What are you doing here? How did you get in? It's a stupid question. I know it is. Matthias is Matthias, but it still rattles me because my door has three dead bolts and two latches. And unless he suddenly developed the ability to scale a 16-story building, there's no way he came in through the window. God, who am I kidding? He probably has a key. After all, he's the one paying for this apartment. But still, Matthias is lounging on my shades,
looking utterly bored. My eyes flick to his hand, moving, rolling something between his fingers. My stomach drops. He's holding my underwear, twisting it in his palm like it's a goddamn stress ball. Aren't you glad to see me? I narrow my eyes. He's the last person I want to see. And why the hell is he still playing with my underwear? Matthias smirks when my gaze drops to the delicate lace tangled in his fingers. No. His face shifts. Serious. Unreadable. Where were you? I scoff.
I'm sorry. How is that any of your business? His jaw tightens. I like poking the bear. It's fun. Until it's not. But seeing Matthias pissed over something besides his money? That? I relish. He rises from the shades, closing the space between us in an instant. My pulse kicks up. This man is unpredictable as hell. I barely have time to react before he grabs my wrist and yanks me off the bed. Matthias! He drags me to my feet, his hand
snapping to my throat. Not squeezing, not hurting, just holding. He leans in and breathes me in. What the fuck is wrong with you? I shove at him, but he doesn't budge an inch. I stumble back onto the bed, my silk nightgown riding up. My traitorous body responds before my brain catches up. Nipples tightening, heat pooling low. Matthias cocks his head, gazed dark, unreadable. Did you fuck him? Yes, and it was fucking good. His nostrils flare. Before I can
blink, he yanks me forward, his hand sliding beneath my nightgown. I don't think you have the slightest idea what good even feels like. His palm cups my breast, kneading slowly, deliberately. I grasp his wrist, but he pulls me in closer, his fingers rolling my nipple between them. Harder. Matthias brushes his thumb over the peak. Ah, this man is everything I shouldn't want. I arch, body betraying me, melting into his touch. Then he leans in, his breath hot against my ear. Did it feel like this?
Reality slams back into me like a freight train. I rip myself away, chest heaving. Fuck you. He laughs, low, dark, amused, as he saunters to my dressing table, picking up my perfume like he owns the place. Then he turns, smirking. Shouldn't you be getting ready for work? I roll my eyes. The last I checked, I quit. And last I checked, I gave you what you wanted. That was part of the deal, to get you back to work. Deal? We never discussed anything.
You just kissed me and said, get back to work. I'm a grown woman, Matthias. I don't take orders from you. Is he really this delusional? Maybe he thinks the world revolves around him. Interesting. His voice is calm, but there's something lurking beneath it. Then with a tilt of his head, he says, it's a shame you're this ungrateful. Ungrateful? I echo, eyes narrowing. Forget about it. Why are you here, Matthias? He leans against the dresser, completely at ease.
I came to remind you about work, but since you don't want it, I've given it to someone else. Something in my stomach twists. Come again? Your job. His voice is maddeningly indifferent. The one you absolutely don't want? It's no longer yours. I lift my chin, forcing indifference I don't feel. Good. But in reality, I was counting on holding that over his head. I would have gone back eventually.
But now that I'm being replaced? What the fuck? Matthias picks up my perfume, uncaps it, takes a slow inhale. Yeah, your friend and I had a lovely chat. My stomach drops. Who? He snaps his fingers, pretending to search his memory. Ah. Oh, right. Fens. My heart lodges in my throat. Oh god. Fens. My voice barely comes out. Matthias, what did you do? He shrugs. Nothing much really. I study him. There are fresh bruises on his face along his knuckles. I'd noticed them earlier,
but figured they were from his job. But now that I think about it, he didn't have them at the club. Shit. Is he dead? Did he kill Fens? I swallow hard. What do you mean by nothing much? Fens is a really good friend of mine. Matthias' smirk is razor sharp. So good you had to fuck him? No, god no Matthias. I did not fuck him. My voice is frantic now. Where is Fens? I whip around, yanking open my nightstand drawer. Where the hell is my fucking phone? Shit. I left it at the club. God damn it.
