Tangled in His Obsession



Seraphina stepped out of the hospital's glass doors, making her way back to the car where Leandro was still on a call. As she approached, he hastily wrapped up his conversation, "Alright, set it up for now. I'll come over in a couple of days." She slid into the passenger seat and couldn't help but ask, "Are you going somewhere?"

"Germany," Leandro pocketed his phone and turned to her, a hint of invitation in his eyes. "Do you want to join me?"

Seraphina rolled her eyes playfully, "You know I'm swamped with the gallery opening. I can't just take off."

Leandro simply replied, "Looks like you've got more on your plate than just the gallery."

A chuckle escaped her as she met his gaze, which held a shadow of concern. "Don't worry, I'll keep myself out of trouble. It's you who should be careful, jetting off to another country."

With that, she leaned in and pecked Leandro on the corner of his mouth. Leandro glanced down at her and, in a swift move, captured her lips in a deeper kiss, ending it with a playful nip.

"Ouch!" Seraphina protested, half-irritated, half-amused, as she playfully threw a few mock punches and kicks his way. "You beast!"

With effortless grace, he grasped her flailing limbs, and within a heartbeat, she was enveloped in his embrace again. The more she struggled, the more Leandro seemed to enjoy it, repeating the cycle.

When Seraphina calmed down, a sly glint appeared in her eyes, and she remembered she was quite adept at this game herself.

"You like playing it rough, huh?" Seraphina smirked, "Then let's see who ends up on top!"

With that, she flipped the script and pressed herself against him, sealing their lips together with fervor.

Leandro couldn't get enough of it. Inside the car, warmth swirled, intoxicating; outside, the driver stood dutifully turned away, pretending not to notice the subtle rocking of the vehicle.

Three days later, Leandro set off for Germany.

Despite her busy schedule, Seraphina had to make time to see him off at the airport. Even as she buried herself in paperwork, Leandro managed to keep her in the VIP lounge until his boarding time approached. Only then was she released from his hold.

Once free, she surprisingly lingered in the lounge until she received word that Leandro's flight had taken off. Then, she gathered her things and headed for the parking garage.

Just as she stepped into the elevator, a voice called out, "Hold up, please."

Abbot, standing in front of her, pressed the button to keep the doors open.

But Seraphina glanced over his shoulder, fixing her gaze on the man outside, "Mr. Gray."

Patrick Gray, positioned behind his assistant, offered a slow smile upon seeing her, "Sera, what a coincidence."

"Indeed," Seraphina replied, "I was actually planning to reach out!"

Patrick's eyebrow quirked up at that.

Leaving the airport together, Seraphina got into Patrick's car.

Meanwhile, high above in the sky, Leandro received a satellite call.

"Mr. Reynolds, Mrs. Reynolds ran into Patrick at the airport. She said she needed to discuss something with him, and now they're headed back to the city together in his car."

Leandro gave a nonchalant response before returning to his newspaper.

Keen, who had been busy with travel

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plans and project strategies, felt a sudden chill and looked around, puzzled. Everything seemed normal; Leandro was still calmly reading his paper, his expression as coobas ever. What could be amiss?

"So, Mr. Gray, where are you coming from?" Seraphina asked, casually chatting as they drove through the city.

"I just got in from Moonhaven," Patrick responded. "Came back to handle some business."

Seraphina laughed, "I actually inquired about you a few days ago. Knew you were out of the country, so I didn't want to intrude."

"Whether I'm in or out of the country, you can reach me anytime," Patrick said with a smile.

She nodded, "Got it. I won't be shy next time."

"Which leads me to ask, what's this all about?" Patrick inquired after a brief pause.

Seraphina got straight to the point, "Considering your familiarity with the Martin family, what can you tell me about Lionel?"

Patrick's voice was cool, "Lionel was the closest to Simon because they think alike. The only difference is Lionel is even more ruthless. He was Simon's right-hand man."

Seraphina had sensed as much.

"Does he have any old acquaintances with the last name Lewis?"

"Lewis?" Patrick's eyes flickered, "I do recall one-Darleen Lewis."

"Darleen?" she paused, "Sounds like a lady's name."

"Indeed, a very successful woman. By the late '90s, she was a leading name in the architectural and interior design industry."

"And where is she now?"

"She's dead."

"How?"

"In a fire, during the renovation of an office building," Patrick explained.

"And her connection to Lionel?"

Patrick's voice remained steady, "Lionel and Darleen were close. But in this world, friendships are often more complex than they appear."Belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

Patrick exhaled slowly, his breath

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forming a misty trail in the cool air. "Back in the day, Lionel was the main man running construction projects for the Martin Group. So yeah, they worked closely together. When Darleen suddenly died in that blaze, the cops did look into Lionel."

"Come up empty-handed?" Seraphina inquired, arching an eyebrow. "What else then? Was there any other kind of connection between them?"

She didn't spell it out, but Patrick

seemed to have read her mind. He leaned back, his voice low and thoughtful. Those intimate details between a man and a woman, how much can outsiders really know? If you're asking whether they had a romantic entanglement, I can't give you a straight answer. But hey, Lionel's been a bachelor for all these years. Maybe that says something,

right?"

"He's not entirely alone," Seraphina corrected him. "He took in Darleen's daughter, Renee."

Patrick didn't seem surprised, just nodded slightly. "I've heard about it. But it looks like he's kept the girl under wraps, hardly any gossip has leaked

out."

"Was Darleen single or married when he met her?" Seraphina continued with her line of questioning.

"Divorced," Patrick replied, taking a sip from his coffee mug. "A divorced single mom, tough as nails, raising her daughter on her own."