Chapter 269: What’s Your Definition of Obsession?

Holly’s POV

Regardless of how I felt inside, outside I channeled every ounce of nonchalance I had left.

I shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know what I want with you anymore. I used to like you… but not anymore. So if you want me, you’re gonna have to work for it. Hard.”

I glanced at the flowers. “Because of the effort, I’ll accept the bouquet. Just because they’re pretty.”

I glanced at the box. “And the necklace… because it’s classy.”

He smiled…slow, soft, predatory…like he had already gotten what he wanted.

“I like a good challenge.” He raised both hands in mock surrender. “I’ll make you like me again in no time.”

Then he reached into the Tiffany box and lifted the necklace.

The tiny diamond heartbeat caught every ray of sunlight streaming through the windows.

He stepped behind me.

I felt his breath on my neck before his fingers did.

He gathered my hair gently, swept it over one shoulder. The backs of his knuckles brushed the sensitive skin at my nape and I almost moaned.

He leaned in, lips ghosting the shell of my ear. “Hold still, baby.”

The chain was cool against my overheated skin. His fingers worked the clasp with maddening patience. Every tiny click felt like foreplay.

When the clasp finally caught, he didn’t step back.

Instead he pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the side of my throat…right over my racing pulse.

I melted. Straight-up marshmallow. Legs trembling, core throbbing, brain offline.

He lingered there, lips brushing, tongue flicking just once against my skin.

I felt like I was going to combust.

Then—

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

The door.

We both froze.

Mrs. Ramirez’s voice floated through. “Mr. Hunt? The morning meeting is in ten. Everyone’s waiting.”

I jerked away like I’d been electrocuted.

David exhaled through his nose, looking like he wanted to murder someone.

I spun toward him, cheeks flaming, necklace suddenly feeling like a brand against my skin.

Inside my head, final chaotic thought of the morning:

Well, fuck me sideways.

He just collared me with diamonds and kissed my neck like he was about to eat me alive, and now I have to sit through a PowerPoint about quarterly projections while everyone stares at the hickey he almost gave me.

This man is going to ruin me.

And the funny part? I’m going to let him.

But not today. Today I still have dignity.

Barely.

Minutes later:

The conference room smelled like fresh coffee, printer ink, and the faint ghost of last night’s rosé regret.

I walked in five minutes early…because showing up late after the desk-moving stunt would’ve looked like I was hiding. I wasn’t hiding. I was strategizing.

My necklace felt like a tiny, glittering landmine against my collarbone. Every time it shifted, I remembered David’s mouth on my neck, the way his fingers had lingered at the clasp like he was claiming territory. And then the knock. And then nothing. Just the cold slap of reality.

Inside my head it was a full circus.

Okay, Holly. Game plan. He confesses he’s obsessed, collars you in diamonds, almost kisses your neck like a vampire with manners, and then… crickets. Now we’re in professional mode? Fine. Two can play at hot-and-cold. I’m about to make this man suffer in the most corporate way possible.

I slid into my usual seat…third from the head of the table, close enough to David to smell his cologne, far enough to pretend I didn’t notice him watching me like I owed him money.

He was already there, sleeves still rolled, jaw tight, looking like he’d chewed glass for breakfast. Norman, our co-CEO and the only person who could make David look relaxed by comparison, was at the other end of the table flipping through a tablet, humming some off-key jazz tune like we weren’t all about to walk into a pressure cooker.

Everyone else trickled in. The usual suspects: marketing, finance, legal, the two interns who still thought “synergy” was a personality trait.

Norman cleared his throat. “Alright, people. Let’s get this started. We’re not chasing deals anymore. Deals are chasing us. We’ve got three major contracts on the table…two seven-figure, one that could hit eight if we don’t fuck it up. No slackers. No excuses. We execute or we get eaten. Questions before we dive in?”

Silence.

Then David spoke. Voice flat and lethal. “Holly.”

Holly? My head snapped up.

He didn’t look at me. He was staring at the agenda like it had personally offended him.

“Your projections for Q3 client retention. They’re soft. Explain.”

I blinked. “They’re not soft. They’re conservative. Retention dips when morale dips. I factored in a 4% buffer.”

“Four percent is lazy math,” he snapped. “Redo them. Hard numbers. No buffers. I want them on my desk by noon.”

My mouth opened and closed seconds later.

