Her Obsession (by Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 76

Her Obsession.

How Ghosts Hunt.

Conner

:

The server room buzzed low with fans and quiet keystrokes. Sage sat beside me, her posture deceptively casual, though I could see her eyes locked on every flicker of Liam’s feed. Matteo leaned against the wall, arms crossed, unreadable as ever, while Nico spun lazily in his chair like this was a game of Mario Kart and not real life.

Naomi had the comms, and Jesus Christ, she was having the time of her life.

“Left foot first, handsome,” her voice purred over the speaker, guiding Liam down a narrow alley. “No, no, softer. Pretend you’re sneaking into my room at midnight with your shirt off.”

On the feed, Liam muttered something under his breath that was mostly curse words, but he still adjusted his step.

“Oh my god,” Nico laughed, slapping the desk. “She’s trolling him.”

“Focus,” Sage snapped, though I saw the edge of her mouth twitch.

“Alright, good boy,” Naomi teased again as Liam ducked under a fire escape. “Now give me a little spin, make it sexy…”

“Naomi,” Liam hissed. “This isn’t a bloody talent show.”

The room chuckled, tension eased for just a heartbeat. But then Naomi’s tone shifted, silk gone, steel snapping into place.

“Targets ahead. Window, second floor. Two guards posted by the stairwell. You’ve got ninety seconds to clear the path before the rotation.

Move clean. No noise.”

Just like that, the joking stopped. Liam’s breathing steadied in the feed, shoulders squaring as he ghosted into the stairwell. The silence on comms was sharp, surgical, until the muted thud of bodies hitting concrete followed.

“Good,” Naomi murmured, softer now but all business. “Now take him. Quiet. Quick.”

We all watched as Liam slipped through the window, the camera catching the flash of his knife before the target slumped. Efficient. Controlled. No mistakes.

Sage leaned closer to the screen, eyes narrowed and then nodded once. “Clean.”

Naomi’s satisfied hum filtered through the comms. “See? I told you my boy could learn.”

Liam’s voice came back dry as dust. “Not your boy.”

“Sure you’re not,” Naomi purred, and the feed cut.

The room exhaled as one, but my chest didn’t loosen. If anything, it tightened. Because now, all eyes shifted toward me. My mark. My

turn.

I stood, rolling my shoulders, feeling Sage’s gaze track me like a hawk. She didn’t speak, but she didn’t have to. I could feel her in my ear already, the weight of her expectations, her precision.

1/3

12:49 Mon, Oct 20

How Ghosts Hunt

“Alright,” I said, reaching for my gear. “Let’s go remind them how ghosts hunt.”

Liam’s mark was already in the bag. Naomi was still buzzing about it, perched on the edge of the desk like she’d orchestrated a Broadway

show instead of a hit.

Sage, though, she was quieter. Pale under the glow of a dozen screens, stitches pulling tight at her side but still leaning forward, intent, fingers ghosting over the feeds. She didn’t even look up when I crossed the room.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I said.

“I’m not missing this,” she shot back, not even blinking.

Christ. I grabbed one of the blankets draped over the chair, shook it out, and wrapped it around her shoulders before she could protest. She stiffened for half a second, then sank into it, eyes still on the monitors.

“You’re freezing,” I muttered.

“I’m fine.”

“Bullshit. You’re half dead, you need rest. I don’t want to come back from this hit and find you keeled over in here like some goddamn martyr.” I crouched in front of her, forcing her to meet my eyes. “When I walk back in that door tonight, I expect to find you in bed.

Understood?”

Her mouth curved into that smirk that always spelled trouble. “You sound like you’re giving orders, darling.”

“I am,” I growled. “You want me alive tonight? Then you give me this, just this one thing. You’re in bed when I get home.”

For once, she didn’t argue. Just reached up, caught my wrist in her small hand, and squeezed. “Then don’t be late.”

1 kissed her forehead, hard enough to seal it like a vow, then straightened. Matteo gave me a cocky grin from across the room, Naomi dangling her legs like an amused cat.

“Ready, boss?” he asked.

“Ready,” I said, even though part of me was dying to stay here, wrapped in a blanket with a ghost who never stayed put.

The night air was sharp enough to sting my lungs, the kind of cold that made the city feel alive and predatory, I slipped into the driver’s seat of the SUV, checked the gear twice, and started toward the mark’s location. The hum of the engine, the static of the comms, it all blended into one steady rhythm.

“Audio check,” Nico’s voice crackled.

“Clear,” I answered, adjusting the earpiece.

Then came her voice. My ghost. Soft but sharp, cutting through the static, “Alright, darling. Keep left at the next junction. Don’t take the main street, the cameras on Seventh are patched to a private loop. You’ll stand out.”

I tightened my grip on the wheel, the corner of my mouth twitching despite myself. She was supposed to be in bed, but her voice steadied me. “Copy that.”

2/3

12:49 Mon, Oct 20

How Ghosts Hunt.

“Two blocks up, there’s a service alley, Park there. The mark’s apartment overlooks the east side, floor twelve. You’ll take the freight entrance; keypad’s old, six–digit manual. Code is 3-9-1-4-7-2. Don’t make me repeat it.”

Her confidence was liquid fire in my blood. She didn’t waver. Not once.

I killed the engine in the shadows of the alley, tugged the hood low, and slipped out. Boots silent on wet asphalt. Every sense alert.

“Door ahead, thirty meters,” she whispered in my ear. “Camera blind spot at the top corner, three seconds to cross. Go now.”

I moved. Smooth, quick, invisible.

76

Inside the building, the air smelled like rust and oil. Freight elevators groaned somewhere in the guts of the place. I climbed instead, my breath even, my hands steady. Sage’s voice was my compass, my anchor.

“Twelfth floor. Corridor’s clear. Mark’s office is on the left. He’ll be working late, he always does, buried in those files. Lights are still on. Conner…” Her tone dipped, serious now. “Clean. Silent. Make it mine.”

“Yours,” I promised. And I meant it.

Chapter Comments

7

Write Comments

S