BECOMING HIS OBSESSION

BECOMING HIS OBSESSION

asonyechinenye231 · Ongoing · 65.3k Words

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Introduction

Clara thought she knew the man she loved until she goes into a warehouse and finds out his true identity as mafia. Her first step toward freedom was supposed to be fleeing from her ex who is a criminal, rather, it pushes her into another nightmare.

In a bid to avoid her ex and an anonymous stalker who won’t stop giving her sleepless nights since the past month,, she moves into a highly secured apartment with a questionable price without thinking twice.

There, she meets Julian, her neighbor who lives across the hallway and is everything her ex-boyfriend isn’t- charming, polite and protective.

Clara begins to think luck has finally arrived when her perfect neighbor volunteers to help her settle in and become her model for her photography project.

Coincidentally, the terrifying messages she gets suddenly stops.

What will be her fate when she discovers her secured apartment is a trap? Will she discover what she ought to before it becomes too late? And when her mafia ex tracks her down finally, who will save her from his wrath?

Chapter 1

CLARA

Usually, my Camera is the only thing that makes me feel like I am in charge of my own life, but tonight feels different… like a trap or something.

The photo studio is freezing cold, so tell me, why can I feel a cold sweat dripping down the back of my neck? Why won’t my heart stop beating fast?

“You look beautiful in those shorts. The sweatshirt is nice too.” 

Those messages pop up on my screen as I bend to pick my phone. My pulse rate increases immediately while I dab at my face with my hands, turning to see if someone is truly watching me. I couldn’t shake off the thought, someone is literally stalking me.

“No… this isn’t my anxiety anymore.” I say to myself, looking at the shorts and sweatshirt I have on, exactly what the stalker had described in his message.

With the beads of sweat forming on my forehead, I turn to see if someone is really in the studio with me. I remember dismissing my last client from the studio and the lady who used to assist me had resigned a month ago, there is literally no one in the studio currently except me.

Maybe the anonymous messenger had seen me leaving my estate this morning… but…this has been going on for the past month, this creepy, awful feeling of being monitored…

“Who is there?” My voice echoes as my head turns with every move I make, my gaze at the door and the studio curtains with my heart still beating hard.

“Hellooo… Could you please tell me why you love staying in the dark?” Elena says while walking into the studio and turning the lights on, her blonde ponytail bouncing.

I heave a sigh of relief as soon as I set my eyes on her—My goofy childhood friend who has a way of lighting everywhere with her presence…

“Ice-creams?” She stretches a polythene bag which I reluctantly collect.

She trots over and shoves her phone screen into my face directly. “Look! The portrait series you dropped three hours ago is blowing up completely. Check the comments, girl! You have literally gained thirty thousand followers since lunch!”

My lips narrow as I force a tight, artificial smile. “That’s great Elly…” My eyes dart to the dark windows facing the street.

“Hey…” Elena’s lively voice drops as she holds my freezing wrist with her warm hand. “You are shivering… that creepy online fan again? He sent another message?”

I swallow the hard lump in my throat and look at my phone which is resting on the equipment crate. I don’t want to admit it. I don’t want to tell her that the anonymous messenger had sent a direct message thirty minutes ago, describing what I was putting on. He is definitely somewhere, watching me.

“I’m fine, Elly.” I lie with a hollow voice. “Just tired from a whole week of straight overtime… you know how hectic it can be.”

“Oh! That’s true… so sorry darling…” Elena scoff, crossing her arms. “You need to call Marcus or whatever his name is… let that big scary boyfriend of yours do something helpful for the first time in his life, the city is kinda weird tonight, he can at least, drive you home…”

Marcus. Hearing that name makes my stomach churn but I’m not ready to start that conversation with Elena.

“Yeah… I will.” I mumble, packing my lens into my bag.

Ten minutes later, I am seated in my car, watching how the windshield wipers clear the heavy rain. The city lights looking messy, like streaks of white and orange paint on the wet glass. I hold my phone to my ear while I listen to it ring forever.

Marcus remains the only person who is capable of leaving his woman stranded at any given time.

I toss my phone onto the dash pad without surprise and grab the steering.

“Leave a message” I look at the message from Marcus and sigh. It has always been like this lately. Marcus is always missing, always at “important business meetings” that he would never tell me about. 

All through the way home, I keep checking the rear view mirror and panicking at the same time because a pair of headlights seem to be taking every route I take.

I finally get to my apartment, run up the stairs with my heavy camera lens bag. All I want to do is lock my doors and hide under my bedcover.

“Damn goodness!”

I completely freeze immediately I turn my key and push the door open.

My apartment isn’t dark like the way I left it. Every single light has been turned on. And the air, which often smells like my nice strawberry candles, was now thick with the foul smell of cigarette smoke.

“We need to take over the south end first, I told you.” A rough looking man with a big scar on his face growled. My gaze drops on the heavy black pistol tucked into his jeans as he pulls his jacket back.

There are five of them. Five mean, rough-looking, huge guys I have never seen in my life, chilling in my living room like they own it. And you know the funniest part? The one who is leaning back at my dining table with a cigarette in his hand and sitting right in the middle of them is my boyfriend—Marcus. 

“What the hell is going on here?” I whisper, my voice cracking as my heavy camera bag slips off my hand, hitting the floor with a loud thud.

Marcus didn’t even stand to welcome me. He only looked up, blew a slow circle of smoke into the air and stared at me with his eyes that cared less about how terrified I am..

“Clara, go to the bedroom.” He says in a nonchalant tone.

  “We are busy.”

“Busy?” I walk closer to him, my fear turning into rage.

“Marcus… What is this? There are men with guns in my own house! Who are they and what are they doing here?”

Letting out a loud sigh, he finally stands up. Marcus was huge, overshadowing me completely with his physique. He taps the ash on his cigarette onto my favorite plate.

“You have to get used to it, Clara. The Black axe men are trying so hard to take my territory. My guys and I have unfinished business so I need them close to me.”

Guns… Gangs…men…

Right there, everything clicked.

Marcus hasn’t just lied about being in the mafia, he is bringing the danger right into my abode, caring less about how I would feel.

“Never!” I snap. “There is no way I am getting used to this, no way!”

“Clara, you have to stop being dramatic…”

“We are done, Marcus!” I shout at the top of my lungs.

I storm into my bedroom, grab the largest suitcase in my closet and begin to get my clothes off the hangers. My hands fly as I do so as a result of the adrenaline. I pack my hard drives, camera and every single thing.

While grabbing them, Marcus stands in the doorway looking very angry but I don’t care about that anymore, I drag my bags, walk past him and those monstrous things he called “men”

The heavy downpour doesn’t even make me consider staying back for the night.

Hours later, I’m wrapped in a heavy blanket on Elena’s sofa. For the first time in months, I feel a little bit of freedom.

I open my instagram and post a blurry photo of the high road lights from my drive, captioning it “New beginning”

 and giving a hint to my followers that I am done with him.

Ignoring the comments that are already flooding in, I toss my phone onto the coffee stool and take a deep breath.

 And almost immediately, the screen lit up with a notification—A notification from that creepy anonymous stalker.

I lean back, my throat clenching as I read the message…

“Happy breakup, my sweet girl. Now, it's safe to call you MINE…”

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