Bound by Obsession

–Laura–

The humidity was familiar—almost the same as back home in the Philippines. Tropical air clung to my skin, warm and thick, but somehow it felt different here. From what I remembered, Hawaii was breathtaking, vibrant, serene, a place humming with life and soul. I couldn't see it now, but I could feel it in the air. Damon said he rented a private island, and judging by the stillness and silence around us, I believed it. A place like this must cost a fortune. Then again, Damon could afford anything. He's not just wealthy—he's powerful. The heir of an empire.

"You look so beautiful," Laura murmured, her voice cracking. Was she crying?

"Are you crying?" I asked gently.

"No," she sniffled, and then admitted, "I'm just happy. If Mom could see you right now… she'd be so proud."

Her words tightened something in my chest. Mom always said to marry for love. She wanted me to be with someone who truly cherished me. But love? That emotion never came to me easily. I chose practicality over passion. Marrying into the enemy's family—Damon's family—was a strategic decision. Dangerous, but smart.

If I stayed with Damon, there was a twenty percent chance I'd die. With the Knox family? That chance jumped to eighty. Cold calculations, but that's how I survived.

"Where are we, again?" I asked.

"Niʻihau," Laura replied. "Damon rented the whole island. And the mansion. No interruptions allowed." She giggled softly.

I gave a wry smile. That sounds like him—possessive, controlling, meticulous. Always keeping me in his grasp, ensuring the world couldn't touch me unless he allowed it.

Even though Damon stayed close to me, I wouldn't allow myself to love him. Not really. This marriage was purely transactional for me. I didn't care what he felt, so long as he obeyed. And he always did.

"By the way, he almost kidnapped the chef from that party the other night. Apparently, the same guy's been preparing our meals."

"I liked the dessert he made," I said thoughtfully.

"He's cooking the entire menu for your wedding. From starters to dessert," Laura chuckled as she continued curling my hair. "Damon's obsessed with you, Liv. 'Love' isn't even a strong enough word. He's absolutely crazy about you."

"I know," I replied with a slow, knowing smirk. "That's why I chose him. He'll do anything I want."

"Exactly."

I reached down, fingertips grazing the soft silk of my gown. I let my hands explore the intricate lace embroidery. From the texture, I imagined an off-shoulder design, a full skirt cascading around me. The front was split high enough for movement. My fingers moved up to the bodice, pausing at the deep V-line that plunged between my breasts.

"This is... very low," I noted.

"What's there to hide? You and Damon already did it—twice?" Laura teased, her grin clear in her tone.

"I was drunk. I barely remember. And the first time... I chose to sleep with him. Better than getting assaulted by three strangers."

"About that—Damon's still keeping tabs on those men. And yeah... it's confirmed. Carrie and our aunt set you up."

"I wish I could see them suffer," I said quietly.

"Me too," she whispered.

A familiar voice called out then. "Oh hey, beautiful!"

It was Kai.

"I'll be your temporary photographer and videographer," he said brightly. "My brother and sister are helping with the setup."

"Thank you," I said. "But the photos… they can't be leaked."

"You have my word," Kai assured me.

Kai had always been around Damon. When we were teens, Damon tormented me with endless pranks and teasing—Kai was always the one to apologize afterward. Damon the troublemaker… Kai the peacemaker. Though honestly, I always wondered if that was just a role he played.

I chose not to wear shoes.

I wanted to feel everything. The warmth of the sand, the delicate drag of silk from my gown as it trailed behind me. Music floated in the air—a romantic duet of cello and violin. From the sound, it was a live performance. Elegant. Raw. Honest.

I walked slowly, carefully. I couldn't see the soft sand beneath me, but I imagined it—golden, sunlit, sparkling. I wasn't sure if it was still afternoon or if the sun had already begun to set, but the warmth on my skin told me it wasn't gone just yet.

Despite everything—the loveless marriage, the uncertainty—this moment felt… right. The music, the hush of the ocean waves, the breeze gently brushing my skin. For the first time in a long time, I felt peace. I let myself breathe it in.

I didn't count the steps, but I stopped when I felt the sand shift under someone else's weight nearby. Damon. I could feel him even before his hand touched mine. He took the bouquet gently from my grasp and then, without a word, swept me off my feet.

I gasped softly, feeling a plush carpet beneath me.

