Obsession in Bloom

Engfa Waraha couldn't stop thinking about Charlotte Austin.

It was absurd, really. Why would a woman like her—a woman who had everything she could ever want—spend her time thinking about someone so... unassuming? Someone who clearly belonged to the background, the type of person who was comfortable being unseen. And yet, there was something about Charlotte that had stuck in her mind ever since that brief exchange at the gallery.

As Engfa sat in her sleek, modern office the next day, she couldn't shake the feeling. Charlotte's calm, poised demeanor had intrigued her—challenged her even. And when Charlotte had held her gaze, not breaking under the pressure of Engfa's icy stare, Engfa had seen something else: a spark of defiance, a sense of independence that hadn't been immediately obvious in their brief interaction.

The sound of her phone ringing interrupted her thoughts. She picked it up without looking, knowing exactly who it was.

"Engfa, darling, you've been quiet. You need a distraction," the voice on the other end of the line purred. It was her best friend, Priya, ever the socialite and matchmaker.

"What do you want, Priya?" Engfa asked, the boredom clear in her voice. She wasn't in the mood for games, but then again, Priya had a way of making everything sound like a game.

"Oh, I've been hearing things," Priya continued. "About a certain assistant at a gallery. Name's Charlotte Austin, right? She's been causing quite a stir in the art world."

Engfa raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her chair. "Charlotte Austin?"

"Yes, yes. She's new to the scene. But she's already making waves with her... charm. Quite the intriguing creature, if you ask me. And you always like a challenge." Priya's voice was playful but knowing. "But I have to admit, I'm more curious than ever. You haven't taken much interest in anyone recently..."

A smile tugged at Engfa's lips, though her expression remained cool. "I don't take interest in 'anyone,' Priya. People are just tools. The world is a game. And if you can play it right, you can have anything."

Priya chuckled on the other end. "Tell me, darling, would you like to have Charlotte?"

A dangerous flicker sparked in Engfa's chest. She didn't know why, but the idea of possessing Charlotte Austin felt like an itch she needed to scratch.

"What if I told you I could make her fall for me?" Engfa asked, her voice suddenly low, serious. She was no stranger to getting what she wanted, whether through charm, persuasion, or sheer force of will.

Priya laughed, but it wasn't a teasing laugh. It was one full of challenge. "Oh, I like this idea. I'll bet you can't do it in less than a month. And you can't use your money or influence to win her over. Just you... and your charming self."

Engfa's lips curled into a smirk. The bet was on.

"I'll take that bet," she said, her voice smooth, like silk on steel. "One month, and she'll be mine. But if I win, I want something more than just bragging rights."

Priya's laughter was followed by a slight pause, as if she was considering Engfa's words. "Name it," she said, a little too eagerly.

"I'll let you know when I've won," Engfa said, hanging up the phone before Priya could respond.

Her eyes narrowed, already imagining Charlotte's face when she finally broke through her defenses. There was something about Charlotte's reluctance to fall into Engfa's world that only made the chase more thrilling.

Later that evening, Charlotte's apartment

Charlotte sat at her desk, a canvas in front of her, working on her latest piece. Her small apartment was a reflection of her life—simple, yet filled with subtle elegance. She liked it that way. It was her sanctuary. Her quiet place. It wasn't often she was able to retreat here, but tonight, she needed to get away from the noise of the gallery event.

But her mind kept drifting back to the same place: Engfa Waraha.

Charlotte had never encountered anyone like her. Powerful, calculating, almost predatory in her presence. Yet there was something about her that made Charlotte's pulse race. The way Engfa had looked at her, the way her voice—so calm, so collected—had left an indelible mark on her. It wasn't just her beauty; it was her confidence, her authority. Engfa had made it clear she didn't like being ignored. And Charlotte, who had always prided herself on being invisible, had felt the weight of her attention in a way that was both intoxicating and terrifying.

Charlotte's thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. She frowned. She wasn't expecting anyone. With a sigh, she stood up and opened the door to find a delivery man holding a bouquet of white lilies, her favorite flowers.

"No card," he said, looking slightly confused as he handed over the flowers.

Charlotte's brow furrowed. She took the bouquet and closed the door, examining the flowers in her hands. The gesture was strangely intimate—too intimate for someone she barely knew. She didn't want to admit it, but her pulse quickened as she inhaled the sweet fragrance.

She set the flowers down on the table and opened her phone, scrolling through her messages. Nothing out of the ordinary. No one else had sent flowers. No one, except for Engfa Waraha.

The realization hit her like a wave, and for the first time, Charlotte felt a sense of dread and anticipation build inside her.