Matthias dangles it in front of me, smug as ever. Looking for this? My entire body locks up. Where is Fens, Matthias? He twirls my phone between his fingers. Where you should have been, at work? My blood turns ice cold. Don't you dare ruin him. Matthias strides across the room, his laughter low and mocking. Me? Ruin? How well do you really know your little friend? If you heard a hair on him. Shouldn't you be more worried about me, princess?
Go fuck yourself. He laughs. Loud. Like I just told the best joke he's ever heard. After all. He gestures to the red marks on his face. He did this to me. My breath catches. Fens? Never. Matthias doesn't let people get close enough to land a hit. Not unless he allows it. And if Fens actually managed to strike him, that means my heart hammers. Where is Fens, Matthias? Matthias doesn't answer. Instead, he strolls to my walk-in closet and opens the door. A distraction. I grip my teeth.
Don't you ever listen? Sometimes I wonder if your brain is even yours to begin with. All that education and you still ask ridiculous questions. I told you he's at work. My nails dig into my palms. He may be at work, but that doesn't mean he's okay. Your guy is quite admirable. Knocked out two of my men, even managed to land a hit on me. He exhales. Almost impressed. To be honest, I was surprised. So surprised that I started having fun with it. I shoot to my feet. He what?
The words barely register. Fens? The Fens? If he took down two of Matthias's men, that meant he could have a good life. He took down two of Matthias's men. That meant he could have knocked out the guy at the bar too. But he doesn't seem like the type. Is he? Matthias watches me, reading every flicker of doubt across my face. Fens would never. Matthias smirks. You really are clueless about the company you keep. Why would Fens take a job with the likes of you? He shrugs. Money. Power.
Power? Who knows. It was rather easy, actually. I told him there was an opening, asked if he wanted it. Matthias leans in slightly, watching my reaction. Told him it was your old job and that fucker didn't even hesitate. Not even after I gave him the specifics. I grind my teeth. You're lying. When would you even have time for that? A ridiculous question. Matthias can get whatever he wants in under an hour. Right after you pretend fucked him.
My eyes narrow. Matthias reaches up, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. His touch burns, familiar and infuriating. You really thought you could get away with that lie, princess? His breath is warm against my skin. Had you actually fucked him, he'd be in a body bag in my basement. Then he walks away, leaving me dazed. Not just by his scent, but by the unshakable pull of him. I despise him. I despise him for always being one step ahead. But worst of all, I still want him.
I really don't get you. You hate me. You act like I'm the goddamn plague. But the second a man gets within five feet of me, you're ready to kill. If that's your way of showing affection, you suck at it. Matthias moves so fast, I barely see it. One second he's across the room. The next he's right in front of me, towering, suffocating. You think I'm showing you affection? God, you really are delusional. I exhale through my nose.
I'm not going to stand here and argue with you, Matthias. I know what this is. His jaw ticks. Might I remind you that... Yeah, yeah. I roll my eyes, feigning a yawn. I'm indebted to you. Blah, blah, blah. I stretch, making a point to sound bored. I'm so tired from last night and thanks to you I'm up earlier than expected. But since you've graced me with your presence and, oh, stolen my job, I think I'll use this as an opportunity to get back in bed and sleep.
I drop onto my mattress, yanking the sheets over me. Matthias stands over me, waiting, expecting me to react, to push back. Not today. I fluff my pillow, reach for my eye mask and slip it on. He can stand there all morning if he wants. I'm going back to sleep. Footsteps move around my room, slow and deliberate. Then his voice cuts through the silence. When you're done with your beauty nap, princess, make sure you have enough time to get ready for dinner with me. Six o'clock.
