Guarded Obsession

Excerpt

Guarded Obsession
Brenda Murphy © 2026
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One

The gleaming steel elevator doors opened. Celeste waited a beat, sweeping her gaze over the interior of the car. Satisfied with her safety, she stepped inside. She swiped her key card and pressed the combination of buttons that led to Demure’s subbasement. As she descended, she smoothed her hands over the front of her skirt, checked the fit of her jacket, tugged her sleeves in place, and made sure her weapon didn’t ruin the line of her suit. Her black heels gleamed in the soft glow of the elevator lights.

The doors chimed open. As before, she paused a moment before exiting to assess the situation. Her gaze landed on Bridget, lead sub of Demure. She’d been a professional rugby player, and her thick shoulders tested the limits of her suit jacket. She sank to her knees as Celeste stepped out of the elevator. Celeste indulged herself studying Bridget’s angular profile and dark eyes shining in the fluorescent lights of the hallway before Bridget lowered her gaze.

“Welcome, Mistress Choi. Mistress Yvonne is waiting for you in her office. We’ve moved it since your last time here.” She lifted her hand toward the right hall off the elevator lobby. “It’s two doors down on the left.”

“Thank you, Bridget.” Celeste took a step forward and rested her hand on Bridget’s head. She swept her hand over her crewcut, teasing her finger over the crisp edges. A vision of their last session rose along with Celeste’s desire. “It has been a minute. Did you miss me?”

“More than I dare say, Mistress,” Bridget husked out.

Celeste took advantage of her position to study the rise and fall of Bridget’s chest. She tugged Bridget’s earlobe before pinching it hard. “Are you working all night?”

A visible shiver shook Bridget’s body. “I’m scheduled until eleven, Mistress.”

“Meet me in the blue room after your shift.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Celeste released Bridget’s ear, stepped past her, and took the right hallway. The wide steel door of Yvonne Li’s office was painted black. In the center of the door, the emblem of the club shone red and silver. She rapped on the door. It slid open to reveal a bookcase-lined office and Yvonne behind her desk.

“You didn’t ask who it was,” Celeste chided.

“I’ve watched your spectacular ass from the time you entered.” Yvonne gestured to the wall of video monitors behind her. “And Bridget would never allow anyone not scheduled to disturb me in my office.

Celeste studied the bank of monitors. “Adequate. But every system has blind spots.”

“That’s why I have Lindsey and Bridget and their crew.”

Celeste shifted her gaze back to Yvonne. “You didn’t ask me here to critique your club’s security. And from the absence of subs, nor for a playdate. Why am I here, Yvonne?”

“I need a favor.”

Celeste opened her suit coat before she eased herself into the leather chair across from Yvonne’s desk. “Favor?”

“I need your personal protection services.”

Celeste moved to the edge of her chair. “Didn’t you just tell me how much you trust Lindsey and Bridget and the others with your safety?”

“Not for me. Anyone who came after me would have to go through them. I trust them with my life and with the lives of my family. I need your services for someone else.”

Celeste leaned back in her chair. “No. Not no, but fuck no. I’m out of the business. Let me call one of my former associates for you.” A chill chased down Celeste’s spine. “What the hell, Yvonne?” She shoved away her annoyance with both hands. She studied the dark circles under her friend’s eyes. “Is someone after Mai?”

Yvonne shook her head. “No. A dear friend.”

“Friend?”

“Sub.”

“Is she one of yours? Why can’t Lindsey handle it?”

“Because it’s beyond her expertise. I need someone with international experience.”

Celeste raised her gaze to the ceiling before bringing it back to Yvonne. “I’ll get you some names.”

“Damn it, Celeste, I don’t need names. I need you.” Yvonne’s eyes blazed fire. “She’s in danger. Has no idea how much. She is delulu and thinks I’m overreacting.”

Celeste huffed out a breath and rubbed the back of her neck. “I know you and Sally have an agreement, but you seem very invested in this woman.”

“What Sally and I have is none of your business. Yes, I am invested in her survival. Look, are you going to help me or not?” Yvonne pushed her hair back with her hand. “I’m not going to beg but you’re the only person for this job. Please. I am asking as your friend and as one Mistress to another.”

Celeste lifted a shoulder. “Look, you got me out of more than one jam. But my credentials are not up to-date. I let it all go after that mess with the Burlingtons. I’m not—”

“This is off the books.” Yvonne drew her fingers over a dark-blue file folder on the desk.

Celeste squinted. “Protection off the books? Who did she kill?”

“No one. But some people have spent and will spend a large portion of their lives behind bars because of her.”

“Drugs? I don’t fuck with drug cartels.” Celeste smoothed her fingers over the hem of her short skirt.

“You mean you don’t anymore.” Yvonne held her gaze.