"We don't have much time, my dear," he murmured, pressing a kiss to my hand.

The priest began speaking, his voice rich with a Hawaiian accent. I could understand enough—this was it. Our vows. Our moment.

I didn't prepare anything fancy to say. I just needed to say two words.

"I do."

–Carrie–

I tore through Livana's bedroom like a woman possessed, flipping drawers, yanking open closets, searching for that damned document—the title, the assets, the proof she had everything. But her vault was nowhere in sight. Of course. That witch hid it well.

I stormed toward her study. It had to be in there.

The second I turned the handle, the alarm howled like a banshee. A sharp, shrill scream that pierced my skull.

"Shit—!" I hissed, sprinting to the keypad on the wall. My fingers flew, punching in the code I thought was correct—only to be met with a red flash. Denied. Again. And again. I tried every combination Livana might've used, but the screen just blinked angrily, mocking me.

The house responded like it was alive—steel shutters slammed down over the door to the study. A mechanical growl echoed through the halls. It was no longer a home—it was a damn fortress.

"FUCK!" I shrieked, yanking my phone from my pocket. My hand trembled as I dialed.

"Pick up, pick up—"

"Geez, Carrie. What's that sound?" my mother finally answered, her voice already laced with judgment.

"Mom, help me! The alarm went off when I tried to get into Livana's study. The whole house locked down! The security is going to come—!"

"I'll talk to your father," she said curtly.

"Hurry!" I snapped, hanging up before she could lecture me. No time.

I glanced around, breathing fast, adrenaline pulsing through me like venom. I needed to think. Search the room. She had to be hiding something. I started opening cabinets, pulling at picture frames, tapping for hidden compartments.

Then, silence.

The alarm shut off.

I froze. My skin prickled. That wasn't good.

There were no cameras—Livana insisted on her privacy, and I knew we had access to the house's surveillance system. Or so I thought. There should've been eyes everywhere, but now it felt like someone else was watching me. And they were letting me hang myself.

The study door unlatched with a heavy click.

Two men stepped in. I blinked.

They weren't our security.

"I forgot the code my sister gave me," I said quickly, adopting an innocent tone. "It's all just a misunderstanding."

They didn't say a word. Just walked up to me and grabbed my arm like I was nothing but a trespasser.

"Hey! Where are our guards?! Who the hell are you?!" I snapped.

"Miss Livana stated that no maid and no one but herself may access the study," said the taller one, the one with sharp cheekbones and icy blue eyes.

What the hell? Foreigners? Had she replaced the entire staff?

They shoved me into the hallway where the rest of the staff—my staff—were lined up like criminals. Even the nurse I hired was here, still dressed in one of Livana's old gowns. I let her play dress-up, and now she stood there like she belonged in Livana's world more than I did.

More guards arrived. They circled us like predators.

One of them stepped forward. "We have Agent Jane here who will be conducting searches. Miss Livana has reported missing items from her personal collection."

His cold stare flicked between the maid and then to me.

I bristled. "That is RIDICULOUS! Livana is my sister! My cousin—"

"She didn't mention any cousin," he interrupted smoothly, flipping through his tablet.

My stomach dropped.

"What the hell is going on?" I snapped, praying someone—anyone—would side with me.

And then, salvation. Richard appeared. I exhaled in relief.

"This is my house," he said sharply, addressing the guards. "What's going on with my fiancé's cousin? And the staff? Why are they being treated like this?"

The man with blue eyes turned to him, unfazed. "Richard Knox?"

He scrolled through the tablet, completely ignoring Richard's authority. "There's a directive to clear the estate of all current staff. Miss Livana and her sister are currently on vacation in the Bahamas. She's requested a full security overhaul."

He paused.

"And she specifically listed the daughter of her father's mistress—Carrie—as someone to be removed from the premises."

My blood ran cold.

My eyes widened. "You bastard!" I shouted, trembling with fury. "My mother is NOT—"

"And the ex-fiancé," he added, glancing at Richard. "Both are to be escorted out. Immediately."

"You DARE—!" I lunged at him, absolutely livid, but was yanked back by two guards.

I could feel it—my pulse pounding in my temples, my cheeks flushed hot with humiliation, rage flooding every inch of me. She did this. Livana planned this. She knew I'd come back for what was mine. She anticipated it.

That blind bitch.

She might not be able to see, but she watched everything.