The Obsession (Filthy Rich Americans Book 2) Read online

  Table of Contents

  TITLE PAGE

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  OTHER BOOKS BY NIKKI SLOANE

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  COPYRIGHT

  ONE

  MACALISTER HALE’S EYES WERE LIQUID NITROGEN.

  They were so cold, they threatened to burn me in an instant, a flash freeze that would turn my skin white and cause blisters to lift on the surface.

  I stared up at the powerful man looming over me, who had one hand on each of the armrests of my chair, and I held in a painful breath. There wasn’t any air left in the library or the space between us. He’d used it all when he’d trapped me beneath his inescapable gaze.

  Macalister’s lips were only a few inches from mine, and for one terrifying moment it seemed like he was considering kissing me. He’d do it abruptly and without permission, claiming my mouth like it belonged to him.

  Like I was his prize.

  Was I?

  He’d just bought me from his son for the bargain-basement price of one hundred thousand shares. At least ten million dollars, and likely more. A roiling sea swelled and churned in the pit of my stomach. Royce had sealed the deal with a gentlemanly handshake. A business transaction agreed upon and completed. And then he’d fled the library without even a glance in my direction.

  I don’t owe you anything, he’d said.

  Maybe it was true.

  All I could feel was the cut of his betrayal, sharp and excruciating and deep to the bone. A nasty voice inside my head hissed I should have seen it coming. Betrayal was a staple in the myths I adored, and the mortals always suffered at the hands of the gods. A heavy, expensive ring gleamed on my finger, but my engagement to Royce meant nothing. Marrying him would make me a Hale in name—not an immortal like everyone else in his family.

  It just made me a target. A pawn in the game between father and son.

  Rather than lower his mouth to mine, Macalister peeled his lips back into a joyless smile. “Marist, you shouldn’t find this so upsetting. As I’ve come to understand, you’re a practical girl, and I warned you Royce would sell you out the first chance he got.”

  I repeated his understated word like it had been punched from my center. “Upsetting?” I wanted to sound strong, but my voice went hollow. “That’s . . . not the word I’d use for what just happened.”

  He reminded me vaguely of Dylan McDermott. He was dark and intense, and looked much younger than fifty-two. His gaze scraped over my face until it settled on my lips. Only this time, it was clear he wasn’t thinking about kissing me. Now he was simply curious about the words I’d produced. He lifted an eyebrow as he evaluated me. “Oh? How would you describe it?”

  Unbearable.

  I was Ariande, the maiden who’d saved the hero Theseus from the Minotaur’s labyrinth, only to be dumped on an island and left to die when I wasn’t of any further use.

  I swallowed the lump that clogged my throat, blocking the word from escaping. When I didn’t say anything, victory flashed through his expression.

  “We need to discuss what happens now.” He said it in the same dry way he dictated commands to his employees. “While you’re living in my house, there are expectations, and you will meet them.” He drew in a breath, preparing. “You’ll be respectful and courteous, and you will take any directions I give you without hesitation.”

  My heart, which was already racing painfully in my chest, chugged at a faster tempo. I’d told him he’d never own me, but it didn’t make a difference to him. He expected me to bow down to him like everyone else.

  “No,” I said.

  He was ready for that. He charged forward, driving me backward until I leaned over the back of the chair and it dug uncomfortably into my shoulder blades.

  “Do I need to remind you we have an agreement? If you’re not going to follow through on your end, then you cannot expect me to. My money may have cleared into your family’s account, but I didn’t get to where I am today by being a fool.” His expression was stone, his high cheekbones carved, and his lips chiseled into a tight line. “I haven’t removed the lien on your parents’ house.”

  The home I’d grown up in had been in my family for four generations. It was everything to my mother, and although it would be a terrible sacrifice to make, was it worth walking away now to get out from under the Hales? What if this was our only chance at escape? In the time of a single breath, I considered cutting my losses.

  But my hesitation, or my expression, must have given too much away because a sneer curled on Macalister’s lips.

  “Your parents signed over authority to their financial manager. He can divert money without their consent, including the five million you just deposited. In fact, he could move every dollar under the Northcott name. He has total control . . . and he’s my employee.”

  A strangled sob bubbled in my chest. Macalister could take everything away. I’d fought so hard to save my family from financial ruin, and yet all I’d done was trap them further. I’d given Macalister an opening, and he’d used it to take over.

  Oh, my God. I broke inside. He did own me.

  A single tear wouldn’t be contained, and it slid hotly down my cheek. He tracked the path of it with his gaze, and something suspiciously like discomfort flitted through his expression. He was ruthless, but was it possible he had a heart?

  No. Unlikely.

  It was more probable emotion made him uneasy.

  His expression shifted, and he straightened swiftly to his full height. It gave me a reprieve and just enough room to swallow a breath. I swiped the tear away.

  “You understand.” He nodded. “Good. There are other things to discuss, and I’m glad you’re not going to waste our time on a pointless power struggle. While I’m sure this is difficult for you,” he said, “I want you to know I’m doing this for your own good. Royce’s too.”

