Heiress Hidden Obsession

The name She called

At 11:30 AM, Julian pulled into the Davidson Industry headquarters. He moved through the lobby with a possessive arrogance, bypassing the reception desk and walking straight toward the executive offices. No one dared stop him or ask who he was there to see; everyone knew he was the man set to marry Lucy, the Davidson heiress.

Upstairs, Arthur Davidson checked his watch. 11:35 AM. He slammed his phone down after yet another failed attempt to reach his daughter. He had called her repeatedly, but the line remained stubbornly silent. His face darkened; Lucy was late, and his patience was gone.

“Julian, go to the house,” Arthur commanded. “Get her.”

Julian didn't hesitate. He drove to the mansion, bypassed the staff, and went straight to Lucy’s bedroom. The door was unlocked.

Lucy was fast asleep, a thin strap of her sleepwear slipping off her shoulder. Julian stepped inside, locked the door, and sat on the edge of her bed. He watched her, his breathing heavy. He reached out, his fingers grazing her bare arm.

Lucy stirred, her face softening in the dim light. “Brian…” she whispered, her voice thick with the remnants of her dream. “You came?”

She wasn't awake. Her subconscious was still clinging to the fantasy, guiding her movements with a desperate, sleepy hunger. She shifted, wrapped a warm arm around his neck, and pulled him down into a soft, searching kiss.

Julian’s heart hammered against his ribs—a sudden, frantic jolt of desire. He leaned into her, letting his control slip just for a second.

Then, her eyes opened.

The dream shattered. Reality slammed into her like a physical blow. The moment her gaze locked onto Julian’s face, the confusion in her eyes turned to pure, visceral revulsion. She recoiled, letting out a sharp, jagged scream as she scrambled back against the headboard, distancing herself as if he were a contagion.

She grabbed the nearest pillow and hurled it at his face with everything she had, her chest heaving with the sudden transition from dream to nightmare.

“Get out!” she shrieked, her voice cracking. “How dare you!”

Julian caught the pillow, his face twisting in annoyance. “You’re my fiancée, Lucy. You’re overreacting.”

“You touched me while I was sleeping! You’re disgusting!”

Julian loomed over her. “I came because your father sent me. And tomorrow is your twentieth birthday. When are you finally going to let me near you?”

“Never. Get out of my room.”

Julian’s ego flared. “Why? Don’t you love me?”

The question caught Lucy off guard. Her silence spoke volumes, and the name that anchored her heart was Brian, not Julian. Tears welled in her eyes.

Julian softened, then hardened again. “I planned a private birthday flight to Atlanta. My family owns the jets, the connections, the power. You have a life of luxury waiting for you.”

“To hell with your jets,” she snapped. “I don’t need you.”

The temperature in the room plummeted. Julian’s eyes turned cold, stripped of any pretense of affection.

“You were sold to my family long ago, Lucy,” he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, flat tone. “When it’s time to move into my mansion, nothing will stop it.”

The weight of her father’s contract hung over her like a guillotine blade, but looking at Julian, she realized he was the one holding the rope. Her future felt less like a life and more like a sentence.

Lucy stared at him, breathless and horrified. “You’re insane.”

Julian didn't blink. He turned and slammed the door, the sound echoing like a final verdict. Lucy sat frozen, left trembling in the sudden, suffocating silence of her room