Page 80 of Unapologetic Obsession
I blinked hard, trying to focus my thoughts. She wouldn’t leave. There was no fucking way.
I checked downstairs, followed by the main areas of the boat, calling her name repeatedly.
Nothing.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
I returned to my room and slammed my door so hard the walls shook. Grabbing the bag of breakfast sandwiches off the coffee table, I hurled it across the room where it knocked a glass of water to the floor with a satisfying crack. My fists pummeled the wall, the impact sending shock waves up my arms.
What. The. Actual. FUCK!
The satisfaction of last night evaporated, replaced by a storm. She finally gave in, but then she disappeared without a word. Was this because her family wouldn’t approve or because she was my student?
Rose had an aversion to risk. She wouldn’t have taken such a big one without thinking it through or fully committing to it. There was no way she was backing out or changing her mind, though all signs pointed to the opposite.
I wouldn’t let her retreat, not after we finally crossed that line. For so long I had kept a lid on it, keeping my distance so I wouldn’t spook her. My obsession had been warring with her personal boundaries for months. She finally reciprocated, only to disappear.
I grabbed my phone and pulled up Rose’s phone number, the one Alex had sent me. The phone rang a few times before going to voicemail. I tried the number again, and this time, her phone was switched off.
I refused to let her ignore me.
I left a message, sent her a few texts, too. When none of it elicited a response, I dialed a different number.
“Professor Maxwell.” Miles sounded surprised, and perhaps still a little drunk from last night.
“Miles. Call Rose Ambani from your phone. I’ll text you the number.”
He was quiet for a moment. Miles wasn’t stupid. He had worked for me long enough to know I never paid attention to students. He knew my interest in Rose wasn’t entirely innocent but would never make the bold accusation out loud. After all, I held his career in the palms of my hands.
“Is everything okay?—”
“I need to get a hold of her. Now!”
“You got it.” He didn’t even ask why I wasn’t the one making the call if I already had her number.
“Merge the call when she answers.” If she thought she could avoid me, Rose had another think coming. One way or another, I would make her talk to me, even if Miles had to stay on the line, listening in on the conversation.
“No problem.”
I hung up and texted him the number. A few minutes passed before he called me back.
“I tried her cell a few times. But my calls are going to voicemail,” he explained, which merely grated on my nerves.
“Have the other assistants try the number. Don’t stop until someone gets a hold of her.”
He seemed reluctant at my new request. While he wouldn’t question my relationship with Rose, he didn’t want anyone else catching on and jeopardizing my position at the university. Because any blow to my career would trickle down to damage his. “Are you sure you want to include them?—”
“Yes,” I snapped.
“What should I tell them this is in regard to?—”
“Tell them nothing and just to do as I say,” I barked, hanging up the phone.
Despite the involvement of my staff, I continued to call and text Rose. Seconds bled into agonizing minutes without any response. When it hit the one-hour mark, I started to lose my mind.
My relentless pursuit led me to her Instagram. I scrolled through it with the fake account I had created to keep tabs on her. There was a new post from last night—a photo with Doyle and the rest of her group. He stood right next to her, and she was smiling.
She was fucking smiling.
