For 14 hours he’d forgotten he had a son. For 14 hours the world was just him and his dead wife.

Seeing Jack hit him like a truck.

Jack was _hers_. Her eyes. Her soft hair. Her stubborn chin. And he was looking at Mr. Sterling like he was waiting for Dad to fix this. Like Dad could bring Mum back if he just yelled loud enough.

Mr. Sterling tried to stand. His legs gave out. He’d been on the floor too long.

Luke rushed to help, but Jack was faster.

Eight years old, 4 feet tall, and he grabbed his father’s arm and pulled. “Dad, get up.”

The command in his voice. So much like his father. So much like the man who’d kicked a doctor yesterday.

Mr. Sterling let his son pull him up. He stumbled to his desk chair and collapsed into it. Jack didn’t let go of his arm.

“Dad, where’s Mum?” Jack asked. The same question from yesterday. But yesterday Mum was screaming in labor. Today...

Mr. Sterling couldn’t say it again. Saying it once had nearly killed him.

Luke stepped forward. “Young master, your mother... she’s with the angels now.”

“Don’t lie to him, Luke.” Mr. Sterling’s voice was ice. “He’s a Sterling. Sterlings don’t get fairytales.” He looked at Jack. Forced himself to meet those green eyes. “Your mother died, Jack. At the hospital. Giving birth to your sister.”

Jack flinched like he’d been slapped. His grip on his dad’s arm tightened until his knuckles went white.

“Where is she?” Jack whispered. “I want to see her.”

“No.”

“I WANT TO SEE MY MUM!” Jack screamed. It was the first time Luke had ever heard him raise his voice. It wasn’t a tantrum. It was agony. Raw, 8-year-old agony. “You said nothing would happen! You PROMISED!”

Mr. Sterling grabbed Jack’s shoulders. Hard. “I know! I know I promised! And I failed! I failed her, Jack! I failed you!” His voice broke on the last word and suddenly the most powerful man in Avalon was crying. Ugly, heaving sobs. In front of his son. In front of Luke.

Jack froze. He’d never seen his dad cry. Never. Mr. Sterling didn’t cry when his own father died. Didn’t cry when they lost ₦50 billion in a bad deal.

But he cried for her.

Slowly, awkwardly, Jack did something he’d never done before. He hugged his dad.

He climbed into Mr. Sterling’s lap - something he hadn’t done since he was 3 - and wrapped his skinny arms around his father’s neck.

Mr. Sterling broke completely. He buried his face in Jack’s hair and sobbed. “I’m sorry, son. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t save her. I should have... I should have done something.”

Jack didn’t say _it’s okay_. Because it wasn’t. Instead he said, “I miss her, Dad.”

“I know. I do too. God, I do too.”

They stayed like that for a long time. Luke quietly backed out and closed the door. Some moments weren’t for witnesses.

After an hour, the sobs stopped. Mr. Sterling pulled back and looked at his son. Really looked. Jack’s face was wet with tears. Snot ran down his nose. He looked wrecked. He looked 8.

“Come with me,” Mr. Sterling said suddenly. He stood, still holding Jack.

“Where?”

“To see her.”

Luke’s head shot up when they opened the study door. “Sir, the morgue—”

“I know where she is, Luke.” Mr. Sterling’s voice was dead again. Empty. But he was holding Jack tight. “Get the car. We’re going. Now.”

“Dad, what about...” Jack hesitated. “What about the baby?”

Mr. Sterling’s jaw clenched. The baby. The daughter who’d taken his wife. The daughter with her mother’s fingers. He hadn’t seen her since the hospital. Couldn’t.

“Leave her,” he said coldly. “The maids will handle it.”

But Jack shook his head. “Mum would want us to see her. She... she was excited, Dad. Remember? She kept talking about dresses and tea parties.”

Mum. Her name was Sarah. Sarah Sterling. And she’d spent 9 months talking to her stomach, telling _Hope_ about the garden they’d plant together.

Hope. She’d named the baby before surgery. _“If it’s a girl, call her Hope. Because she’s our hope for the future, darling.”_

Mr. Sterling closed his eyes. He could still hear her voice.

“Fine,” he said. “Bring the baby. We’re all going.”

Two hours later, the black Rolls-Royce stopped outside Avalon Morgue. Reporters were already gathering. News of Mrs. Sterling’s death had leaked. _STERLING WIFE DIES IN CHILDBIRTH_ was trending in Avalon.

Mr. Sterling stepped out first, wearing black sunglasses. He looked like a king going to war. Then he reached back in and lifted Jack out.

Luke followed, carrying a small bundle wrapped in a white blanket. The baby. Hope. She was silent. Hadn’t cried since birth, the nurses said. Like she knew.

The three Sterling men walked into the morgue. A father, a son, and a daughter who’d never meet her mother.

Mrs. Sterling lay there, peaceful. Like she was sleeping. She still looked like a cute little flower.

Jack made a sound. A wounded animal sound. He broke from his dad and ran to her. “Mum! Mum, wake up! Please!”

Mr. Sterling didn’t stop him. He just stood there, holding the baby he didn’t want, looking at the wife he couldn’t save, and the son he’d failed.

His empire. His family. All broken in one night.

He looked down at Hope. She opened her eyes. Green. _Sarah’s_ green.

And for the first time since the doctor said _“we couldn’t save her”_, Mr. Sterling felt something other than rage.

He felt scared.

Because how was he supposed to raise two children alone, when the only person who’d taught him how to love was gone?