Obsession Millionaire

internet trying to fnd someone who can cooperate with this because there's no way I'm calling any woman I know. They would confuse the whole damn thing. They would think it was indirect, that I wanted to ask them

to marry me and I made a "joke". I don't understand women's minds, no one does, not even them; but I can bet.

that it would happen. So, when I've been browsing for too long searching, my cell phone beeps with a notifcation. I take it to see, opening the messages from my friend Samuel. He swears at me in greeting and

asks if I forgot that today is the day for him to choose his wedding suit. Yeah, I actually forgot. I leave the notebook with my search aside and get up to go fnd my very passionate friend, who sends a photo with our

other friends, all giving me the middle fnger. I smile. Two of us have already gotten screwed in this wave of love; my turn I pass with fying colors. I prefer to pretend. It's better to deceive my father with a false bride

than to see myself trapped forever, forever, by someone's side. I'm out. Chapter 1 Victoria 10:42h Where are you? 10:51am I saw that you are online. Answer me at 11:03 am You won't answer me, right? I'll go there then

11:04h I'll fnd your new address and you'll see me 11:04h whether you want it or not 11:05h you do the shit and you want to disappear ______________________________________ My eyes wander over the messages sent

earlier and I take a deep breath many times – so many times when possible in an attempt to calm down. He couldn't fnd it, could he? He's not even from the police! Only authorized personnel can collect addresses,

right? Of course you do, Victoria. Stop worrying. I get up from the sofa and go to the window, pulling the curtain a little and watching the activity on the street. I don't think he'll fnd me here, in a place so full of people. And I'm no longer recognizable. Now I have brown hair, not black. Apparently, I'm thinner too, as I'm

having to buy new clothes in smaller sizes. The cause of this? Probably the days I spent eating soup to save.

money for the rent on the new house: in another neighborhood, far away from it, trying to feel free again. And I

also got two tattoos. On the left thigh and another on the right shoulder. I'm no longer the Victoria I was months ago. Months in which I was still close to him, in that relationship that suddenly became suffocating. I

suffocate. And that's all we had, that's what I realized later. When I met Jacob that rainy morning at a bus stop

before going to work and he offered me company under his umbrella, I could not have imagined that this man would later be so inconvenient, with distorted ideas. I thought about refusing the offer to be with him

escaping the rain, after all, he was an unknown man at a bus stop. There was only him. And me. I also tried to take into account that he looked strange. I don't know if it was his appearance, his look, the combination of

the two with emphasis on that cap he was wearing and which made a statement together with the large and apparently heavy jacket that covered his body. But, at frst, he didn't give an impression of comfort being.

around him. Then I remembered that my mother was the one who used to judge people by their appearance and I ignored that – my instincts. I went under his umbrella and we started talking. Jacob didn't seem very

friendly at frst. He told me to be careful when I stepped on his sneakers, to stay still so he didn't get too wet.

and to stop rubbing his arm too much, which bothered him. That was very uncomfortable and I made any excuse, going to the other spot where there was a seat, to get away from him. Then he grabbed my arm,

smiled and apologized. He said he was having a bad day and offered me his umbrella so I could be alone –

which I didn't accept, of course. But I accepted his apology, which was my biggest mistake. I should have run

away, but since I don't have a crystal ball, I really thought it was the result of a bad day on his part. We started

talking calmly and, carried away by the moment, I ended up giving him my number when he asked me. He said

he had recently moved and friends of his had stayed behind. That's what life as an adult means, renouncing

yourself, he explained. Real friends don't take the time to see each other, I should have paid attention to that.

But I didn't. I gave my number and we started chatting on WhatsApp. Because of my work, a photographer for PEARL, a famous and acclaimed magazine, it took me a while to say yes to his invitations for dates. Until it

fnally happened. On a Friday night, when I just wanted to relax, we went to a bar. We talked, laughed, drank.

danced and kissed. And then came another date and another, several more until I was asked to be his girlfriend. It was more of a normal relationship until the third month, when Jacob started wanting to know who

was texting me, asking to see my cell phone, asking when I was going to give him a copy of my house key.

