The Billionaire’s Obsession

Chapter 7

NICHOLAS' POV

Her eyes, wide and bewildered, were a mirror of the carefully constructed world I was systematically taking apart. "What I will be doing today," she echoed, her voice barely a whisper. The defiance from last night, the sharp wit, it was all still there, but now it was laced with a delicious undercurrent of fear. Good. Fear was a powerful motivator.

"Precisely," I confirmed, pushing off the desk and walking towards her. She instinctively retreated a step, her gaze tracking my every move. "No more hide-and-seek in the hallowed halls of academia, Miranda. No more pretending you're just another student with a penchant for dead poets."

I watched her swallow, her throat working. "What do you want?" she asked again, her voice a little stronger this time. The question was raw, desperate.

"Everything," I replied, the word hanging in the air between us. "Starting with your full attention." I stopped in front of her, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off my skin. Her pupils dilated, a tell-tale sign of her body's response, even as her mind rebelled. "You're going to spend the day here. With me."

"And do what?" Her chin tilted up again, that tiny, infuriating act of rebellion.

A slow smile spread across my face. "Learn. Observe. And perhaps," I leaned in, lowering my voice, "understand what it truly means to be indisposed."

I watched the color drain from her face. She was intelligent enough to grasp the implication, the sheer breadth of what I was offering—or rather, imposing. It wasn't just about her presence; it was about her immersion into my world, a world where her trust funds and academic achievements were utterly meaningless.

"I have no interest in your 'world'," she spat, her voice laced with venom. "I want nothing to do with... whatever this is." She gestured around the opulent room, her hand shaking slightly.

"Oh, but you do," I countered, my voice soft but firm. "You just don't know it yet. You're shattered, Miranda. Broken by a betrayal that revealed the fragile illusion of your life. And you're curious. That's why you didn't run last night when you had the chance. That's why you let me touch you, let me pull you closer."

Her eyes flashed, a spark of pure fury. "I was drunk! I was... I was confused!"

"Were you?" I challenged, stepping even closer, until the tips of our shoes almost touched. "Or were you finally seeing the truth? That the 'safe' world you built was a lie, and the darkness you fear is the only place where anything real exists?"

I reached out, taking her chin gently between my thumb and forefinger. Her skin was warm, delicate. "You're a woman of razor-sharp intellect, Miranda. Don't insult yourself by denying what your instincts are screaming at you. You crave something beyond the mundane. Something dangerous. Something real."

Her breath hitched, and for a fleeting moment, I saw a flicker of something raw and unburdened in her eyes—not fear, but a dawning realization. The truth, stripped bare, was often ugly, but it was also undeniably potent.

"My driver will bring up some clothes for you," I said, releasing her chin. "And then, you'll join me for breakfast. Consider it your first lesson in Stephens Enterprises. We start early."

I turned, heading for the double doors that led to the corridor. "Don't try anything foolish, Miranda," I added, without looking back. "There are eyes everywhere. And trust me, you don't want to see what happens when I'm inconvenienced."

The click of the door closing echoed in the sudden silence, leaving her alone in the vast room. I had given her a choice, or rather, the illusion of one. Fight me, or embrace the darkness. And deep down, I knew what she would choose. The unraveling had only just begun.