My body goes rigid beneath the covers. Wait. What? I rip off the eye mask, sitting upright. He's gone. I rush outside, but Matthias is nowhere to be found. Like a fucking ninja. Dinner? He wants us to have dinner? What is wrong with this man? Why is he suddenly doing everything I've been asking him for? And then he has the audacity to say he doesn't have any affection for me. So then what the fuck is this? Truth be told, I didn't get any beauty sleep.
I've been up all day getting ready for tonight. For him. Hair dresser. Nails. Designer mall. The perfect dress. That alone took me a while to get ready. That alone took me three hours, leaving me with only two to get ready. I should be putting up a fight about this date. I should be tearing him apart for demanding it. But the truth? I've wanted this for a very long time. I'll be damned if I let my pride ruin it. Matthias may be an asshole, but he's my asshole.
And I happen to be obsessed with this prick. At 10 minutes to six, I get a call from one of his men. We're outside waiting for you. I open the door and there stands Matthias. A navy blue velvet suit clings to his body like sin. He looks fucking delicious. And that beard? How can one man be dangerous in both looks and spirit? He extends his hand and I take it. But that's not what he wants. What? I frown. Matthias curls his fingers impatiently. Need I ask? I blink. I'm not a psychic, you know.
Underwear? I scoff. What are you? A panty snatcher or something? You still haven't returned the one from last night. Matthias doesn't respond. He just waits, fingers flexing as if I'm wasting his time. Prick. Fine. I slip them off and slap them onto his palm. He smirks, squeezes them, then casually tucks them into his pant pocket like some fucking trophy. The restaurant is far more elaborate than I expected. Chandeliers, dim lighting, expensive decor.
I don't know why, but I thought he'd take me somewhere else. I don't even know. Just not this. We're seated in a secluded section, away from prying eyes. It's not completely closed off, but it's private. Intimate. Fancy. I murmur as he pulls out my chair. Matthias smirks. I forgot your standards are below ground. My face drops. His face is a little bit like a baby. I'm not sure if it's a real smile, but it's not. I'm just a little bit down. My face drops. His smile widens. A real, genuine smile.
The first I've ever seen from him. It's nice to see you take pleasure in my demise. I take pleasure in anything that aligns with my state of mind. Well, that explains the darkness. I quip. You should probably clean out the attic once in a while. I'm not sure if it's a real smile, but it's nice. He muses. When you're the same woman who went on a cheap date and drank boxed wine at a bar table. I glare at him. He leers at me. We stare, unblinking, until the waiter interrupts.
Thank God. Because staring into those devilish brown eyes was unraveling me bit by bit. And I hate losing, especially to Matthias Ford. I feel like I'm in a real, we eat in silence, but it's not uncomfortable. Somehow his company is pleasant. Not once does he touch his phone. Aside from our brief conversation about Fenns and whatever plans Matthias has for him, the night is surprisingly smooth. Almost like a real date. When the waiter clears our table, Matthias orders dessert. Dessert.
I thought this would be the worst date ever, but it seems like he's actually trying to be nice. I excuse myself from the table, and the second I stand, I'm painfully reminded that I'm not wearing underwear. Shit. I need to be careful. Anything Matthias does sets me off, and the last thing I need is to be walking around with a soiled red dress. When I return, Matthias tucks his phone away.
That's...considerate. Almost sweet. The ice cream and cake arrive, and I'm just about to dig in when Matthias leans back and pulls out two velvet boxes from his suit jacket. He places them next to my hand. Take your pick. I smile, but it doesn't reach my ears. A gift? For me? Sarcasm drips from my voice. I take a spoonful of ice cream, savoring the cold sweetness on my tongue before setting the spoon down and picking up one of the boxes. I open it. I swallow. I glance at him. Then at the box.
Then at the next box. I open that one too. My fingers tremble slightly as I eye the rings. Two rings. Matthias is expressionless. Fucking blank. He would make an excellent poker player because what the fuck is this? Matthias unbuttons the top of his shirt and takes a bite of his cake. Uh, what is this? My voice is low, controlled, but my pulse pounds. Matthias doesn't look up. I think you very well know what that is.