also insisting on knowing if I didn't. I trusted him, and that question always scared me, because I didn't trust

him like I thought. And whenever I refused any of these things or hesitated too much, he became irate. He once pulled the cell phone out of my hand so hard that it hurt. And since that day, I had to hide my applications and avoid talking about very personal topics on WPP. When I realized, I was already feeling

trapped, almost hanging in the will of a man I didn't love and who gave me nothing but fear. I said I wanted to finish, he accepted. All at peace, were his words. I was relieved, but within a few days I started receiving

messages that my wpp was being registered on another device. Many times. Over 60. I knew it was him,which alarmed me. The worst moment was going to work. I always had the impression that I was being.

followed. I couldn't stay in that house anymore, with Jacob knowing where I was, so I moved out. Just like his

friends, very far from him. I have more difculty getting to work, it takes me longer, but I'm trying to find freedom again. The one I had before my path crossed with Jacob's. Chapter 2 Nathan - I'll do this for you -

Camila asks herself to correct the spreadsheet that she herself made mistakes, leaning over my desk to the point of throwing her ass in my face. And for a moment my focus stops being trying to fnd a cruel enough

model who wants to cheat on my father with me and starts being my hot secretary who always wants to give it to me. What can I say? Camila has an endless fre and I'm not going to complain about that. It might be what

I really need: a fuck that makes me take everything my father says out of my head. You are a good son. I wantyou to be happy. What a joke. If he wanted me to be happy, he would have worried about it when I was a child,

not now, an adult and the owner of my own nose. I get up from my ofce chair and grab Camila's waist, just to turn her around and place her body on the table. Her smile guarantees my success and I undo it when I kiss

things are very clear when it comes to sex, causing and having pleasure. But then they distort when I come back to reality and realize that I'm going to have the weight of carrying my father's name, his companies and a spotlight that I didn't ask for. One word: fuck. - Oh, like that! To be continued! Quite a lot, ouch. Tasty. Nathan.

hm-hm... I let myself be carried away by Camila and her moans, her orgasm making me go faster, harder.

angrier, until I myself manage to reach my climax, squinting my eyes and feeling the condom to fll. - Oh! -

Camila sighs, stroking herself, a smile on her mouth as I pull out of her. - I love it when you fuck me hard.

What does it matter if I'm happy? Why does he care now? Because he will die, is a very easy answer. - I need

lunch - I say and quickly follow Camila to sit down, looking at me with disappointment as I get rid of the condom and tie it before heading to the bathroom in my ofce. - Go back to your seat, please. I don't want to

keep anyone waiting. But the thing is, I don't want to hear Camila's post-sex sighs and compliments. She has

that. Make me feel like the best guy in sex. Throw my ego up there. Which is cool, up to a point. Until the point

where she starts to bother her. At the end of the day, I don't go home. Nor do I accept Camila's invitation to go

to her dinner. I don't need more time with her. What we go through in the ofce is enough. As I enter the bar,

my cell phone notifes me of a new message. I pick it up to check it out while taking a seat on one of the

stools near the counter. I order a shot of whiskey, remembering Tina communicating that my father's health

complications were also triggered quickly by the large amount of alcohol he consumed. Screw this? I'm not him. As the bartender gets my drink, my view wanders to the cell phone screen. Samuel sent me a photo of

the new house, letting me know that I needed to attend the opening lunch. It's a law and I'll be arrested if I

don't go. This makes me smile. And it's not even because I want to make fun of my friend. I feel happy for him

and Ryan. Really. If they needed to fnd someone to complete them, great, they did well, may they always be

very happy. Which isn't my case, fortunately either. Alone I am free; alone there is no one waiting for me with a series of questions that demand why; alone I only decide for myself, I speak for myself, I think only about

myself and I don't have to worry about anyone else, just myself. And this thing about falling in love, creating

bonds, emotional and loving bonds with another person... NO. It seems more like a curse than a blessing. I

really don't want that. None of that. Let me be Nathan Russell, a good son and apparently not happy, and that's

fne. I confrm to Samuel that I am going to his housewarming, congratulating him on his new achievement, then I send him a photo of the drinks shelf in front of me; putting away cell phone when my whiskey is

brought. A good night, which the four of us friends would agree on back in the day. Chapter 3 Victoria I gave

myself the freedom to leave the house without caution. After all, I'm in a new, distant neighborhood, living in a new house, close to always busy streets; So I don't need to worry. Jacob would never fnd me. Unless he's

from the police. And he isn't. His job is in a factory operating machines and has nothing to do with the police.

