The Twisted Obsession

As Remo Quinn gazed at the woman walking into his office, he couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity.

Lounging back in his chair, Remo observed with a seemingly lazy demeanor as she made her approach.

The room had an ambient darkness, save for the gentle illumination of a small fire crackling in the hearth, casting a soft glow on the young woman's features.

Appearing no older than twenty, her skin looked fresh and her eyes held an innocence that never failed to spark his disdain. Remo had never been one to cherish or admire innocence.

While the polite thing might have been to stand up, it seemed rather pointless given the circumstances. Instead, he gestured to the chair opposite him with a casual wave of his hand.

"Feel free to take a seat," he remarked.

"Although, I wouldn't plan on staying too long if I were you. I tend to get bored easily, and boredom tends to lead me to mischief."

Unfazed by his impoliteness, the woman didn't even flinch. Remo found himself wondering about the kind of upbringing that had toughened her against insults so effectively. Most others would have blushed or teared up, but she was either remarkably thick-skinned or incredibly bold.

Twiddling her fingers in her lap, Remo raised an eyebrow while he patiently awaited her words. He was curious about what she had to say after having waited nearly eight hours at the bar just to speak to him. His reports said she had been coming here for almost a month, insisting on speaking to him.

Initially, he didn't pay her much mind, as many women sought his attention, but her persistence and the way his men had described her intrigued him.

A shy one, they said. A bit stuttery. Now, that had piqued his curiosity. He found himself intrigued by this stammering woman who had made his men beg him to talk to her.

For some reason, she had captured their jaded hearts. Remo scoffed. He couldn't blame them, though; looking at her, she resembled a frightened little rabbit in need of protection.

Despite his temptation to demand her purpose for seeking him out, Remo noticed the fear and uncertainty in her eyes. He didn't want to worsen her distress for whatever reason.

Exuding forced patience, he observed her as she appeared to mull over her words. As the silence stretched, Remo scrutinized her in the dancing firelight and realized, to his surprise, that she was attractive.

He hasn't truly looked at her when she was walking in, only registering a disheveled redhead with poor posture. But she was truly lovely.

As stared at her, he became aware of a slight tension building in his muscles, tiny hairs rising on the back of his neck.

He was mesmerized by her stunning red hair, which appeared to glow in the darkness. Her eyebrows and lashes were a darker shade of auburn, and her fair skin complete with a smattering of freckles on her nose and cheeks. Fuck he didn't think anyone could make freckles look this good.

Even in the dim light he could see this girl's angelique soft features, those large doe eyes and full lips.

Fuckin hell she's beautiful.

There's something about her eyes, the only word he could think of was she seemed so... gentle.

Delicate.

His breath caught a bit as he stared at her, and his skin got hot while her eyes finally met his gaze , and everything felt like it went in slow motion for a moment.

She was all he saw.

"T-thank you for—" she swallowed before continuing, "agreeing to meet me." She said, letting out a deep sigh before meeting his eyes again.

"Well you were persistent dear, couldn't say no forever."

She nodded tucking her hair behind her hair, "Y-yeah sorry about that—I-I—"

Remo frowned, when they said she stammered he didn't think it was this bad.

"Need your help." She finally managed out.

"My help?" Remo questioned. Why the hell would she ask for his help?

"Y-yes Mr. Quinn." She said, her voice barely above a whisper.

She had him even more curious and now he was even more determined to hear her purpose of visit.

Poor sweet girl, you could tell she had gotten way more than she bargained for coming here.

He should leave her alone.

He should.

But he really really didn't want to.

He had never claimed to not be a selfish son of a bitch, guess he was just living up to who he was.

"And what would this help be?"

"My father is dying but he's extremely rich."

Remo stared at her intently, why was she telling him this and what did this got to do with anything?

"Erm, good for you. I'm sure you're going to inherit everything. Don't tell me you need help managing your finances. You've come to the wrong place sweetheart."

"No," the woman retorted to his earlier comment.

Remo asked gently, "So, what do you want then? Get to the point, if you don't mind. This is getting tiresome."

"I want to spend my father's final days with him. My mother's family won't let me see him. Every time I try to go to the hospital, they catch me and punish me. This time, I won't go back to them. I'll avoid their plans, even if it means risking my life."

"And what plans are those?" he asked casually.

"They want to make me marry one of my cousins. He doesn't care about me, and I don't care about him. But he's a pawn in their scheme."

"To gain control of your father's money when he passes away?"

"Yes. I initially thought about it, to escape and have my own life. But he wants to stay with the family, and I can't bear that anymore. I think they want to kill me after they get my father's money."

Remo maintained his gaze on her face and kept his tone light. "Well, that's quite inconsiderate of them. Why should I give a damn?"

She pulled a picture from her bag and placed it on his table

"Because— she— told me to find you, if I ever need help. S-she said you will pro-tect me."