He takes another forkful of cake, chewing like we're discussing the fucking weather. A ring? My chest. My chest tightens. Is this supposed to be an engagement or something? No, of course not. This is a gift, right? He sets his fork down and sits back in his chair. You will become my wife. His voice is calm, steady, like he's discussing business, like this is already decided. I hadn't planned on doing it this early. He continues. But you forced my hand. Forced his hand? My stomach drops.
What exactly did I force, Matthias? I want to lower my voice. I want to stifle my rage. But the words pour out of me like a broken dam. I am not going to marry you. I hiss, my hands curling into fists. And I sure as hell will not be your wife. Matthias exhales slowly. I wasn't asking Katia. It was a statement. I laugh, a dry, humorless sound. I don't give a fuck what you call it. I snap. You don't have the right to dictate my life. Matthias tilts his head, smirks. Actually, he says smoothly.
I do. I bite down hard. I don't want to make a scene. I really don't. But this man is pushing all my buttons. I want to be free, Matthias. My voice trembles with barely restrained fury. Free from you, free from this, free from everything you've roped me into. I push my bowl of ice cream away. I've lost my fucking appetite. If I have to pay you back every cent, I will. My fingers dig into the table. Because the last thing I'm going to do is become your wife. How are you going to do that with me?
How are you going to do that without a job, Katia? Matthias' voice is smooth, taunting. You walked away from the only thing you had going for you. I do not want to be your mistress. I don't think you have a choice. God, you are fucking crazy. Lower your voice. He warns. We are in public. Don't tell me what to do. You act like a child, yet you want your freedom. I shove my chair back, standing abruptly. His gaze darkens. Sit. He scolds. I glare at him.
I will lay you out before you can make a scene. Now sit down, Katia. Do not embarrass me. I slowly lower myself back into my chair, rage simmering under my skin. How much? I bite out. How much to be free from you? I'm not going to be free from you. Matthias smirks, takes another bite of his cake and sets his fork down. Do you really want to go there? Yes. I see. He exhales through his nose like he's humoring me. Your father owed us just over half a million dollars.
Then I took you in, bathed, clothed, fed you, even paid for your education. I'd say... He tilts his head toward the ceiling as if calculating... 1.5 million. Give or take. Liar. Matthias' expression doesn't flicker. Not even a muscle moves. Don't accuse me of what you don't know, he says. So unless you have that money to buy your freedom, stop wasting my time. My hands curl into fists under the table. I hate him. I hate that he has me trapped. I hate that I ever thought he was my father.
I never thought he could love me. Now. He continues... Finish your ice cream and be a good girl and pick a ring. I shove a random box toward him and pick up my spoon. Matthias watches me with amusement, his lips twitching as if holding back a laugh. Is that your final answer? Fuck you. I whisper. He chuckles, slow and deep, before spearing another bite of cake. I bet you do. This man is a demon. How could I ever have been so stupid to think I could love him despite his faults?
Matthias Ford doesn't care about me. He never did. He only cares about himself. His power. His reputation. The moment I let him see how much I adored him, I lost. Because now he's using it as a weapon against me. I finish my ice cream quickly. Forcing every bite down like it's poison. Then I set my napkin on the table. Take me home. Matthias leans back, taking his time finishing his drink. The night isn't over until I say it's over, Princess. I keep my face blank. I refuse to marry this monster.
And if he thinks he can trap me in this fucking nightmare, he's a damn fool. Tonight, after dinner, after he drops me off at home, I am going to run. Run so far and fast that he will never find me. And that will be my revenge. That will be my retribution. You have met the end of Toxic Obsession, Part 3. So I had said Part 3 would have been the last, but I found that this episode needed some fleshing out.
Stay tuned for Part 4. I would also like you to know that Kamaya's Closet is on TikTok and Instagram. You can search Kamaya Sloan on Instagram and Kamaya's Closet on TikTok. Your follow would mean a lot to me and help grow my community. Thanks. See you in the next episode. Bye.