Grounded and confdent in this certainty, I head to one of the bar stools. It's busy, but not busy enough like on a Friday around ten at night, for example. I ask the bartender for water with lemon, who leaves with a smile

and a "that's it"; A loud laugh next to me caught my attention. I look at the man in the suit, head slightly tilted

forward, moving the glass in his hands, his black hair falling forward as the sound of his laughter stops

echoing and he limits himself to a smile. It's not Jacob. Jacob has brown hair and is taller. And he also doesn't.

have a laugh like that, which is pleasant to hear. - Who comes to a bar to ask for water with lemon? - He

asks and his eyes come to meet mine. He's beautiful, I'm impressed. Despite being noticeably younger.

Straight dark hair, thick eyebrows and long eyelashes in a measured and perfect set with dark eyes. Perfection

exists, it seems. - I'll come - I reply, my throat dry. I want to believe that the walk from my house to here was

a bit long, but there's also the chance that I was moved by this man's beauty. Younger than me, for sure, but he is a mature man. Very well formed. - You don't drink alcoholic beverages? - he asks as if rambling. I clear my

throat. - I consume, but I want to stay sober. "Hm," he murmurs. - I understand. You don't want to drive drunk.

and also save yourself from accidents. Responsible woman. And that's the thing - he laughs -, women tend

to be more responsible. - That's what you're saying. He shakes his head, his eyes boring into mine and I get

goosebumps all over. It's an enigmatic look but at the same time it consumes me and sends me a telepathic.

message that I want you. Or maybe the message is mine. I'm wanting it. Which is not my fault. It's my body

speaking for me. I left Jacob, and even before that, we had nothing. As I noted: I just suffocate. I didn't want him, he wasn't looking for me. Even if he looked, I wouldn't want him. I don't know if I was betrayed, probably,

but I don't care. Right now, I don't care about anything because this man's physical beauty has caught my full

attention; younger and with penetrating eyes, he made me light up and remember that it had been a long time

since I was with someone. More than two years, which is understandable when you're single, but dating like I

was a year ago, it's strange to say the least. - Yeah - he nods. - I'm saying, yes - his body turns to face mine, my eyes restless in disturbance because his way of attracting is absurd. - My name is Nathan - he

introduces himself. - And you? I shake my head. I wouldn't like to introduce myself, but he's so... So. And he

left me feeling like sparks ran through my body. Have some respect for yourself, Victoria. You are a 29-year-

old woman, not a teenager who is taken by a guy's good looks. - I'm someone - I smile, thanking the bartender when he brings my water and I can solve my dry throat. - Ah - Nathan gives a broken laugh. - It's

okay, you don't need to tell me your name. She must be married, right? - he doesn't wait for an answer.

adding: - I didn't want to give a bad impression, sorry. And it didn't work, I almost say. I'm just disturbed by its beauty and the way I was awakened in silence. - I would also be very insecure if I were married to a beautiful

woman like you and saw her giving confdence to an asshole at a bar - he rambles again, making me look at

him after taking a few sips of my drink. His smile challenges me not to respond, which is impossible. - Do you

live here? - I decide to ask, looking for a more concrete subject area. If we're going to talk, let it be about

something irrelevant. - No - his face takes away some of the subtlety. He sips some of the drink in his glass,

his eyes becoming distracted ahead. - My father lives

decided to leave the house to clear my mind; but, if that's what it has, that's what it will be. - Depends on what you call attachment - he raises his eyebrows and turns his penetrating eyes to me. Maybe it's the contrast of

the long eyelashes and thick eyebrows that make her look so striking, but either way, it's a look worthy of all.

the attention. I divert mine, choosing to drink more lemon water. I feel more grounded doing this than facing.

him. - He called me to make one last request - Nathan says, not bothering to return to my question about attachment. - He wants to see me married, but, you know, I'm not going to do that shit just because he wants

me to. I look at him again. - You seem irritated - I comment. - Is he a rebellious son? He smirks, leaning

forward a little. Not much, just to the point of making my breath suspend for a millisecond due to the projection of the almost. It almost reaches me too close. - I'm a good son, my father said so himself - he

confdes in a low voice. - Were you a good daughter to your parents? It's a really weird question, but if I

wanted to know about him, it would be okay to answer that about myself. "Yes," I say. - I was always a good

daughter. My parents don't say that much, considering that it wasn't, and isn't, the easiest thing in the world to pay attention to seven children. But, it's noticeable, I think. That I'm a good daughter, I mean. - Seven? -

Nathan whistles. - Cum. This is what it means to enjoy populating the Earth. I laugh. A sincere laugh. Free.

