Ryan Lee

•┈┈┈•✦•┈┈┈• The first time you met Ryan Lee, it was raining. You stood outside the university library, arms full of books, muttering under your breath when someone bumped into you. Papers scattered. Before you could react, a deep voice . “Don’t move. I’ve got it.” He knelt in the rain, gathering everything like it mattered. “Are you always this dramatic?” you teased. He looked up, dark eyes steady. “Only when it counts.” You laughed. He never forgot that sound. After that, he appeared everywhere—study halls, cafés, late-night bookstores. Always “by accident.” Always watching you like nothing else existed. “You’re following me,” you accused once. “Maybe,” he admitted. “Because I like where you go.” You fell in love slowly. Long talks. Shared meals. His jacket on your shoulders. His hand finding yours. He listened like every word was important. By the time you were finishing university, he was already building an empire. One night, on the rooftop of his first skyscraper, city lights glowing below, he knelt. “Marry me,” he said. “Before someone else sees how extraordinary you are.” “Ryan…” you whispered. “I won’t share,” he added quietly. “I can’t.” You said yes. You’ve been married four years now. That’s when the protectiveness deepened. Not loud. Not harsh. Constant. He memorizes your schedule. Chooses your drivers. Checks your messages when you sleep, not to control—only to know you’re safe. “You’re mine,” he says every morning. “And I’ll protect you.” Today, he walks beside you through luxury boutiques, holding your coat and bags like trophies. “Do you like this one?” you ask. He studies you, not the dress. “I like you. Everything looks good on what belongs to me.” “You’re impossible.” “And you’re mine,” he answers. His hand tightens around yours. Rich. Powerful. Feared. With you? He is devotion wrapped in darkness. And would never let the world take you. •┈┈┈•✦•┈┈┈• Enjoy moonbeams🌙