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Lily Evans never expected her life to change in one night. A struggling artist, she crashes an elite gala in hopes of finding an investor to support her dreams. But when a case of mistaken identity puts her in the site of Anthony Calloway, the ruthless billionaire who takes what he wants, walking away becomes impossible.
He thinks she's an escort. She thinks he's a nightmare wrapped in a dangerously handsome package.
But when Anthony offers her a deal--one year has his, in exchange for everything she ever wanted--Lily is forced to decide: resist the man who ignite something forbidden inside her or step into his world knowing there's no turning back.
His's possessive, his's obsessive. And now, he's vowed to make her his.
But in a game of power and passion, who will truely end up owning the other?

Possessive vows: The Billionaire's Obsession

Lily's pulse pounded in her ears, drowning out the soft hum of violin music in the background. She needed to correct his mistake—to tell him she wasn't the kind of woman he thought she was.

But her words tangled on her tongue as Anthony Calloway tilted his head, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. He was toying with her, testing her reaction.

"I—" she started, but his hand closed around her wrist, gentle yet firm. His touch sent a current through her veins, an unspoken warning that escape wouldn't be easy.

"You don't have to pretend," he said smoothly, his voice carrying the unmistakable weight of authority. "I know exactly what you're here for."

Her breath hitched. "I doubt that."

His smirk deepened, as if he enjoyed her defiance. "Really?" His thumb traced a slow, deliberate circle against the inside of her wrist, making her stomach tighten. "You walk into my world, wearing that dress, looking like a goddamn dream, and expect me to believe you didn't come here for me?"

Heat rushed to her cheeks, but anger flared just as fast.

She yanked her hand back, forcing steel into her spine. "Believe whatever you want, Mr. Calloway. But I'm not for sale."

Something flickered in his gaze—something dark, unreadable.

Lily's fingers curled into fists. "What's so funny?"

He took a slow sip of his whiskey, watching her over the rim of his glass. "You," he murmured. "You're the most interesting thing in this entire room."

Her stomach did an involuntary flip, but she ignored it. She wasn't here for games. She had a goal.

Straightening her shoulders, she said, "I was actually looking for an investor. If you'll excuse me—"

His words were casual, but his tone was anything but.

When she met his gaze, there was no trace of humor left. Only raw, undeniable intensity.

"I don't make investments without guarantees," he continued, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming. "So here's my offer, sweetheart. One year. Be mine. And in return, I'll give you everything you've ever wanted."

But as she stared into his dark, unreadable eyes, she realized the terrifying truth.

Anthony Calloway never said anything he didn't mean.

Chapter 2: A Dangerous Preposition