All Chapters of CRUEL OBSESSION : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Chapter TwoObedience Isn’t LoveThe days blurred together like a dream she couldn’t wake up from.Sienna did everything she was told. Every morning, she dressed in soft colors. Every afternoon, she helped the staff prepare tea for the Westwood women. And every night, she returned to an empty bedroom with perfectly fluffed pillows and untouched sheets.The only evidence Damien had ever been there were the fading colognes on his shirts left tossed over a chair.He never spoke to her. Only looked at her occasionally, like she was a painting he hadn’t asked for but couldn’t take down.---On the fifth day of their marriage, the Westwood matriarch, Eleanor, summoned her.She stood by the grand piano in the sitting room, her jewelry glinting beneath the chandelier, her lips pursed in that usual tight-lipped disapproval.“You will attend the charity gala next week,” Eleanor said. “Wear something that doesn’t shame our name. And try not to speak unless spoken to.”“Yes, ma’am,” Sienna said q

Chapter FourThe Room That Doesn’t ExistSienna hadn’t seen Damien in two days.Not since the gala. Not since he whispered to that woman right in front of her and left like she was nothing.The housekeeper, Maria, said he hadn’t come home. Eleanor, on the other hand, walked around with a permanent sneer on her face like she knew something Sienna didn’t.She always did.Still, Sienna played her role.She dressed properly. Ate quietly. Attended brunch with Damien’s aunts and smiled through their sharp, backhanded compliments.But inside her, something was changing.The girl who once tiptoed through the Westwood mansion like a ghost was learning to listen. To watch. To remember. She had no power here—but knowledge? That, she could collect.And she had a new obsession.Dante Westwood.---She returned to the library when no one was watching.The folder she found on Dante had been moved. Hidden again. But she remembered the contents, the name of the street—Devil’s Bend—and most of all, the

Chapter SixUnspoken ThingsThe days following her discovery of Dante’s room passed like fog.Sienna kept her distance.Damien did the same.But something between them had shifted. Unspoken. Tense. Electric.He avoided her eyes now.Not like before—when he simply didn’t care to look at her.Now, it was different.He was afraid of what he might see if he did.Sienna wandered the garden early one morning, her hands brushing through lavender and overgrown roses, trying to clear her mind.That’s when she heard footsteps behind her.She turned.Damien.Of course.Hair slightly tousled, black shirt unbuttoned at the top, sleeves rolled up just enough to show the veins running down his forearms.Effortlessly cruel-looking.“I thought you didn’t do mornings,” she said, folding her arms.“I don’t.” His voice was clipped. Cold. Like always.But he didn’t walk away.Instead, he walked past her and stood beside the roses. “You’re watering them wrong.”She blinked. “Excuse me?”“They’re too drowne

Chapter EightSecrets in the ShadowsThe west wing was silent. Too silent.Sienna stood barefoot in the hallway, holding her breath as she stared at the piano room’s heavy oak doors. The letter from Dante was folded tightly in her pocket like a lifeline. She hadn’t slept—not with Eleanor’s chilling stare still burned into her memory and Damien’s warning echoing in her ears.But she needed answers.Her fingers hovered over the door handle.Locked.Of course.She pulled a silver hairpin from her bun, heart racing. Her fingers were shaky, but after years of sneaking into rooms her father never wanted her in, she wasn’t a stranger to lock-picking.Click.The door creaked open.Moonlight filtered through the stained glass windows, casting eerie patterns on the grand piano in the center of the room. Dust floated in the air like tiny ghosts.She stepped inside.There it was—an old, carved piano with gold detailing.She ran her hands along the keys. Silent. Dead.Then she saw it.At the very

Chapter TenThe Hidden TruthsThe next morning, Sienna didn’t get much sleep. Her mind raced through everything Damien had told her—the photo, the letter, the secret her mother had hidden so well. It felt like she was chasing ghosts, her heart torn between wanting answers and wanting to run away from them.But the more she thought about it, the more she realized she couldn’t run.Not anymore.She sat in the garden, the warmth of the early sun washing over her, but she could still feel the chill in her bones. There were too many unanswered questions. The letter from Dante, the hidden compartment in the piano room, the cryptic warnings from Damien… everything felt like a carefully woven web, pulling her deeper with every passing day.Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps. She didn’t need to look up to know who it was. The air around her seemed to shift when Damien approached.“You’re still up?”His voice was distant, like he hadn’t expected to find her here.“I couldn’