The Don's Deadliest Obsession

Nerrisa’s POV

I have never been this embarrassed in my life.

Apparently, I fainted from hunger.

Hunger.

Not poison, not exhaustion or some dramatic medical condition worthy of a hospital bed.

Hunger.

Wonderful.

Absolutely humiliating.

And now I am sitting at the dining table while Linda watches me eat like I am a stubborn five-year-old who needs supervision.

”Slowly, child.”

”I’m eating.” ℯℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

”You are swallowing too quickly.”

I stop chewing and stare at her. She stares right back.

I sigh and continue eating.

My plate is practically empty.

Unfortunately, Linda seems determined to make sure there isn’t a single grain of rice left on it.

”Ye need your strength.”

”I have enough strength.”

”Ye fainted yesterday.”

”I am aware.”

”Because ye did not eat.”

”I am also aware of that.”

She gives me a look.

I put another spoonful into my mouth.

There.

Happy?

Apparently not.

She waits until I finish it before nodding approvingly.

I lean back in my chair.

”I’m full.”

”Finish the rest.”

I look down at the tiny amount remaining.

”You have got to be kidding me.”

”Eat.”

I sigh dramatically and pick up my fork.

Two minutes later, I clear the plate. I put my fork down and lean back, rubbing my stomach.

”I am stuffed.”

Linda finally smiles.

”Good.”

She takes my plate.

I watch her disappear toward the kitchen and shake my head.

The moment she is gone, I stand.

My stomach feels like I swallowed an entire roast pig.

I’m definitely not eating again for the next twelve hours.

”Good day, ma’am.”

I nearly jump out of my skin.

I turn around to find Ezekiel stands a few feet away.

My bodyguard.

”Yes.”

I glance toward the windows. It is definitely daytime.

After I fainted yesterday, apparently I slept straight through the night.

I don’t even remember being carried upstairs.

The last thing I remember is looking at Lysander...then nothing.

I woke up this morning in my bed with a pounding headache and an overwhelming sense of embarrassment.

”Good day, Ezekiel. How can I help you?”

”The boss asked me to bring you to him.”

Like I’m some item that has been ordered for collection.

”Fine.”

I gesture toward the hallway.

”Lead the way.”

He turns and starts walking.

I follow.

But this time, every step makes my instincts tighten. I remember the last time I followed someone through these halls.

My fingers unconsciously brush my neck.

The bruises have faded slightly, but I can still feel them.

I don’t like walking behind Ezekiel, I don’t like not knowing exactly where we are going.

So I keep my eyes moving.

Looking at every corner, every door and hallway.

I memorize them.

Eventually, we reach the far end of the hallway.

Ezekiel stops in front of a large wooden door and knocks twice.

A voice comes from inside.

”Come in.”

Ezekiel opens the door and I step inside.

Then I stop.

Lysander’s office.....I didn’t realize he had an office this far away from the main part of the house.

The room is enormous.

Dark wood dominates the walls. A large desk sits near the windows, covered with neatly arranged documents and a laptop. Bookshelves stretch from floor to ceiling, filled with thick folders and books I doubt were purchased for decoration.

The room smells faintly of leather and something distinctly masculine.

Lysander sits behind the desk.

He looks up at me then he gestures toward the chair opposite him.

”Sit.”

I do.

Ezekiel remains by the door.

Lysander looks at him.

”You can leave.”

Ezekiel nods.

”Yes, boss.”

He steps outside and closes the door behind him.

Silence settles between us.

Lysander leans back in his chair, his expression is different from yesterday.

Less angry.

”I want to apologize for what happened yesterday.”

I blink.

He continues.

”I understand I was aggressive.”

I nod.

”I accept your apology.”

His jaw tightens slightly. Showing it was hard for him to do that.

”Thank you.”

He looks at me for several seconds.

”Please tell me who hurt you.”

I stare at him.

”I just want to help.”

”I don’t know him.”

”A description will do.”

I sigh.

My fingers curl together in my lap. I don’t particularly enjoy talking about what happened.

”He had a scar.”

Lysander’s attention sharpens.

”Where?”

”Across his face. It started around his jaw and went all the way up toward his forehead.”

I gesture toward my own face.

”He was huge. Bulky. Big as hell.”

Lysander’s entire expression changes. His face goes hard.

”Sebastian.”

The name comes out like a curse.

”What happened?”

I take a breath.

”I was bored yesterday.”

His eyebrow lifts.

”Naturally.”

I ignore that.

”So I decided to roam around the house. I got lost.”

”You got lost?”

”Yes.”

His mouth twitches and I glare at him.

”Don’t.”

”I said nothing.”

”You were thinking it.”

”I was.”

I roll my eyes.

”I saw Sebastian and asked him for directions.”

Lysander’s amusement disappears.

”He led me through another passage.”

I pause.

The memory crawling back.

I swallow.

”He tried to...”

The words catch and I have to clear my throat to continue.

”He tried to rape me.”

Lysander doesn’t move, not even a muscle.

”He tried to kill me afterward. He said he didn’t agree with this arrangement and that I had to pay for what my people did to his.”

The silence afterward is suffocating.

Lysander’s eyes have gone completely cold.

He reaches for his phone and simply makes a call.

”Send Sebastian to my office now.”

A pause.

”Alive.”

He ends the call. Then he places the phone on the desk.

We sit in silence.

I don’t know what he is thinking, I don’t know what he plans to do but I can feel the tension radiating from him.

Minutes pass.

Then I hear something outside.

Voices, loud voices and footsteps.

A struggle.

Someone curses.

The sound gets closer and my body stiffens when the door suddenly opens.

Two men drag Sebastian inside. He fights against them violently, twisting his shoulders and trying to break free.

”He tried to run before we caught up with him,” one of the men says.

Lysander slowly turns his attention toward Sebastian.

”So you know what you did was wrong.”

Sebastian’s breathing is heavy.

When his eyes lift they lock onto mine. The hatred in them is immediate.

Pure unfiltered hatred.

”I don’t regret it.”

My stomach tightens.

”This bitch deserves to die the same way my mother was killed.”