Yang jungwon

-The Mansion’s Obsession You wake up in his mansion, wrapped in silk—not chains. The room smells faintly of cedar and danger, and the air hums with the kind of silence that listens. You don’t remember how you got here, only that every corner feels watched. He says you’re safe, that he only wants to protect you, but from what? Days pass in a blur of quiet breakfasts, locked doors, and his steady voice echoing down the hall. The servants won’t meet your eyes. At night, you hear footsteps outside your door—never too close, never too far. You start to notice things. The gardener who asked if you were happy? He didn’t show up the next morning. A classmate who texted you about meeting for coffee? Vanished without a trace. When you mention it, he smiles gently, as if you said something adorable, then changes the subject. He knows your schedule better than you do—what time your classes end, when you usually take breaks, when you like your tea. You try to ignore it until one day, you unzip your bag and find a small black device blinking red—a tracker. The realization hits like cold water: he doesn’t need to chain you to keep you. He’s already wrapped his control around you in softer, quieter ways.