Possessive Billionaire’s Twisted Hunt (Obsessed Billionaires, Cherished Brides #5)

Chapter 1 Christian Evans

The Manhattan sky loomed dark with heavy clouds, casting a somber gray over the city. A slow, icy wind curled through the streets, making pedestrians huddle deeper into their coats and scarves as they hurried along the sidewalks. Across the street, a small café stood, its wooden exterior glowing softly under the dim, yellow lights. Through the fogged-up glass windows, the cozy interior revealed three women sitting by a corner table, gazing outside as thick snowflakes layered the empty ground in a soft, white blanket.

“It’s snowing pretty heavily. We should close early today,” Stella muttered, resting her chin on her palm, her elbow propped lazily on the table. Her curls framed her delicate face, and she wore a snug sweater over a pair of jeans.

“Are you sure?” Ellie frowned, tucking a stray strand of her black hair behind her ear. “Maybe let’s wait and see if it stops. I’m waiting for Triston to come get me anyway since he wanted to introduce me to someone for work stuff. I’ll just tell him to come early.”

Stella nodded absentmindedly.

The last girl at the table, Ivy, was quiet. With soft brown hair tied up in a bun, a ribbon perched delicately on her head, and her flushed cheeks still pink from the cold, she looked like she had stepped right out of a cartoon. Her large brown eyes stared outside, lost in thought.

“Ivy?” Stella’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “Are you sure you won’t be coming around anymore? I know it’s your last day, but you don’t have to disappear completely.”

Ivy smiled, nodding. “I won’t,” she assured softly.

Stella nodded but didn’t quite believe her. In the months that Ivy had worked at Licious Café, she had always kept to herself. She rarely stayed to chat, never made small talk beyond what was necessary, and always seemed in a hurry. She arrived early, worked tirelessly, and disappeared the moment her shift ended.

As if she was afraid of making any connections.

Invitations for drinks? Declined. Dinners? Always politely refused.

Yet, Ivy’s rejections were so gentle that no one ever took offense.

Stella sighed, glancing outside. The sight of a couple embracing near the café made her groan. “Jesus, it’s so cold, and I just want to cuddle with someone so bad,” she mumbled dramatically, pressing her hands to her cheeks. Then she whined, “Why is dating so damn hard these days? None of the men out there put in any effort. It’s so annoying.”

“Agreed,” Ellie mumbled nonchalantly, dialing her husband, Sawyer's number on the phone. The moment the call connected, she said, “Hey, bring me a tub of ice cream before you come home—or don’t come home at all.”

There was a muffled response on the other end, to which Ellie scoffed. “I’m not calling you that’ Stop asking me again and again.”

Then Ellie’s face suddenly flushed a deep red. She shot Stella and Ivy a panicked look, as if they had just barged into her bedroom. She hurriedly pressed the hang-up button several times until the screen went black.

Stella shook her head in amusement before turning her gaze back outside. Watching the couple still wrapped in each other’s arms, she suddenly asked, “Have either of you ever been in a relationship where a man loved you so madly, so deeply, that it completely shook your life?” Her eyes flickered between Ivy and Ellie as she continued, “That kind of love that’s wrong in every way but so deep and intense that it ruins your whole existence?”

Ellie grinned. “Nah. My husband and I have been together since childhood. In his world, I rule.” The smug smile on her face made Stella snicker.

“I know. I’ve seen that.”

Ivy smiled but didn’t answer. She turned her gaze back to the snow outside, her heart whispering a truth no one else could hear.

‘I have.’

Five years sounded like a long time, but to Ivy, it felt like just yesterday.

She was twenty when she first stepped into Evans Holdings, one of the biggest construction firms in the country as an intern—wide-eyed, eager, and utterly unprepared for the storm that was about to consume her life.

No, it hadn’t just entered—it had burst through the doors, breaking every wall she had, filling every space in her existence.

Her first encounter with that storm had been at a bar across the street from Evans Holdings’ massive building. It was supposed to be a simple welcome gathering, a casual night out with other interns and seniors for introductions and casual networking.

She had sat quietly on the couch, dressed in her office clothes, surrounded by the chatter of colleagues. Drinks littered the table, laughter filled the air, and people exchanged stories about their best business deals and office mishaps.

Ivy didn’t have much to say. She was young, new, and mostly just listened.

“Why so quiet?” A man’s voice broke through the chatter.

Ivy turned slightly, stiffening as a man in his late thirties slid onto the couch beside her. Something about him put her on edge, a gut feeling she couldn’t shake.

She forced a polite smile but didn’t respond.

The man persisted, grabbing a glass filled with whiskey and handing it to her. “Here. Drink this.”

“I don’t want to drink right now.” She gently pushed the glass back.

The man’s face twisted with displeasure, his eyes narrowing. “Young girls like you have become so rude nowadays.” His voice turned sharp, condescending. “Look around you—everyone’s drinking. You’re the odd one out. This is disrespectful attitude for a new hire.”

He gestured toward the other interns, who were laughing, clinking glasses, and drinking freely with their colleagues.

Ivy’s shoulders stiffened further. The man’s stare bore into her like a drill, making her uneasy.

“Take it,” he barked, making her jump.

Caught off guard, Ivy instinctively reached for the glass.

His eyes gleamed with something she couldn’t name, but it sent a chill down her spine.

Hesitantly, she clutched her fingers around the glass.

“Go on.” The man clinked his own glass against hers. “Drink.”

Ivy’s fingers tightened around the cold glass. Her heart pounded in her chest. With a hesitant gulp, she lifted it to her lips—

BANG!

The sound of the bar doors bursting open cut through the noise like a gunshot.

