Delusional Tormentor

By Celia Crown

A man, filthily rich and devilishly handsome, is most people's dream husband.

 

Money opens many doors, but it also closes many windows. He doesn't hesitate to use what he's earned to forge the best locks and chain the gilded irons around her.

 

She's the reason why he cleaned up his act; he wants her to be proud of him, to rely on him instead of running away.

 

Never again, he'd think.

 

He had terrorized her, put her mind through a limbo of paranoia, and stalked under her skin until his haunting presence is inscribed across her bones.

 

The restraining order had been lifted.

 

He's going to try again. And again. And again. And again, again, again—until she realizes a delusional, influentially wealthy man loves with everything he has.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Celia Crown
• Release date: Apr 17, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223722960

Book preview

DELUSIONAL TORMENTOR

____________________

CELIA CROWN

Copyright © 2021 by Celia Crown.

All rights reserved.

This book is a work of fiction.

The book or any portion of the book may not be reproduced or used under any circumstances, except with the written permission from the author. Public names, movies, televisions, locations, or any references are used for atmospheric purposes. Any similarities and resemblances to alive or dead people, events, brands, and locales are all complete coincidences.

Contents

Delusional Tormentor

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Epilogue

Afterword

More Books

Delusional Tormentor

By Celia Crown

A man, filthily rich and devilishly handsome, is most people’s dream husband.

Money opens many doors, but it also closes many windows. He doesn’t hesitate to use what he’s earned to forge the best locks and chain the gilded irons around her.

She’s the reason why he cleaned up his act; he wants her to be proud of him, to rely on him instead of running away.

Never again, he’d think.

He had terrorized her, put her mind through a limbo of paranoia, and stalked under her skin until his haunting presence is inscribed across her bones.

The restraining order had been lifted.

He’s going to try again. And again. And again. And again, again, again—until she realizes a delusional, influentially wealthy man loves with everything he has.

Chapter One

__________

Jenny

Some days are better than others.

Some days I don’t wake up with my heart pounding, a layer of cold sweat clinging to my body, and his face staring down at me from the white ceiling.

Today is not one of those lucky days.

I saw him in repeated nightmares, his attractive face lurking behind my eyelids as I tried to will him away. I heard his amused baritone whispering my name with such adoration that it made me feel sick.

Don’t be afraid, pretty girl.

I spent thirty minutes dry-heaving when I woke up.

The rest of the day hasn’t been any better. He’s everywhere I look, stalking across my mind with his haunting presence.

If I had more willpower, maybe I wouldn’t anxiously look out the window at the nearby man on a skateboard and briefly mistake him for the one who terrifies me.

I have to admit I’m doing much better than when I first arrived here. I couldn’t leave the confines of my apartment for the entire first month; my roommate was an angel who put up with my paranoia.

Audrey didn’t ask any questions, offered to split the grocery bill as she did all our shopping, and never brought home any of the men she swooned over.

She’s an open book: a broke college graduate with a degree she can’t use to find a job, an emotional mess when a man breaks her heart, and a good friend who sometimes snorts when she laughs.

Audrey is just a girl living her life to the fullest. I try, but my fear of that man never fades enough to let me feel free.

Miss Tutor? I hear a familiar voice coming from behind me.

I blink in relief before turning to face a boyish grin. I smile back, then flick a wary glance toward the window.

That man isn’t here. He will never find me on a tourist-filled island where I can easily blend into the partying crowd.

Sorry, I mumble, clearing my throat. I didn’t sleep much last night and just got distracted.

You need to sleep, so you don’t get dark circles under your eyes, the boy says. You’re not going to be cute anymore.

He’s a flirtatious fifteen-year-old boy, but he means no harm. It’s part of his charm; when I first met him, he curtsied and greeted me with a medieval title.

This island paradise has some unusual residents, far different than those I met as a child when I vacationed with my mother.

My heart twists painfully. Mom thought I should leave the city I grew up in, saying a fresh start would do me good.

I still call her despite the time difference, but the detective on my case says it is unwise.

He tried to warn me and gave me tips on protecting myself as a stalking victim. I carefully followed his advice but gave into homesickness after three months away and ignored his security precautions.

Somehow, irrational choices felt rational to me.

I called Mom, and she picked up the phone while sobbing my name.

Was it a mistake to call? I don’t know, but I don’t regret doing it.

I’m happier now that I feel connected again. I’m finally moving on from that frightening experience, and I swear to return home one day. I can’t leave Mom by herself; she doesn’t do well with loneliness.

Dad made some mean chicken adobo; want to stay for dinner? he asks, tapping his mechanical pencil on the table. I’ll convince Dad to cough up the family recipe.

So, you can make it yourself? I question with a chuckle. I’m not going to be your partner in crime and contribute to the destruction of the kitchen. Your dad takes pride in that place.

True, the boy agrees. He’s got twenty cutting boards, yet somehow doesn’t have a single cheese grater.

Let’s call it a day, I suggest while I scan his math homework. I’m sure you’re dying to try out the new game.

I blame you for showing it to me. He groans, tossing the pencil down to stretch his arms over his head.

It’s addicting, I concur as I nod.

As I stack my notebooks and shove them into my worn backpack, his father knocks on the door to get our attention.

Hey, Jenny! he greets toothily. You’ve got to try dinner this time; it’s perfection on a plate.

I can’t stay, Mr. Maja, I politely decline with a sheepish smile. Audrey said she was making dinner at home tonight.

Oh! The man’s eyes light up at her name. How did she like the food last time?

Mr. Maja is a kind man who makes extra food when I tutor his son. He feels guilty for using my time off to help improve the boy’s miserable grades.

She’d be willing to shave her eyebrows to have that meal again, I relay her words to the cackling man.

Let me pack some for you to take home, he offers and runs off before I can decline.

Yeah, the boy mutters as he leans back in the chair. Good luck telling him you don’t want his food. It’s freaky the way he mopes around.

It can’t be that bad.

He rolls his eyes, standing up to walk me to the door. You don’t have to live with him, but I have to suffer through it. Maybe you want to join us; Stepmom Jenny has a nice ring to it.

It does not, I scowl lightly as I laugh at his cheeky grin. I’m only twenty-four. Being a mom is the last thing on my mind.

What about being a wife? His brows lift suggestively.

You’re too young for me.

I was talking about my father! But okay, I’ll just wait until I’m eighteen to sweep you off your feet.

Shouldering my backpack, I lightly flick his forehead as he whines about the nonexistent pain.

If you put half the effort into studying that you do into flirting, your dad wouldn’t be so stressed.

Eh, he quips, shrugging effortlessly. It’s not a big deal. He stresses about his basil leaves wilting.

His father’s heavy footsteps thump across the floor, stopping in front of us with a bag of delicious-smelling food.

Come on, Mr. Maja urges while he shoves the bag into my hand. I want you and Audrey to eat while it’s still piping hot.

I bid goodbye to his son while Mr.