My maddest obsession

It's Misty

5th December 2023 | 40 Views

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44170d7bed970429f458af9a3e61cbf1 CHAPTER ONE



The clock’s ticks and tocks filled the space between us. With warm

colors and a variety of seating, the room was supposed to be comfortable.

Too bad the atmosphere hadn’t gotten the memo; the air was thick and

cloying, as though every lie told here had been trapped for eternity.

My eyes narrowed as Kyle Sheets’ wink from yesterday replayed in my

mind. He’d been through the same process—though, different accusation—

and had somehow bullshitted his way out of having hentai on his work

computer. I was a living, breathing lie, but the idea of being lumped into the

same category as that bastard rubbed me the wrong way. He wore sneakers

with his suits, for fuck’s sake.

Running a thoughtful hand across my jaw, I admitted the truth.

“I have an addictive personality.”

Sasha Taylor Ph.D. couldn’t stop a spark of surprise from lighting in her

eyes, and to hide the human reaction, she dropped her attention to my file

resting on her lap. The blonde’s pantsuit didn’t hold a wrinkle. She’d gone

to Yale and was from old money. The thirty-one-year-old was everything I

looked for in a woman: intelligent, beautiful, classy.

“Alcohol?” she asked.

I gave my head a shake.


Might’ve been easier.



Another shake, but, this time, I smiled.

Her eyes fell to my lips, and she swallowed and glanced away. “We’ll

come back to this in a moment.” She paused. “You do understand why

you’re here?”

I gave her a blank look.

Her gaze wavered. “Yes, of course you do. Does . . . the incident have to

do with your . . . addictive personality?”

I focused my stare on her fire-engine red heels and suddenly hated

myself for not having a lesser addiction, like hentai. I’d take that over the

other mess any day of the week.

It was public, Allister. Go through the motions, that’s all I can do.

The words that had fucked me over.

I wasn’t a good man, and I worked for even worse. However, I’d

learned at too young of an age that the world wasn’t made up of black and

white. Sometimes, one became so tainted they couldn’t get back to the light,

and other times, the dark just felt right. Even if the latter didn’t apply to me,

I would never jeopardize what I had built. I’d worked too hard to get here to

ever give it up for a woman. Especially one who dressed like Britney

Spears’ and Kurt Cobain’s love child.

“No,” I lied.

If I was completely honest, I’d be committed within the hour, or rather,

the Bureau would make Sasha Taylor disappear, never to be heard from


“Some believe it was over a woman,” she supplied tentatively.

I raised a brow. “Are you some, Sasha?”


“Why not?”

“You seem too . . . levelheaded to behave in such a way over a woman.”

Cold. She meant cold.

She was right—in the usual case, anyway—but there was nothing usual

about the irritating situation that had put me here. I had a close relationship

with the cold, in the most literal sense; now, however, I felt the furthest

from it. A fire burned in my chest, licking at the edges of what soul I had


Sasha shifted in her seat, crossing one leg over the other. “Back to this

addictive personality . . . do you often give in to whatever it is that you


Just the idea that I could tasted sweet, doubled the pace of my heart,

made me feel hot and edgy. I hated the woman for making my life hell for

years, but damn, if I didn’t want to touch her, to fuck the memory of every

other man out of her mind until she was half as obsessed as I was, until

she’d never forget my name again for the rest of her life.

I ran my tongue across my teeth and pushed the feeling down, though

the tension in my body didn’t release. “Never.”

“Why not?”

My gaze held hers. “Because then it will win.”

“And you don’t like to lose?” Her words ended on a breathless note

It's Misty



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