The storm had passed, but its echoes lingered in the air.

Julian Thorne stood on the balcony of his penthouse, the city glittering beneath him like the empire he had nearly lost. The skyline was jagged with power, fierce and unrelenting, and yet the only thing grounding him in that moment wasn't steel or glass, it was the woman sleeping inside.

Anya.

She had turned his world upside down, cracked open the ice that had encased his heart, and filled the void with color and fire. She was reckless, infuriating, intoxicating and his. Entirely his.

He had thought victory would feel different. Cold. Ruthless. Like every boardroom conquest before. But this victory, the one that mattered, was warm, alive, pulsing with heat. It wasn't about crushing a rival or protecting his throne. It was about her. Keeping her safe, keeping her his, no matter the cost.

Julian stepped back inside. Anya stirred in the silk sheets, lashes fluttering as she looked up at him with sleepy defiance. Always defiance.

"You're watching me again," she murmured, voice husky.

He smirked. "Always. I like what's mine where I can see it."

She rolled her eyes but smiled, stretching like a cat. "Possessive."

"Obsessive," he corrected, sliding into bed beside her. His hand curved possessively over her hip, staking his silent claim. "And don't forget it."

Her fingers traced the line of his jaw, lingering on the scar he'd once been ashamed of. "Then we're both guilty," she whispered. "Because I'm not letting you go either."

For the first time in years, Julian felt something that resembled peace. But just as he pulled her close, a soft vibration hummed on the nightstand. His phone lit up, a single message glowing like a warning flare in the dark.

You think you've won. But empires fall. And yours will burn.

Julian's jaw tightened, eyes narrowing. He locked the phone, then pulled Anya closer, lips brushing her temple. He would not let the shadow of an unseen enemy take this from him.

"Let them come," he murmured into her hair. "They have no idea what they're up against."

Anya's hand gripped his, a silent vow. Together, they faced the city, the empire, the desire that bound them. Whatever reckoning awaited, it would not break them.

Because empires could fall. But obsessions... obsessions endured.

I write awkward, messy, and ridiculously funny romances think tripping over feelings, accidental kisses, and chaos that somehow turns into love. Warning: may cause binge-reading and uncontrollable laughter.