Page 118 of Unapologetic Obsession
“Drive,” Caden ordered.
Chapter
Thirty-Eight
ROSE
Neither of usspoke a word as the car pulled away. I looked out the window instead, fingers trailing my lap as Raoul weaved through traffic. Professor Maxwell’s knee brushed mine when we turned a corner, and I shifted away immediately. His eye twitched, but he didn’t say anything.
The car rolled to a stop in a deserted parking lot, and I could no longer keep my apprehensions at bay. “Where are we?” The leather seat creaked beneath me as I leaned forward, my palms damp.
“Here’s fine, Raoul,” he told his chauffeur instead of answering my question. “Leave me the keys and take an Uber back.”
Raoul’s sympathetic eyes met mine in the rearview mirror before darting away. He complied, wordlessly handing over the keys to Professor Maxwell. I studied the gray building towering over the empty parking lot. It looked like an abandoned warehouse. We were still in the city, but the building was tucked away in a secluded corner, stripped of civilization. Fear slithered around my spine like a cold snake. The double doors were rusted, and the walls were cracked and covered in graffiti.According to the ladders and paint canisters, someone had been doing repairs to fix the years of neglect.
He hauled me out of the car and dragged me inside. Protesting would only piss him off at this point, so I followed quietly. The warehouse was massive, with high ceilings, rows of towering pillars extending endlessly, and natural light filtering in through the windows. I expected the walls to be covered in layers of dust and grime, but the restoration efforts for the interior showed better progress.
Despite the gnawing sense of dread curling around my ribs, I couldn’t help but admire the relentless precision of the renovations. The walls had a fresh coat of paint—eggshell, I believe—and the floorboards were brand new. Every spackled edge of the drywall was flawless, and every beam and bracket was marked with laser-leveled accuracy. Rows of brand-new workbenches gleamed with unused intent. The glassware was stacked in military order, as if awaiting a parade inspection, while the glistening steel of the autoclaves and centrifuges stood sentinel in their assigned alcoves. It was clearly meant to be a giant science lab, and a dream come true for someone with OCD.
“What is this place?”
Professor Maxwell raked his fingers through his dirty-blond hair, leaving furrows like a freshly plowed field. “I bought this place to start a pharmaceutical company.”
“You’re leaving NewTech?” I couldn’t hide my surprise. He chose to work at NewTech because of its cutting-edge technology. But it seemed he had set up shop with similar access.
“Eventually. This warehouse is being converted into a lab, and I’ll add offices for the admins. The renovations will take at least six months.”
“The space has…potential,” I admitted reluctantly. “Why are you showing it to me?”
“Because you were upset, and I wanted to speak to you somewhere private.” He paused before adding, “I also thought you might like to see our new lab.”
My insides coiled with dread. “I’m not working for you after graduation.” I was counting down to the day until I could get away from him. I thought he would have worked that out by now.
His jaw tightened, eyes turning cold. “Of course you are.”
“No, I’m not,” I snapped.
“You don’t have a choice. Your father cut you off and blacklisted you from every graduate program and job in the tristate area.”
“Then, I’ll move.”
“Like hell you will.” His frosty eyes moved over my face before he inhaled. I assumed he was trying to calm himself down. “It doesn’t have to be this way, Rose. You don’t have to fight me every step of the way.”
Frustrated, I closed my eyes. “What do you want from me?”
“Everything.” His voice cut like steel. “How much clearer can I be about my intentions? I wantyou.”
“I think you have a lot of options if sex is what you’re after.”
“It’s not about sex.” His voice cut like a blade against stone. “I want you, and I want everything that comes with it. But you keep yourself locked away from me. Let me in, Rose.”
The raw confession from this usually composed man sliced through my anger. He’d never exposed himself like this, and, for once, he seemed vulnerable. Despite everything, I found myself wanting to reach out, to smooth the hurt from his face with my fingertips.
His hand raked through his hair again. “This is driving me fucking crazy.Youare driving me fucking crazy. I’ve never been this way before you.” His eyes seemed wild and unfocused.
I didn’t make a sound as his short-lived vulnerability fizzled away. He was like a live wire, electrifying the air around him and ready to explode with the wrong move.
His eyes held mine captive, the silence stretching between us until it became its own form of violence. The absence of the city noise felt like a trap. I was suddenly hyperaware that there was no one around in a one-mile radius.
