Contracted Obsession

Chapter 4: Shadows in the Garage

The private elevator doors opened into the underground parking level with a soft chime that felt way too loud.

Nash’s hand was still wrapped around my wrist — warm, steady, and impossible to shake off. His grip wasn’t bruising, but it said everything: You’re not going anywhere without me.

I yanked anyway. “Let go. I need to call Mia right now.”

“Already handled,” he said, voice low and calm like we were discussing the weather. He pulled me forward into the dimly lit garage. Rows of sleek black cars gleamed under the overhead lights. His shoes clicked against the concrete with purpose.

I matched his pace even though my soaked sneakers squeaked. “Handled how? You said those men aren’t yours.”

“They’re not.” He didn’t look at me. His eyes scanned the shadows between the vehicles. “Which makes them a problem.”

My stomach tightened. The USB drive pressed against my thigh in my pocket like a guilty secret. I’d signed that contract to protect Mia, not drag her deeper into whatever hell Nash Vale ruled.

A black SUV waited near the exit ramp, engine running quietly. A driver stood beside it, posture straight, eyes alert.

Nash guided me toward it. “Get in.”

I planted my feet. “Tell me what’s happening first.”

He stopped and turned to face me fully. The garage lights cast sharp shadows across his face, highlighting the hard line of his jaw and the way his dark eyes locked onto mine without mercy. He stepped closer, crowding my space until the scent of his cologne — clean, expensive, with something darker underneath — filled my lungs.

“You signed the paper,” he murmured, thumb brushing once over the inside of my wrist where my pulse raced. “That means your problems are my problems now. Including whoever’s stupid enough to park outside your sister’s dorm.”

I searched his face for any c***k in that control. Nothing. Just cool calculation mixed with something sharper. Like the idea of someone else threatening what he’d just claimed pissed him off.

Before I could push back, tires screeched faintly from the far end of the garage.

Nash’s head snapped toward the sound. In one smooth motion, he shoved me behind him, his body becoming a solid wall between me and whatever was coming.

“Stay,” he ordered, voice dropping to a dangerous quiet.

Two men stepped out from between parked cars — not the collectors from the alley. These ones wore dark jackets, faces half-hidden. One had his hand inside his coat.

Nash didn’t flinch. He simply tilted his head and said, almost conversationally, “You’re on private property. Leave.”

The taller man smirked. “Vale. We have a message from Mr. Voss. The girl’s file isn’t yours to take. Hand her over and we walk.”

My blood ran cold. Voss? I’d heard that name whispered in the same circles as my father’s death — another player in the shadows Nash ruled.

Nash’s shoulders shifted, but his voice stayed even. “She’s already mine. Tell Voss if he wants a conversation, he calls me directly. Touch what belongs to me and I’ll burn his entire operation to the ground.”

The words sent a chill racing down my spine. Not because of the threat — but because of how casually he said belongs to me.

The second man pulled his hand out. Metal glinted.

Nash moved faster than I could track.

He lunged forward, one sharp strike to the wrist that sent the gun clattering across the concrete. A second move had the first man doubled over, gasping. Nash’s movements were precise, controlled, like violence was just another tool he used without emotion.

The driver from the SUV was suddenly beside me, shielding me with his body.

I couldn’t look away from Nash.

He straightened, adjusting his cuff as if he’d only brushed lint off his sleeve. The two men were on the ground, breathing hard but alive.

Nash crouched beside the taller one and spoke so quietly I almost missed it. “Tell Voss the debt is cleared. Ava Sinclair is off-limits. Permanently.”

He stood and walked back to me like nothing had happened.

His eyes found mine. Dark. Intense. That same almost-smile ghosted across his lips when he saw the way I was staring.

“Still think you don’t need my protection?” he asked softly.

I swallowed, throat dry. My heart hammered so hard I felt it in my fingertips.

He reached out and tucked a damp strand of hair behind my ear, the touch surprisingly gentle after what I’d just witnessed.

“Get in the car, Ava. We’re going to the penthouse. And tomorrow…” His gaze dropped to my mouth for a heartbeat. “We start figuring out exactly how much trouble you’re really worth.”

I slid into the back seat on shaky legs.

As the SUV pulled away, I glanced back through the tinted window.

The two men were already scrambling to their feet, but Nash stood watching us leave, hands in his pockets, looking every bit the king who had just reminded everyone who owned the board.

And I was now the piece he refused to lose.