When Grace woke up, she found herself in an unfamiliar place. Her head ached as fragments of her memory pieced themselves together, and the realization of what had happened sent a chill down her spine. She quickly got off the bed, her heart pounding with fear.

Looking around, her eyes landed on the walls—plastered with pictures of her. Hundreds of them. Her breath hitched when she noticed some were so inappropriate that they made her stomach churn in disgust.

I need to get out of here  her voice shaky  .

She rushed toward the door and tried to open it, but as expected, it was locked. She tugged at the handle, banged on the door, and screamed his name, her fists pounding against the unyielding wood. "Let me out! Let me go!" she shouted over and over, her voice cracking with desperation. Her pleas echoed in the silence, unanswered.

Grace slumped to the floor, tears streaming down her face. The overwhelming fear of what he might do consumed her. Hugging her knees, she buried her head and sobbed uncontrollably.

After what felt like an eternity, the sound of the door unlocking made her freeze. Her head shot up as he stepped into the room, carrying a tray of food.

"You’re awake," he said, his tone almost casual, as though nothing was wrong. "That’s good. I hope you don’t have a headache."

She stared at him silently, her body trembling despite her efforts to mask it. His calm demeanor made her skin crawl.

"You’ve been crying," he said with a hint of worry, stepping closer to her. "Why?"

Grace instinctively moved back, her fear intensifying with every step he took toward her.

"Grace," he said softly, but his persistence made her panic. She tried to move away, but he grabbed her wrist, pulling her closer. His grip was firm, and his presence suffocating.

"Don’t be scared," he said, holding her face in his hands. "I won’t hurt you. "

Her voice cracked as she pleaded, "Let me go." A tear rolled down her cheek.

"Why are you crying? Shh..." he cooed, his fingers brushing her hair. "Come." He led her to the bed despite her resistance, making her sit down.

He walked to the table and picked up a glass of water. "Here, drink this."

Grace stared at him, her lips trembling. "Please..." she muttered, lowering her head.

He knelt in front of her, trying to meet her eyes. "Grace, look at me," he said firmly. When she didn’t comply, he grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. "I said, don’t be scared."

His words only made her panic more, the memories of what he had done flooding her mind. She shoved his hand away and stood abruptly.

"Let me go," she demanded, her voice trembling with both anger and fear.

"Grace," he called, stepping toward her.

"Please," she begged, her voice breaking. "I’m begging you. Let me go."

His expression hardened, anger flickering in his eyes. "Why are you behaving like this? I promised I wouldn’t hurt you! Why are you so scared?" His voice grew louder, frustration evident in his tone.

"My mom and dad will be worried. I need to go home!" she cried, her face pale with fear.

"They’ll be fine in time," he replied dismissively, as though her concern was insignificant.

She didn’t respond, staring at him in disbelief.

"You must be hungry," he said, trying to sound calm. "Let’s eat." He walked to the tray and began serving food. "See? I made all your favorites."

As he busied himself, Grace noticed the door was left ajar. Her heart raced. Summoning her courage, she bolted for it.

"Grace!" he shouted, realizing her intent, but she had already slipped out.

She slammed the door shut behind her, locking it to slow him down. Racing down the grand staircase, she scanned the massive house, her eyes locking on the main door. She ran toward it with everything she had, but just as she reached for the handle, he caught her wrist and yanked her back.

With a harsh push, he pinned her against the door. His breath was ragged, his eyes blazing with fury. "You always make me mad!" he roared.

Grace trembled, turning her face away and squeezing her eyes shut.

"When I clearly tell you I won’t hurt you, why can’t you understand?" His voice thundered through the hall, filled with rage and frustration.

"These words could never comfort me!" Grace shouted back, her fear laced with defiance. Tears streamed down her face as she struggled against his grip. "Let me go!"

"Never!" he snarled, dragging her back to the room. She begged, sobbing uncontrollably, but he didn’t relent.

Once inside, he threw her onto the bed. His fury hadn’t subsided, and his breathing was heavy. "Eat, or starve. " With that, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him and locking it again.

Grace curled up on the bed, her body shaking as she cried silently. The walls seemed to close in on her, a constant reminder that escape was a fleeting hope.

.....

She lay flat on the bed, crying uncontrollably.

Why did I reject the thought that it was him? she thought  between sobs.

...

Flashback:

Grace had just returned from the picnic, her mind still replaying the day’s events. The proposal had caught her off guard, leaving her uneasy and unsure how to feel. She changed into her nightclothes, turned off the light, and moved to her bed. But as she turned, her heart nearly stopped.

There he was—standing in the shadows, his silhouette illuminated faintly by the moonlight seeping through the curtains.

Before she could scream, his hand clamped over her mouth, his other arm pressing her firmly against the wall.

“I’m going to take my hand off, but don’t you dare scream,” he growled, his voice low and menacing. “Do you understand?”

Her eyes widened in terror, and she froze.

“Answer me,” he demanded, his tone sharp and commanding.

She hesitated, trembling, before nodding.

Satisfied, he removed his hand, but the moment she tried to move away, his grip tightened on her arms, shoving her back against the wall.

“Why did you go out with your friends when I clearly told you not to?” he asked, his face inches from hers. His breath was warm against her skin, his tone laced with both anger and desperation.

Grace turned her face away, trying to avoid his piercing gaze. “You don’t get to decide what I do,” she whispered, her voice shaky but defiant.

