Her Obsession. Chapter 80

**Sage**

The silence that followed when Conner cut the comms was almost disorienting. No steady rasp of his breath in my ear, no gravelly mutters, no Liam cracking jokes on the other line. Just quiet. The mission was done, and for the first time in hours, I let myself breathe a little deeper.

Matteo leaned back in his chair, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Well,” he said, voice firm but not unkind, “looks like it’s bedtime, kids.”

I shot him a flat look. Naomi actually laughed. “Oh, I think not.”

I knew that tone. Mischief. Trouble.

Naomi pushed herself off the console, stretching her arms over her head like she wasn’t covered in bruises and stitches. “This is our chance, Sage. The guys aren’t here. Which means...exploring.”

I arched a brow. “I already know every room.”

“Oh, really?” She smirked. “But have you seen the trophy room?”

I froze.

Naomi’s smirk grew wider, like she’d caught me in a lie. “Didn’t think so.”

We slipped downstairs, our footsteps hushed against the wood. Naomi led the way like she owned the place, until we reached a heavy door I hadn’t bothered with before. She swung it open with a flourish. And there it was.

The air was cooler down here, the lighting softer. Shelves lined the walls, every surface filled with… pieces. Every bullet I’d mailed him, displayed in neat rows. Knives polished and mounted. A collection of photos, scribbled notes in my handwriting tucked behind glass. And in the center, a displace style freezer showcasing my severed hands. Well, not *mine*, but those of Conner's enemies I had removed and sent to him gift-wrapped. Not grotesque, not hidden. Preserved, cleaned, and displayed with reverence. My knees went weak. He’d kept everything. Every single gift.

Naomi glanced sideways at me, her grin fading into something gentler. “Guess you weren’t the only stalker in this relationship, huh?”

My throat closed. I couldn’t answer. I just stepped further into the room, fingertips grazing the cool glass case like I had to prove it was real. Every little piece of me. Every hand, every bullet, every scrap of madness I’d left him, he’d kept them all. He’d kept me.

“This is… so sweet,” I whispered, and my voice cracked right down the middle.

Naomi threw her head back and laughed, loud and unrepentant. “Sweet? No, babe. This is deranged. You’re both a couple of nutcases!”

Heat rushed up my neck. “Hey! At least I’m not calling him *daddy* and begging to be spanked like some naughty toddler.” I jabbed a finger at her, glare sharp enough to cut.

She smirked, nudging my shoulder with mock affection. “Oh, don’t worry. Give it time. You’ll be begging for it soon enough.”

I choked on my laugh, but it spilled out anyway, shaky and warm. And for a second, just a second, I let myself feel it. This. Being here. With Conner. With Naomi. Laughing, teasing, living like it was normal. It was the best thing I’d ever had in this miserable, bloodstained excuse for a life. But the thought curdled as quickly as it came. Reality crept back in, sharp and heavy.

“What are we going to do about Yakov?” I asked quietly, the words tasting bitter. “You know we can’t do this forever without being caught. Just being here, with them, it’s a risk. One mistake and they’ll all pay for it.”

Naomi’s smile softened into something thinner, sadder. She leaned against the wall, arms crossed tight across her ribs. “Yeah. I know. We’ve basically thrown them into the deep end without floaties…”

The silence that followed pressed in heavy, filled with things we didn’t want to say. The weight of Yakov’s name. The ticking clock of Ari’s warning. The knowledge that what we had right now was fragile. Temporary.

I looked around the room one last time, taking it in, the shrine to everything I was. Everything he saw in me. My obsession mirrored back at me, but made holy in the way only Conner could.

Naomi nudged me again, lighter this time. “We’ll figure it out,” she said, like it was that simple. Like it wasn’t already written in blood.

Naomi bumped my shoulder again, and I let out a tired sigh, rubbing at my ribs through the shirt Conner had buttoned me into. The adrenaline from our snooping was wearing off, and my body was screaming at me to stop pushing it.

“I should probably get back upstairs before Conner gets home,” I muttered, pulling my eyes from the glass cases. “If he catches me wandering, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Naomi smirked, tilting her head with a mischievous glint. “That’s exactly why I’m staying up. I’m due for another spanking, and I don’t intend to miss it.”

I groaned, shaking my head. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe. But you should’ve seen the look on Liam’s face earlier. Dead serious. Full ‘daddy’ mode. Gave me chills.” She shivered dramatically, then winked. “Why would I sleep when I can go wandering until he finds me? Way more fun.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “You’re actively hunting punishment. Do you hear yourself?”

“Yes. Loud and clear. And unlike you, I’ve decided to embrace the crazy.” She stretched like a cat, eyes glinting with defiance. “Go curl up with your Irish teddy bear, Ghost. I’m going to prowl the grounds until mine comes storming after me.”

I shook my head again, laughing despite myself as I turned toward the stairs. “You’re a menace.”

“Correction,” she called after me, sing-song, “I’m his menace.”

Her words echoed in the hallway as I climbed carefully back toward Conner’s room, my body aching, my heart heavier than I wanted to admit. He'd saved my ass in more ways than one, so I guess I owed it to him to do the right thing and get into bed.

**This work, Her Obsession by Sheridan Hartin, is an exclusive intellectual property legally contracted with NovelSnack. Any reproduction, distribution, or upload outside NovelFlow, AnyStories, NovelaGo, and Readink is unauthorized and constitutes copyright infringement.**