  I gawked up at him. “How is this supposed to be good for—”

  “I meant what I said.” The ice was back in his eyes. “Your infatuation with each other is dangerous to your partnership.”

  A sick, bizarre laugh threatened. I no longer knew what—or who—was the bigger danger to my relationship with Royce. It could be the Hale who currently towered over me, or the one who’d sold me out and fled the room like a coward.

  “I had to put a stop to it,” Macalister’s tone was plain, “before things went too far and you both got hurt.”

  Too late.

  But also—please.

  Like he gave a damn about our feelings. He could hide behind the excuse of wanting to protect his family’s name, but I saw this for what it really was. Macalister had been born into tremendous wealth, and it had only grown under his reign as the CEO of the Hale Banking and Holding Company.

  He had so much money, he could buy anything he wanted, and a lifetime with hardly any limits made him crave the things no dollar amount could acquire.

  Power.

  Influence.

  Status.

  And of course, control. He desired dominion over everything and everyone.

  Air stuck painfully in my lungs, making my voice tight. “Is that what this was? The stuff you said”—I could barely force the words out—�
��about wanting to pursue a relationship with me. It wasn’t real. You were only trying to make a point.”

  I held out hope even when I should have known better. When we’d danced together the night of the initiation, he’d told me he was going to have me. Like then, something dark flickered in his eyes, and it was the same as staring at Medusa’s head mounted to Athena’s shield. It turned me to stone.

  “Royce did exactly as I expected he would.” His tone was devoid of emotion as he delivered his non-answer. “Now it’s your turn. You’ll surrender your car keys to me, and I’ll have someone on my staff park your Porsche at the stables.”

  “What?”

  He folded his arms across his chest, visibly irritated I’d had the nerve to question him. “Driving is a privilege, and it’s one you haven’t earned.”

  Acid invaded my mouth, filling it with the taste of panic. If I couldn’t drive . . . “I’m not allowed to leave?”

  He scoffed. “Don’t be dramatic. You’re not a prisoner. If you need to go somewhere, I’ll approve it, and one of our drivers will take you.”

  I repeated his statement in my head and got hung up on the same spot. I’ll approve it. He was demanding control over every move I made. The strings he’d attached to his five million dollars cinched so tightly around me I couldn’t breathe.

  His focus drilled into my eyes as he waited to see how I’d react, and it took every ounce of strength I possessed not to fight or flee. I swallowed thickly. “Now?”

  He looked pleased at my reaction, or lack thereof. “Yes, Marist. Now.”

  I rose slowly from the chair to stand on my unsteady legs. The silver lining was at least I had an excuse to get the hell out of this room and away from my new owner.

  I found my backstabbing fiancé sitting on the loveseat in the bedroom Macalister had announced was mine. Royce’s hands were laced through his thick, dark hair. His eyes were hazy when his gaze snapped to me but, as he shot to his feet, urgency tightened them into focus.

  “Marist.”

  My name in his concerned voice was nearly too much.

  I did my best to ignore him and strode to my purse on the dresser. My hands shook as I dug out my keys and, even as I pretended he didn’t exist, I felt his stare on my back. It was a hot, unavoidable spotlight.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  The sharp edge of a key bit into my fingers as I clenched them in my fist, but the discomfort held me together. I put my purse down with too much force, and it thudded to the dresser with a loud, angry bang. That was the only response I was willing to give him. Like he’d done to me so many times, I walked out of the room without looking back.

  “Just wait a minute. Where are you going?” His swift footsteps announced he had chased me out into the hallway.

  I sidestepped the black cat who strolled across the corridor, but Royce must have been so focused on me, he didn’t notice until it was too late. A sound of stumbling rang out, followed by an irritated meow.

  “Goddammit, Lucifer,” he muttered. “Always in the way.”

  The devil cat slowed Royce down enough it prevented him from catching me before I ducked through the doorway.

  Macalister and the tension in the cold library were right as I’d left them. He lifted his gaze from the smartphone resting on the desktop and surveyed me clinically. He noted the keys in my hand, then his son at my side who lingered in the doorway like a bad shadow.

  “Leave them on the desk,” Macalister said, nodding toward the keys in my grip. “Something’s come up, and we’ll have to continue this tomorrow.”

  I strode forward and dropped the keys. They clattered onto the polished desktop, and although I was handing over a freedom, I was willing to do it to gain another. Now I would be released for the night, and all I wanted was to be as far away as possible from the entire Hale family.

  Since we were still under his father’s watchful eye, Royce was indifferent as I brushed past him and made my way back toward my room.

  It had a king-sized bed sheeted with a ridiculous thread count, an enormous jetted tub in the bathroom, and a closet so large it had a couch inside. Yet, no matter how fancy it looked, all I saw was my new prison.

  Was the boy who followed me a prisoner too? Or was he the warden, making sure I obeyed every rule his father placed on me?

  “Get out,” I hissed.

  Royce shook his head, and determination sprawled on his face. He had no intention of respecting my need for space, and why would he? Everything had been handed to him.

  I hated him. I hated even more how, despite everything, he still looked so appealing. And most of all I hated that I’d let this happen. I’d fallen so completely for his manipulation.