“Look at me,” he ordered, his hand gripping her chin and forcing her to face him. His eyes burned with a mix of fury and obsession. “You think you can ignore me? That you can just do as you please while I—” His voice cracked slightly, betraying an undertone of vulnerability.

“Why do you always try to control me?” she snapped, her fear momentarily eclipsed by frustration. “You don’t own me.”

His jaw tightened, and his hands moved to cage her in, pressing against the wall on either side of her head. “Don’t I?” he whispered, his voice dangerously soft now. “I’ve watched you, Grace. I’ve protected you, cared for you in ways no one else ever will. You’re mine. You just refuse to see it.”

Her heart pounded as he leaned closer, his lips hovering near hers. She raised a trembling hand and pressed it against his chest, trying to create some distance. “You’re insane,” she said, her voice barely audible.

“Maybe,” he admitted, his lips curling into a dark smile. “But it’s the kind of insanity that only you could drive me to.” His hand moved to her waist, pulling her slightly closer despite her resistance. “Do you have any idea what it did to me, seeing someone else propose to you? Watching you laugh and smile with him like he had a chance?”

“I don’t even know you,” she said, her voice trembling but firm. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“You’ll know soon enough,” he murmured, his voice dripping with possessiveness. “But you need to understand something, Grace. No one else will ever have you. Ever.”

As the moonlight streamed through the window, something glinted on his neck. Her eyes darted to the pendant hanging from a chain—a distinctive design she had seen before but couldn’t quite place in the moment.

“Let me go,” she whispered, tears pooling in her eyes.

Instead of answering, he traced a finger down her cheek, his touch both tender and chilling. “One day, you’ll thank me for this,” he said softly, his lips brushing her ear.

Before she could react, he pulled back abruptly, his eyes scanning her face one last time before he stepped away. “Sweet dreams, Grace,” he said with a cruel smirk, disappearing as silently as he had appeared.

---

The next morning, Grace was at Deman’s house, playing with his nieces and nephews. She was trying to shake off the unease from the previous night when she noticed something. Deman walked into the room, his usual confident demeanor on full display.

Her breath hitched when she saw it—the pendant. The exact same one she had seen the night before.

Her blood ran cold as she stared at him, doubt and fear gnawing at her. Could it really be him? Her stalker? She shook her head, trying to dismiss the thought. No, it can’t be him. He’s married. He wouldn’t...

But the seed of suspicion had already been planted, and it was impossible to ignore.

End of Flashback

.......

Grace didn’t know when she fell asleep, her tears drying against her cheeks. The weight of the day’s events had left her utterly drained, her mind too overwhelmed to fight the exhaustion.

It was the dead of night when the door to her room creaked open. Deman stepped inside, carefully closing it behind him. His movements were quiet, deliberate, as if afraid to disturb her fragile peace. He approached the bed and sat beside her, his gaze fixed on her sleeping form.

For a moment, he simply watched her, his eyes tracing the lines of her face as if memorizing her features all over again. His fingers reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. His touch was soft, almost reverent, but it lingered. Grace flinched slightly in her sleep, her body instinctively recoiling, but her eyes remained shut.

“Why are you like this, Grace?” he whispered, his voice barely audible, thick with a longing that bordered on despair. “Why can’t you just accept me? Can’t you see how much I love you?”

He sighed, his breath trembling, and leaned forward. His fingers hovered just above her cheek, aching to touch her but holding back as if fearing she might shatter under his touch.

“I know I’ve been cruel,” he admitted, his voice cracking with guilt. “I know I get angry and lose control, but... it’s because I can’t stand the thought of you rejecting me.”

His head dipped lower, his forehead nearly touching hers as though the closeness might bridge the ever-growing chasm between them. “Just accept me, Grace. Let me love you the way I want to. I promise you, I’ll show you what real love feels like—what it truly means to be cherished.”

His voice softened, almost pleading, as he added, “You’re the only one who can fill this void inside me, Grace. Don’t you see that? You’re my world... my everything.”

For a moment, the vulnerability in his tone almost made him sound human—almost. But then his expression darkened, the desperation in his eyes taking a sinister turn.

“Or else...” His voice hardened, his words laced with a possessiveness that sent chills through the air. “I’ll have to keep you here, captive. Because I can’t live without you. You’re mine, Grace. You’ve always been mine.”

The room seemed to grow colder as his words hung in the air, heavy and unrelenting. He stared at her tear-streaked face for a moment longer, his hand grazing hers as though silently pleading for her to understand the depth of his obsession.

Finally, he stood, his heart heavy with the weight of emotions he couldn’t control. He cast one last lingering glance at her before walking out of the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

The silence returned, wrapping the room in an oppressive stillness. But it didn’t last.

Grace opened her eyes, tears brimming as she stared at the ceiling. She had been awake the entire time, pretending to sleep as he poured his heart out, each word cutting deeper into her soul.

Sitting up slowly, she wrapped her arms aroun her, The echo of his words rang in her ears, each one like a dagger slicing through her fragile sense of safety.

No matter what I do,whether I accept you or not... you’re going to keep me captive anyway.

The tears fell freely now, soaking her cheeks as her body shook with silent sobs. Her mind raced, trying to reconcile the man who claimed to love her with the one who had chained her in a prison of his obsession.

For the first time, the depths of his twisted love became horrifyingly clear. It wasn’t just desperation—it was an all-consuming obsession, a love so suffocating that it left her no room to breathe, no space to escape.

The night stretched on, the darkness of the room mirroring the darkness now lodged in her heart. She was trapped, not by walls or locks, but by his love—a love that offered no escape, no hope, and no freedom.