I Kissed The I Thought Was My Date

THE MONARCH'S OBSESSION

CHAPTER 3: Possession

Life with Damien Montenegro was… overwhelming. It was intense. It was suffocating. It was perfect.

He took me to his home—a massive mansion sitting on top of a hill overlooking the entire city, surrounded by high iron gates, armed guards, high walls, and security systems more advanced than a military base. It was bigger than a hotel, filled with marble floors, gold fixtures, crystal chandeliers, expensive art, and servants who bowed their heads whenever we passed, treating me like royalty.

He gave me everything I could ever want. He bought me a whole new wardrobe—clothes that were actually made for my size, clothes that hugged my curves and made me look like a queen. Dresses that fit my wide hips and full breasts perfectly. Silk robes that felt like water against my skin. He bought me jewelry that sparkled like stars—diamonds, pearls, gold, rubies—adoring every part of me. He bought me cars. He gave me unlimited credit cards. Anything I pointed at, anything I mentioned, anything I even looked at for too long… it was mine.

But most of all… he gave me attention.

Damien was possessive beyond belief.

He didn’t let anyone else look at me. If a man’s eyes lingered on me for even a second too long, Damien would step in front of me, shielding me with his huge frame, and look at the man with a glare so cold it could freeze fire. Men would look away instantly, terrified.

He didn’t let anyone talk to me too long, especially men.

He didn’t let me go anywhere without him or his personal guards.

He marked me. Every day. Every night. He left his marks on my skin, love bites and bruises, dark purple and red against my milky skin, so that everyone who saw me knew: She is Damien Montenegro’s woman.

He touched me constantly. Holding my hand. His hand on my waist. His arm around my shoulders. His hand resting possessively on my thigh whenever we sat together. He wanted everyone to know I was taken. That I was his property. That I belonged only to him.

And slowly… the cruel words Paxton said started fading.

Every time I looked in the mirror, Damien was there behind me. His massive body surrounding mine. His arms wrapped around my soft waist, his hands resting lovingly on my belly or my hips, squeezing them possessively. He would rest his chin on my shoulder, looking at our reflection, whispering deep, rough words against my skin, sending shivers down my spine.

“Look at you… so soft. So beautiful. Look at those curves… God, Anissa, you are perfect. Don’t you ever let anyone tell you differently. This body… this woman… belongs to me. And I love every single inch of it. I worship every part of you.”

He didn’t want me to change. He didn’t want me to be smaller. He didn’t want me to be thin.

He loved my curves. He loved my softness. He loved that I was womanly, that I was full, that I was real. He said that skinny women looked like children, like boys, like nothing. He said they were boring and cold. He said I was everything a man should ever desire.

“I don’t want you to starve yourself,” he told me one night, sitting at the dinner table, watching me eat with intense satisfaction. He had ordered the chefs to prepare everything I loved. “I want you to eat everything you want. I want you soft. I want you round. I want you healthy. I want you exactly as you are. The way God made you. The way I want you. The way I need you.”

He made me feel beautiful. He made me feel safe. He made me feel loved. He healed the wounds Paxton left behind without even trying, just by being himself, just by loving me fiercely and openly.

And then… one month later… Paxton tried to come back.

He found me. He waited outside the mansion gates. He looked desperate, poor, and broken. I later found out Damien had quietly ruined his career, his reputation, and his finances without me even knowing. Paxton had lost his job, his clients, his money, and his reputation. Cherise had left him the moment the money stopped coming. He realized what he had thrown away.

When I walked out of the gates to go to the shop, he ran to me, grabbing my arm, looking wild and disheveled.

“Anissa! Please! I made a mistake! I was stupid! I was blind! I didn’t know what I had! I love you! I want you back! You are beautiful! I see it now! You are everything! I was wrong, please forgive me!”

I just looked at him. I looked at the man I had cried over, the man I had destroyed myself for… and I felt nothing. No pain. No sadness. No love. Just… pity. And disgust.

“You didn’t love me then,” I said calmly, my voice strong and steady, a strength I had learned from Damien. “And you don’t love me now. You just want what you can’t have anymore. You threw me away because you thought I wasn’t enough. You called me names. You cheated on me. And now? Now I belong to a man who thinks I am everything. A man who worships the ground I walk on. A man who would destroy you just for speaking to me.”

Suddenly, Paxton was ripped away from me, thrown back and onto the gravel road with a heavy thud.

Damien stood there. He had appeared out of nowhere. He stood in front of me, shielding me with his huge frame, looking down at Paxton like he was nothing more than dirt, like he was an insect he was about to crush under his shoe.

Damien’s face was terrifying. Cold. Ruthless. Furious. His eyes were black voids of rage.

“She was beautiful when you had her,” Damien said, his voice low and deadly, vibrating with power. “She was perfect when she loved you. You were just too blind, too stupid, and too ugly inside to deserve her. You made her hate herself. You made her feel small. You made her cry. You broke her spirit. And for that… you will pay.”

He leaned down slightly, pointing a finger at the trembling Paxton, who was scrambling backward on his hands and knees, terrified.

“She is mine now. She belongs to Damien Montenegro. And you… you are nothing. You are less than nothing. If you ever even look in her direction again, if you ever speak her name, if you ever even think about her… I will make sure you never see the light of day again. I will erase you from existence. Get out of my sight before I end your miserable life right here.”

Paxton stood up and ran away as fast as he could, tripping over his own feet, disappearing forever from our lives.

Damien turned to me instantly. His face changed. The coldness vanished, replaced instantly by warmth, love, and softness. He cupped my face in his large hands, his dark eyes burning with adoration and possession.

“Are you okay, my love? Did he hurt you? Did he touch you?”

I shook my head, tears of happiness and relief filling my eyes. “No… I’m okay. Because I have you. Because you saved me.”

He smiled, that beautiful, dangerous smile that belonged only to me. He pulled me against his chest, wrapping me in his strength, burying his face in my hair, inhaling my scent.

“You see?” he whispered. “He realized too late. He threw away a diamond because he thought it was just glass. But I… I knew exactly what you were the moment I saw you. And I will spend every day proving to you… that you are the only woman that matters. That you are my queen. That you are everything.”

He kissed me deeply, claiming me, loving me, owning me completely.

And in his arms… I finally understood.

I wasn’t the ugly fat duckling. I wasn’t too much. I wasn’t disgusting.

I was the queen.

The queen of Damien Montenegro’s world.

The woman he worshipped.

The woman he would burn the world down for.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

He was possessive. He was dangerous. He was powerful.

And I was his. Completely. Forever.

END