Page 92 of Shattered Obsession

Damian taught her that.

He conditioned her to swallow panic.

To stay quiet.

To freeze.

My jaw clenches so tight I taste blood.

The guys probably think I’m hungover or pissed about a car part. None of them know there’s a war happening in my chest. None of them know that if anything happens to her, I will burn the entire world down.

My phone buzzes once. A notification from an app, nothing relevant.

I swear under my breath.

If she ever needs me and I’m not there, I will never forgive myself.

Thalia once asked me why I always park facing out of the apartment.

“Quick escape,” I joked.

Truth is, I’m always preparing.

Always one second away from sprinting toward danger.

When you love someone who’s survived hell, you learn to live on the edge of fight-or-flight right alongside them.

She thinks she’s the broken one. But the truth? Loving her broke me open too.

Made me raw.

Made me fierce.

Made me understand what it means to be willing to burn the whole world down just to keep one person breathing.

I grab my phone again, half-hoping for a message, half-dreading one. Nothing. No missed calls. The relief and fear twist in my chest like a knife. I know I can’t stay away much longer. If I keep fooling myself into thinking I can balance work and protect her from a predator who ignores all rules, I’m lying. Every minute I’m not with her, Damian has the upper hand. I tuck the phone into my pocket, jaw clenched tight, and as I glance at the unfinished job in front of me, I’m already aware that I won’t last the day.

She’s all that truly matters in this chaotic swirl of my life. The job, the money, the rest of the world all pale in comparison to her. If Damian wants to keep pushing, I’ll push back harder. If he wants war, then that’s exactly what he’ll get. Love makes you soft, until it doesn’t.

Until the thing you love is threatened.

Then love becomes a weapon sharper than rage.

I never believed in fate or destiny or any of that poetic shit until Thalia showed up and cracked open something in me I didn’t know existed.

But Damian?

He’s tapping on the part of me that doesn’t have a conscience.

So, if he wants chaos, he picked the right fucking opponent.

-Damian-

They still think this is a game.

There’s a notebook on the passenger seat beside me. Thalia’s name on every page. Dates. Times. Patterns.

Precise. Clinical.