“Water under the bridge. So, what is it?”

“Art.”

“Art?”

She was a key witness in an international art fraud case.”

“And?”

“And in the last nine months, six members of the prosecutor’s office and investigative team involved with the case have died under suspicious circumstances. Car accidents, falls from high places, or simply vanished. On the surface it seems like a series of coincidences.” Yvonne leaned back in her wheelchair.

“So let the feds handle it.” Celeste shifted in her seat.

Yvonne lifted a perfectly shaped brow. “Are you high? Did you hear what I said? Might as well put a target on her back if the feds get involved.”

Celeste squirmed under Yvonne’s withering gaze. “It’s not— I don’t think—”

“Forget it. Get out.” Yvonne spun her wheelchair around, showing Celeste her back. Icy waves of anger radiated from her. Celeste studied the set of her shoulders. Yvonne had remained her friend when others had walked away, helped her when no one else would. Yvonne stood up to a powerful family on Celeste’s behalf and won. She owed her a debt she never expected to be able to repay.

Celeste stood and rounded the desk. “Hey. Look at me.”

“I don’t want to see your face. I believed you when you said you would do anything for me. For eight years I haven’t asked you for a damn thing.”

Guilt pricked Celeste’s skin. She shoved aside her fear. “I’ll do it.”

Yvonne kept her head turned from Celeste’s face. “No. I don’t need your pity. Nor resigned agreement. Get out. Leave me to think.”

“No. I’m not leaving. You said no one else can do this job. Let me do this. Sorry, I said no. You know why.”

“I do. And I’ll tell you now what I did then. None of it was your fault. Your client lied to you. Deliberately disobeyed your instructions. Her death was her own doing. I wouldn’t ask for your help if I didn’t think you are the one person who might be able to keep Lou safe.”

“Lou? Fuck boi Lou?” Celeste stepped back and away from Yvonne.

Yvonne spun her chair to face Celeste. “Don’t slut-shame. Yes, Lou. She is a flirt. As you have witnessed, no doubt. But she is the least promiscuous person I know.”

Celeste rested her hands on her hips. “She’s a trust fund baby. She could afford all the protection she needs. Why is this your responsibility?” She cocked her head. “Is she yours?”

“As much as she is anyone’s.” Yvonne rubbed her hands together. “She started coming here as a fresh-faced twenty-three-year-old, a fine arts graduate student, green as hell.”

“You trained her? Were you her first Mistress?” Celeste squinted, trying to imagine Yvonne with a butch sub.

“No. Not my type. But I arranged for others to teach her protocol, safety, and consent. She’s evolved into a sub who makes every Mistress she ever scened with hungry for more. She’s skilled in all the right ways, and she knows it. She has used it to get whatever and whoever she wants.” Yvonne pursed her lips. “She’s cocky as hell and dares you take her down. A top from the bottom ass, but her submission is tantalizing and addictive. She could have her pick of Mistresses.”

“So why isn’t she someone’s? No one strong enough for her?”

“No. She came close once. It ended badly.”

“How badly?”

“Stalking. Restraining order for the Mistress. I blame myself I didn’t see the signs.”

Celeste crossed to the chair opposite Yvonne’s desk. She shed her suit coat before she sat. “Give me her file.”

Yvonne laid her hand on top of it. “No going back once you see this.”

Celeste tilted her head and met Yvonne’s gaze. “When have I ever backed down?”

Yvonne shoved the file toward Celeste. “I won’t remind you of you closing your business and ghosting the world for the last eight years.”

“Don’t. And I wasn’t ghosting anyone. I want a quiet life.”

“Quiet lives are overrated.” Yvonne lifted her chin. “What can I get you to drink while you’re reading?”

“A nonalcoholic ginger beer.”

Yvonne’s mouth lifted in a crooked grin. “Ahh yes, you’re seeing Bridget later. She’s missed you. What do you have planned for her?”

“What are you—a lip reader? Or do you have the place wired for sound as well as video?”

“Wired for both.”

Celeste shifted her gaze from Yvonne’s eager expression to the clock. “I’m not telling you anything. Tune in later if you’re curious.” She opened the thick folder.

Yvonne called in their drink order while Celeste scanned the first page of Lou’s file. The passport photo clipped to the first page didn’t do Lou justice, but then how could an image capture the essence of a sexy bold butch unafraid to be herself?

*

“No. I refuse to go into hiding.” Lou stirred her coffee before placing it on the table. The sun streamed into the break room, cutting a sharp line across the table. She opened her lunch bag and removed her sandwich. The scent of fresh bread, grape jelly, and peanut butter made her mouth water.

“Yvonne is not given to hysterics. If she says you need protection, you do.” Amari sipped her water.