Inside: ‘Bitch, you moved my desk into your office this morning and told me you want to fuck me on every surface in this building. And now you’re nitpicking my spreadsheets like I’m a temp?’

Norman raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

The meeting rolled on. David was brutal. Not just to me. To everyone. He tore apart the marketing deck, questioned finance’s burn rate, and told legal staff that their contract language was “word salad written by someone afraid of commitment.”

But every time he circled back to me, it felt personal.

“Holly, your notes on the Henderson pitch. Where’s the competitive analysis?”

“I emailed it to you yesterday afternoon.”

“Resend it. I don’t remember seeing it.”

I know you saw it. You replied with a thumbs-up emoji at 02:47 p.m. You absolute psycho.

He wasn’t acting like someone who just begged for a chance to make me his. In fact, he seemed like a totally different person.

Then came the moment that lit the fuse.

We were on break…coffee refill, people stretching…when Marissa from social leaned over the table with a shit-eating grin.

“Holly, girl, you must be missing your sweet boyfriend Tyler already.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Don’t worry, closing time’s in eight hours. You’ll get your cuddle time.”

Amber laughed. “She’s not wrong.”

A couple others chuckled. Jenna from finance chimed in, “Y’all were cute last night. The way he kept his eyes on you? Goals.”

Someone else: “I ship it. Holly and Tyler, power couple of the city.”

I felt the temperature in the room drop ten degrees as I noticed David staring straight at me.

He didn’t say a word. He just went still.

Then he stood up. Slowly. Like a predator deciding which limb to remove first.

When he spoke, his voice was quiet. Too quiet.

“Back to work. Now.”

No one argued.

The second half of the meeting was a bloodbath.

He grilled me on every single slide. Made me walk through the retention model line by line while the rest of the room squirmed in sympathetic silence. When I hesitated on one assumption, he cut me off.

“‘Probably’ isn’t a number, Holly. Give me facts or give me silence.”

I’ll rather give you silence you sick bastard!

Norman finally intervened. “David, ease up. We’re all on the same team.”

David’s eyes never left mine. “Are we?”

I stared right back, biting the inside of my cheeks to stop myself from giving him a piece of my mind.

Inside my head: Oh, you want to play? Fine. You confessed this morning that I’m the air you breathe, and now you’re treating me like I’m the intern who forgot to refill the printer. If this is your idea of “showing” me five reasons to choose you over Tyler… buddy, you’re doing a terrible fucking job.

The meeting ended at 11:32.

People scattered like roaches when the lights came on.

I stayed in my seat.

David stayed too.

Norman looked between us, sighed like a man who’d seen too many soap operas, and left without a word.

The door clicked shut.

Silence.

David leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled.

“You’re angry,” he said. Not a question.

I crossed my arms. “You think?”

“I was hard on you.”

“Understatement of the century.”

He exhaled. “I heard them call you and Tyler a power couple. I’m sorry that I lost control. I was simply jealous.”

“So you decided to publicly humiliate me instead of, I don’t know, acting like a grown man?”

“I wasn’t trying to humiliate you.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

He stood up, walked around the table until he was right in front of me. Close enough that I had to tilt my head back.

“I’m not good at this,” he said, voice rough. “I’ve spent years keeping everything locked down. You crack me open, and suddenly I don’t know how to handle it. I saw him looking at you like you’re his yesterday, and hearing them talk about how good both of you looked, I wanted to break something.”

I stood up too. We were inches apart.

“Then maybe stop breaking my confidence in front of the entire team and start acting like the man who put a diamond heartbeat around my neck this morning.”

His eyes darkened.

“I’m trying, Holly. Badly. But I’m trying.”

I stepped closer. “Try harder. Because right now? If this is how you show a girl you’re obsessed with her, you’re giving me every reason to stick with Tyler.”

He flinched. Just barely.

Then he reached out, fingers brushing the necklace at my throat.

“I’m not losing you to him,” he said quietly. “I’ll fix it.”

I didn’t pull away.

Inside: Oh, you’re gonna fix it? Good. Because I’m about to make you work for every single inch of this. You want me? Earn it. I’m done being the one chasing.

I stepped back, grabbed my tablet, and walked toward the door.

“Fix it quietly,” I said over my shoulder. “And maybe next time you feel like being an asshole, remember who’s wearing your necklace.”

I didn’t look back.

But I felt his eyes on me the entire way out.

You want me? Then suffer a little.

I’ve been doing it for years.

Your turn.