Mrs. Lyla And Her Obsession

Chapter 1

Alone In The World.

Lyla Atelo.

I screamed in excitement when I read the email that I had been nervous about. I was accepted! As a teacher! In Oakwood Academy!

I fished out my phone from my purse to call my husband—he would be so proud of me—while my other hand tightened on the steering wheel as I swerved past a stream of cars, heading straight to my best friend's house. This was a cause for celebration.

My call went straight to voicemail twice, earning a frown on my face, but I didn't bother about it so much. Maybe he was busy at work as usual.

I pulled up in front of my best friend's mini mansion, and the gateman let me in because… she's my best friend, duh. I was so giddy with excitement that I didn't bother about parking the car in the garage. Once I was out of the car, I was speeding towards the front door with my phone in hand.

How would she react? Would she scream like I had done? I mean, she was the one who encouraged me to give it a try… I stood in front of the door and took a deep breath before raising my hand to knock on the black wooden door.

I heard footsteps on the other end, and I readied myself, smiling so hard while pointing the email on my phone towards the door. It would be the first thing she sees when she opens the door.

One, two seconds, and the door swung open.

"Lyla…"

I felt my entire body freeze. His voice… How could it be? It couldn't be possible… He couldn't be here. He could have told me when he came back to the country.

I could be mad. Or my eyesight could really be poor because it was my husband who was standing in front of me. I took in his form. His golden-colored skin was covered in what seemed to be sweat. The only clothing on his body was his briefs, and his facial expression… Was that guilt? Fear?

My mind worked on countless possibilities, but only one stood out glaringly.

"Michael…" I felt the tears slip from my eyes. How did my happiness turn to this from a moment ago?

"Lyla… Listen…" He said a little hurriedly, looking back inside the house as if scared that my best friend would come out. “I know this looks weird, but I promise you that I have a very good explanation for this.”

“Explanation?” I felt my chest tightening. It was difficult to breathe. “I haven't seen you in SIX YEARS, Michael! Lying to me that you've been busy at work! I waited for you. I…" My voice faltered because I didn't know what to say next. “But here you are… cheating on me with Kendra!”

“Babe… Listen to me…" He seemed to be getting angry. “I know I'm oddly dressed right now, but if you go back home, I'll dress up and come there and explain everything to you. Stop being so dramatic. Why would you even accuse me of doing such a lowly thing? Don't you trust me enough?”

The way he spoke made me hesitate. Was I reading too hard into things? Did he have a good explanation for this? I mean, the man I married wasn't one to cheat. He was super religious.

"Babe… Did you get the door? Who is there? Do we have a visitor?” The soft and feminine voice from inside was all it took to throw my hesitation out of the window.

His eyes widened for a fraction of a second, and I laughed bitterly at myself. Suddenly, the email didn't mean anything to me again. Nothing made sense to me. Only the hollow feeling in my chest that threatened to rip out my heart at this betrayal. Truly, it was those closest to your heart that could break it.

I gave him one last look before turning around, walking like a zombie back to my car.

"Lyla… I promise you, this is a complete misunderstanding.” He shouted from the front steps, not following me. “I will explain everything once I get home.”

Home? That looming house that he had built and left me in it for six years? It surely wasn't a home. It wasn't long before I backed the car out of Kendra's house and drove around aimlessly until I found myself where I would never have expected. The Sigil Nightclub.

**

"Something strong…" I shouted out loud at the bartender. The night was alive with music blaring from the speakers and bodies pressing against each other in the name of dancing, but none of that interested me. “Your strongest alcohol!” I yelled again to make my point.

The bartender, a slim and bald man, grimaced at my request before shaking his head and pouring me something to drink. I didn't wait for the glass to settle on the table before yanking it off his hand and downing it.

People said alcohol helped in situations like this, but all I could feel was hurt. In fact, the pain intensified further. Memories swarmed my head, and I couldn't believe how stupid I was these past few years.

"Another!” I slammed the glass on the table and pushed it to him.

He did the needful... And I kept downing more and more glasses until it was yanked away from me. My head turned so hard and fast that I almost had a whiplash, and my eyes were met with a set of intensely dark eyes…like obsidian, but they weren't looking at me right now. The man hovered over me protectively while speaking to the bartender. I didn't hear what he said; my thought process was muddled, and I was solely focused on the way his sensual lips moved.

The way his slender fingers softly gripped my shoulders, holding me in place before I could tumble over…it stirred something deep inside me, something I hadn't felt in a really long while. I leaned into him to get a better look at him, and that was when he looked down at my face, and my breath hitched.

If there was a phrase like 'devastatingly handsome,' this man in front of me was the perfect definition of it.

"It seems you've had a lot to drink, woman.” I could have been offended by the way he called me, but the huskiness in his voice and the intensity of his gaze made my throat go dry, and I licked my bottom lip unconsciously.

And maybe it could have been the trick of the light, but I could swear his eyes darkened. The light squeeze on my shoulder could have also been a trick of my mind.

"Who cares about how much I drink?” The words tumbled out of my mouth without restraint. “Absolutely no one.”

I struggled to stand up from the barstool, and I keeled over almost instantly. My head was headed directly towards the nearest barstool, but something in me told me my head wouldn't contact it.

The thick arms that wrapped around my waist were a testament to that. A jolt of electricity coursed through my entire body, and I felt myself shiver in wanton pleasure. When was the last time I had felt this way? On my wedding night? That was a really long time ago…

But this man behind me… how did he make me feel this way? Perhaps it was just the alcohol… But there was more to it as I felt more of his warmth with my backside pressed into his body.

"We have to get you home, woman…" He whispered yet again into my ears. “This is no place for a woman like you.” His fingers tucking my hair between my ears. The brush of his fingers against my ear sent another ripple of pleasure inside me.

"I don't have a home, man.” I tried giving him a clapback but failed miserably.

He flipped me over to face him, searching my eyes, and I was once again struck by this man with high cheekbones and arms so strong that I felt a strange sense of protection in them. Another thing I hadn't felt in a while…

“You do… And I'm going to get you there tonight.”

My adult senses didn't tingle to tell me he could be a bad person, or worse, a trafficker… I mean, even if he were, it wouldn't matter, would it? I would gladly follow this hunk of a man anywhere… People that mattered to me didn't exist to me anymore—my parents, my husband, and my best friend.

I was alone now, and I wasn't concerned about my safety when I followed this man out of the club as he led me steadily by my waist.

And there was something at the back of my mind that told me this night was going to be hot. For the first time in years, I was going to make the most out of this night.

Chapter 2

I Would Never Cheat On You.

Lyla Atelo.

If anything else shocked me, it was the fact that this stranger insisted on driving me home.

"You don't have to bother," I tried to talk him out of it, but a smirk creeped up his face.

"You can barely walk without falling over." He seemed proud of himself.

My p*ssy was sore, and at the same time, satisfied. I blushed slightly and turned away from him. The alcohol in my system had cleared and I was mortified. I couldn't face him, and he seemed to know that.

"I can manage myself, thank you." I smiled and tried stepping past him when my legs finally gave way, throwing me directly to the ground.

He didn't catch me this time. Instead, he bent low and picked me up from the ground.

"Stop being stubborn, woman!"

I pushed against his chest immediately. "Stop calling me that! I have a name, you know."

"