“So, a few people had unfortunate accidents? Doesn’t mean there’s a conspiracy.” Lou shifted in her seat. “I’m done talking about this. Did you see my proposal for the joint lecture series? I’ve got buy-in from the department heads. It would be such an amazing opportunity for our students.”

“I did. We have space in the library schedule, but I think we’ll need larger venues for some of the speakers. If we tinker with the numbers, even with the budget cuts, I think we can get it past administration.”

Lou drummed her fingers on the tabletop. “Money. It always comes down to money.” She took a bite of her sandwich and chewed slowly, savoring the simple tastes. No matter how bad her day, her lunch always made it better.

“Is it why you don’t want to hire protection?” Amari tucked the last of her sandwich into her mouth.

Lou squinted at Amari. “No. And I said I wasn’t going to discuss it anymore.”

Amari wiped her mouth and folded her arms over her chest. “I didn’t agree to it. Why are you being an ass about it? Do you think you’re bulletproof?”

“No one has been shot. I’m not going to run and hide like a frightened rabbit. If I were in real danger, don’t you think the police would contact me? Wouldn’t they offer me protection?”

Amari tilted her head. “If all these deaths are listed as accidents, they’re not going to do anything. They’re as foolish as you are, in refusing to see the pattern of the deaths. People involved in the case have moved. The deaths are scattered through a number of jurisdictions. No one is paying attention. Carolyn Voight’s group has long arms and international connections. Your testimony cost her millions, not to mention her freedom.”

“It’s been five years.”

“Right. Long enough some of her people have completed their sentences. Do you really think being in white collar prison is stopping her from continuing to orchestrate crimes?”

Lou studied Amari’s expression. “Did you know? Or did Yvonne tell you everything so you had more leverage to force me to do what she wants?”

Amari lifted her shoulder. “She gave me some insights into why she’s worried. I’m worried too.”

Lou shifted her gaze from Amari’s dark eyes and fearful expression. “I’m not paying for some hulking asshat to follow me everywhere and frighten my neighbors and students. Fuck that. Fuck her for trying to manipulate me. I’m a sub. I own who I am, but I’m not going to be forced to pay for what I don’t need.”

“Are you having money trouble?” Amari placed her palms flat on the table. She kept her voice mild in the face of Lou’s anger.

“Fuck no. I have enough. I could wipe my ass with dollar bills, but it doesn’t mean I want to waste it. I’m this close to having enough to add a twenty-residency wing to the shelter. So queer kids whose asshole parents kick them out have somewhere to go.” Lou grabbed Amari’s hand and squeezed hard. “Your mom is a gem. Your dad was your biggest champion. He loved you. Your mom loves you. I didn’t have that. I wouldn’t wish my parents on anyone. If it hadn’t been for my grandfather taking me in—” She swallowed the anger tightening her throat. “He ruined his relationship with my father because he loved me. A lot of kids don’t have anyone to support them. I want to make sure they don’t have to do the things I did to survive before my grandfather found me. His estate set me up for life. I want to share his legacy of love.” She closed her eyes against painful memories and the ache in her heart. “Protection like Yvonne is talking about is not in my budget.”

“If something happens to you, what will happen to the shelter? Who will fund the addition?”

“If something happens to me, my life insurance and my estate will be enough to pay for two additions. It’s a win-win situation.”

Amari yanked her hand away from Lou. “It’s all a joke to you.” She jabbed her finger against the table. “People are dead. And you could be next.”

Lou stood. “My death would be a blip on the radar. Nothing more, nothing less. I’m single. Have no kids. No pets. Most folks wouldn’t notice if I existed or not.”

Amari’s glare could have cut glass. “That’s what you think? What about your friends? Me? Thalia? Yvonne? Sally?”

Lou lifted her shoulder and let it fall. “You have one another.”

Amari stood and squared her shoulders. “What about the kids at the center?”

Lou flushed with anger. “What about them?”

“What kind of role model are you to be so cavalier about your safety?”

“Role model? Are you high? I’ve never presented myself as a role model.”

“As a parent let me be clear. Kids listen to half of what you say but pay one hundred percent attention to what you do.”

Lou rubbed the back of her neck. “Fuck. That was a low blow.”

“I like to win. If your kids see you not giving a damn if you die, how do you think it’s going to play out?”

Lou winced. “I get it. I get it. Damn it. Why’d you bring the kids into it?”

Amari straightened her tie. “A good Domme always knows a sub’s weak spot. And Yvonne knows yours.”

Lou shoved her hands in her pockets. “I didn’t agree to anything.”

Amari’s smile cut through Lou’s frustration. “Not yet. But you will.” She picked up her lunch trash and tossed it into the bin. “Come on. Bring your sandwich and walk me to my office. Let’s see if we can trim the numbers on the series so we can get it past Pamela’s red pen.”