Light. And it's the frst since I can remember after Jacob. - Yes, seven. I think in the past the pastime was dating. He smiled. - It should be - he agrees. - What's your hobby? - Ah - I say as if it were something.

banal to respond. - I'm a photographer, so I think this is my hobby: taking photos. - Don't you like anything.

else? He looks feetingly interested, which makes me smile. - Good yes. I like to try to paint the fowers I

photograph sometimes. I don't come close to real beauty, but I try. It's fun. "Real beauty," he repeats, his eyes

narrowing, as if examining me. - Like yours? - Mine? - I laugh again. - You are so pretty. Lovely. I'm pretty sure that's your name. Your parents saw you and had no doubt that it would be the perfect name for their

daughter, where all the beauty remained. Did I get it right? My laugh now is one of embarrassment. It was a lame thing for Nathan to say, but it's been a while since I've felt this light, and I've had someone firt with me,

so I have a free pass to embarrass myself and Nathan has a free pass to be lame. - No no. My name is Victoria. And only after saying it do I realize that I introduced myself without realizing it. Nathan -

Victoria - I repeat. - With that name, she was born victorious. The hot girl next to me lets out a murmur. I

didn't say the right thing or she completely disagrees with the words that left my mouth. Regardless of what it

was, I don't think it will be difcult to get her to my house in a few minutes. I'm needy is clearly written on her

forehead. Even though she makes a great effort to hide it, by not saying her name at frst, it's not like she shows disinterest. - You have brothers? - Victoria chooses to ask rather than scold me. - Only child. How

good, right? Imagine two, three or seven - I smile - children being raised by a father like mine, who didn't.

even remember he had a son. I came to the conclusion that he must hate my mother. - Why? - she fnds it

strange. - For putting me in the world and consequently in his life. - Oh - Victoria takes a moment to digest.

my answer and adds a question: - By the way, how is she dealing with the fact that her father is almost...

passing away? I smile. - I don't know, I don't know about her - I disdain. - He left, that's all he said to me

when I managed to fnd him to ask - I look at my empty glass, the glass suddenly looking interesting. - Not

that I care, I'm not going to blame an attitude that I don't understand. My father must not have been the best

husband either. Good father was not. I didn't try to fnd out if he was a good boss, but I know he was a good

businessman. He saved a lot of money and built an enviable estate. Victoria refrains from speaking until she decides to say: - To the point of forcing your mother to abandon her son... He really shouldn't be the best

husband. - Anyway, I wasn't a wanted son. For neither of them - I am convinced of what I say. - My father

must have asked her to disappear after I was born. Or rather, she must have left me with it, taken some money

and run away. Victoria has another moment of astonishment; but if things happened like this, it's not

surprising, really. My parents should not win a gold medal for what they did: me. I have more memories of

people who aren't even related to me than of them. From my father, actually. From my mother... I don't even

know who she is! I ask the bartender for another shot of whiskey and when he comes to fll my glass, I make

him leave me with the bottle. When my focus returns to the woman next to me, I see her clutching her cell

phone. Her face is tense and soon the device is discarded onto the counter with urgent disgust, Victoria

bringing the glass of lemonade to her mouth and pressing it to her lips, clinking her nails on the glass as her view freezes in front of her. - Did you receive news of another brother coming into the world? - I ask in an

attempt to relax. She looks at me immediately, almost startled, almost as if she's forgotten I'm next to her. -

What did you say? - She responds, her eyebrows furrowed. - You got tense after looking at your cell phone -

I gesture with my head to point it over the counter - I asked if it was because I received the news that you

were going to have a new brother. - Ah - she gives an awkward smile, shaking her head at the same time. -

That? It's nothing... - Isn't it? - I narrow my eyes. - I don't want to be a gossiper, because I'm not. But look at

us, at you - I smile into your glass of lemonade. - We're in a bar at the end of a weekday. It doesn't seem like

what we have out there is better than being here, with our glasses. So, if I may say so, this "it's nothing"

certainly doesn't exist for you. Victoria takes a deep breath, shaking her head in a kind of lonely denial. She

lets out another murmur, head down. - You're right - she breathes out. - It's not that it's nothing, but it's not

something that needs to be shared. It doesn't deserve to be divided. - Oh, without that! I don't care about

meritocracy in any situation. Tell me there. She looks at me and smiles, nodding once. - It was my ex - she

ends up saying, albeit quietly, as if telling me a