  His voice was low and urgent. “We need to talk.”

  “No.” It came from me like steel wrapped in barbed wire. “It’s too late. I wanted to talk ten minutes ago, Royce, but you shut me out.” I narrowed my eyes. “Go use your hundred thousand shares to buy someone to talk to.”

  He sighed his frustration, pushed back the sides of his suit coat, and rested his hands on his waist. His shoulders were stiff, his jaw set, and tension held his posture as rigid as a statue. He didn’t like what I’d said.

  Good.

  “I’m serious,” he said. “I’m not leaving until we have a conversation.”

  He really was the spoiled rich boy I’d believed he was last year. I stared at him critically, wanting to exaggerate every physical flaw I found and focus in on them. His eyes were too big. His cheekbones too pronounced. He wasn’t the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.

  I tried to convince myself it was true, but I was helpless.

  He was still the boy who’d made love to me in the wine cellar. The only one who I felt had seen the real me. I couldn’t reconcile the two parts of him that existed. And if those different sides of him were just a lie, and he really was the hard, indifferent man who didn’t owe me anything . . .

  God, I didn’t want to know. I couldn’t stomach it.

  He wasn’t going to leave this room? Fine. It didn’t feel like it was mine, anyway. I’d surrendered my keys to Macalister, but my legs still worked, and I used them to take me away. There came another frustrated sigh from Royce, and he caught my elbow in the hallway, pulling me to a stop, but I shook off his hold while delivering a death glare.

  It was so hushed it was nearly a whisper. He didn’t want his father to overhear. “Please.” His eyes teemed with remorse, but it had to be manufactured. “Talk to me.”

  “No.” Anger made my voice shake. “I don’t owe you anything.”

  TWO

  OMINOUS CLOUDS HOVERED OVERHEAD like dark smoke, but I ignored the approaching storm, barreled out the back door, and marched across the stone patio. My shoes pounded down the outdoor staircase as I hurried toward the lawn and the hedge maze looming beyond.

  I was lost. I needed to be lost in every sense of the word.

  Harsh wind whipped through the rose garden and splashed my long, dark hair into my face. I’d been forced to color over the green hue I loved, but my snakes were still there, simply concealed under brown hair dye. Medusa simmered in my blood. She’d lain dormant until the initiation, and now she raged in the marrow of my bones.

  Quiet relief swept through me once I was nestled in the narrow passage between the manicured walls of evergreen. With the impending storm, it was dark out, and the landscape lighting that dotted the path couldn’t seem to penetrate the evening shadows. I stumbled blindly deeper into the maze with no destination, my feet sending pebbles skittering over each other.

  I didn’t see a flash of lightning. It was only the growling moan of thunder that made me aware of its existence. Maybe Macalister really was Zeus, and this thunderstorm was what had pulled him abruptly away. He was on Mount Olympus, hurling lightning bolts down at the mortals below.

  Cold raindrops pricked at my skin, but I pressed on.

  I’d never actually solved the maze before, but right now I
had no desire to do so. As soon as I’d locked myself in amongst the tall hedges and the marble statues, everything outside of this labyrinth ceased to exist. It kept the fissures in my heart from widening and splitting me in two. The hurt of Royce’s betrayal couldn’t find me in here.

  The clouds darkened. Rain pelted down, stinging and unforgiving. Lightning burst from the sky in a jagged slash, and more thunder followed right on its heels. Only this time it wasn’t a low rumble, but a sharp, hateful crack. Like the sound of a slap across a face, magnified a million percent.

  I shouldn’t be out here, but where the hell was I supposed to go? Back to the house where I couldn’t trust anyone? Calling my family wasn’t an option. Macalister would take back his deal and his money, and then he’d come after us in retribution. I’d be left with even less than I’d started with.

  I’d come much too far to turn back.

  The wind swirled around me with unease. It propelled me along the path, ushering me toward the exit. Like it knew I shouldn’t stay.

  Or . . . perhaps not.

  I wiped the rain from my eyes and stared at the decorative urn before me, surrounded by hedges on three sides. A dead end. There were statues at some of the ends, and urns at the others. This one looked like the rest. Even if I wasn’t disoriented, I’d have no idea where I was.

  Lightning lit everything in unsettling white light for a sliver of a moment. The booming thunder seemed to anger the wind. It made the hedges come alive and undulate around me. They shook their disapproving branches at me, wagging their fingers at the stupid Northcott girl who’d nearly fallen in love with the prince of lies.

  I shuffled along the path as fast as I could. The heavy, frigid rain soaked my clothes and weighed me down. I thought I was headed in the right direction until I turned a corner and lurched into the opening at the center of the maze. It was pouring down so hard now I couldn’t tell if the tiered fountain at the center was even running.

  I pressed my lips together to stop my bottom lip from quivering. I’d achieved my goal of losing myself, but I hadn’t expected to feel so scared and alone. I lifted my gaze to the sky, blinking rapidly against the torrents of rain, and winced as another bolt of lightning ripped from the dark clouds. I pushed back a drenched lock of my hair, slinging away water as I stared at the fountain.