Every head turned. The music didn’t stop, but the energy in the room shifted.

Ivy turned, too.

And then she saw him.

Christian Evans. The CEO of Evans Holdings, one of the richest billionaires in the country at just thirty years old.

Ivy had only ever seen glimpses of him before—once in the office, walking toward the private elevator, a towering presence no one dared to approach.

But now, standing there in the dimly lit bar, he was utterly captivating.

Tall. Powerful. Intimidating.

His sharply cut features were impossible to ignore. High cheekbones, a strong jawline, and a perfectly straight nose that only added to his effortless dominance. His dark hair was neatly styled, but a few strands had fallen out of place, giving him an edge of carelessness. His deep-set eyes, a stormy shade of black, were sharp yet held a quiet intensity, as if he saw everything and missed nothing.

The tailored black suit he wore molded to his broad shoulders, emphasizing his lean yet commanding frame. Everything about him spoke of control, power, and untouchable wealth.

Her breath hitched.

‘He’s so handsome…’ The thought slipped into her mind before she could stop it.

“Oh my god,” one of the interns squealed, grabbing onto her friend. “He’s so freaking hot.”

Christian’s sharp gaze scanned the bar.

And then—his eyes landed on her and they stopped moving.

Ivy froze.

His dark eyes were unreadable, yet they seemed to pierce right through her. For a second, it felt like he could see everything. Every thought in her head, every secret, every fear.

Her grip tightened around the glass in her hand as she quickly dropped her gaze, heart pounding against her ribs.

But when she glanced up again, he was still looking at her.

And then—he moved.

Striding straight toward her.

The bar buzzed with whispers.

“Oh my god, is that the big boss?” one of the girls whispered, her voice tinged with excitement.

Heads turned.

“Christian Evans? Isn’t he our CEO?”

“What’s he doing here? This is just a small welcome gathering.”

“Oh my god, he’s so fucking handsome.”

The squeals continued as whispers and gasps spread across the group.

“I’d let him ruin my life.”

“I never expected him to look even better than he does in magazines.”

“He does. Wow. I’m speechless. He’s gorgeous. And so freaking tall. He could lift me up, and I’d still be shorter than him.”

Ivy barely heard them, because Christian’s sharp, dark eyes had locked onto her. The voices around them blurred as Christian strode straight to her table. His presence sucked the air from the room.

Panic flickered through her chest. Why was he coming toward her? What was happening?

Then—before she could react—Christian reached the man beside her, the one who had been forcing the drink on her. Without a word, he grabbed the back of the man’s nape, yanked him off the couch and, in a swift, brutal move, threw him to the ground.

The man crashed onto the floor with a loud thud. A gasp rippled through the bar.

The man yelped as he hit the floor, scrambling in confusion. But Christian wasn’t finished.

Cold, ruthless, and utterly unbothered, he stormed forward and delivered a hard kick to the man’s stomach. The impact sent him reeling, groaning in pain.

“You’re fired,” Christian said, his voice as calm as it was deadly. “Get the fuck out of here.”

The man’s eyes widened in terror. He gasped, disoriented, struggling to breathe.

“S-Sir… what did I do? What’s wrong—?”

“Out!”

That single, low growl was all it took.

The man scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over himself as he rushed toward the exit.

Christian watched until he disappeared from sight before finally turning to the now silent table. His gaze then fell on Ivy again, and without hesitation, he walked over.

Before she could blink, he took a seat right next to her on the couch, his piercing eyes locking onto hers, intense, unblinking. And then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, he declared loudly, "Ivy Watson, I like you. From now on, only I can be your boyfriend."

Ivy was stunned.

The man who had women dying to catch a glimpse of him had just proposed to her in a room full of his employees. Her face flushed red as she looked around in embarrassment, but Christian, completely unfazed, didn’t look the least bit ashamed. It was as if this was the most normal thing for him to do.

She lifted her glass to take a sip, desperate for something to calm her nerves. But before the rim even touched her lips, Christian snatched it away, tossing the glass aside carelessly. It shattered on the floor, the sharp sound ringing in her ears.

Then, without a word, he picked up another glass, poured her a drink in a minimal amount, and turned to her fully. He held the glass out, his other hand gently pressing tissues into hers before offering her the drink.

"I'm Christian Evans," he said, his voice rough and low, his eyes never leaving hers. "You’re going to have to remember my name, Ivy."

The deep rasp in his voice, the unsettling closeness of his words, and the way he looked at her—everything about him was something she had never expected to experience. And yet, it made her shudder from the inside out.

Even now, years later, that same shudder coursed through her every time the memory of him surfaced in her mind.

"Goodbye, Stella," Ivy said with a small smile as she picked up her bag and headed toward the café door.

Five years had passed since that night. Five years since her first day of internship.

And now?

Now, she would never have anything to do with Christian Evans ever again.

She pushed the memory away and focused on the path ahead.

The entrance to Licious was just a few steps away. She had only worked there for three months, but the memories this place had given her were irreplaceable. She had no idea how to tell Stella and Ana that. She wouldn’t let herself get attached.

She had to leave anyway and never see them again—so what difference did it make?

Her steps carried her toward the exit. As she reached for the door, someone walked in at the same time, and she collided straight into him.

Her forehead hit a firm chest, and she stumbled back, losing her balance. But before she could fall, a strong arm wrapped around her waist, catching her.

Instinctively, her fingers instinctively clutched the collar of the stranger’s shirt, holding on for stability.

When the expected pain never came, she hesitated before slowly opening her eyes.

And then she blinked.

Christian.

The same eyes. The same face. The same look he always had when he saw her.

A ghost from the past standing right in front of her.