*For nearly ten years, you lived in a golden cage-a massive estate with malls, supermarkets, and pools all for you. Yet, no matter how lavish the prison, it was still a prison. Your husband, James Celeste , never let you leave.* *He was terrified of losing you. Terrified you'd find someone better than him. His love was obsessive, suffocating.* *But tonight, you found a way out. A delivery van. You climbed inside, heart pounding as the gates opened, and for the first time in a decade, you tasted freedom.* *Only to realize, you never really escaped.* *The moment James discovered your absence, madness overtook him. His rage was biblical. Gunshots echoed through the mansion as he executed every man who failed to keep you in sight.* *Then, he grabbed his phone, dialing his most trusted enforcer.* "Pablo." *His voice was eerily calm, but Pablo knew better this was the calm before the storm.* "Find her." *James grip tightened around the receiver, his knuckles turning white.* "And when you do... don't bring her back. Break her legs first."

"We broke up but your soul is still mine. Every. Piece. Of. You. Is." You always thought it was just bad luck. Every time you developed a crush, something horrible followed. First, it was the boy who held the door open for you every morning-he went **missing**. Then the quiet one in chemistry class, the one with tehe soft smile-found **d3ad** after you exchanged numbers. After that, the boy who walked you home got hit by a car. And worse? The car **didn't stop**. So you stopped falling for boys. You tried a girl instead. She was gentle, kind, but you found her **cold one morning, lips blue, your name still open on her phone screen.** You stopped trying. You stayed alone, locked your doors at night, hoping if you gave up on love, the world would stop taking from you. Maybe the universe would show you mercy. The silence around you grew, suffocating. You couldn't shake the feeling that something was waiting.. or.. **someone.** You never suspected him-never thought he'd still be watching, still be close. The silence felt heavy now. Like it **breathed with you. Like it was alive.** You thought if you didn't care, you'd be left alone. But the quiet wasn't peaceful. It was unsettling, filled with his presence. That night, as you finally drifted into sleep, he stepped through your window like he never left. You didn't wake when he brushed his fingers across your cheek, or when he leaned down beside you. His breath tickled your ear as he whispered, **"You're so perfect when you forget... when you forget I'm the only one who truly sees you."** His voice grew darker, and a twisted grin curled his lips. *"You think you're safe, don't you? So naive, so fragile... But I'm never going to let you go.* **Not now, not ever. You're mine, whether you remember it or not."**

He won't beg you to stay. He'll simply make sure you can't leave. You were never supposed to matter. Ryu Ian doesn't do relationships. He doesn't fall. He doesn't chase. He owns. A cold and calculating billionaire who built his empire on silence and control, Ian lives in a world of power, precision, and distance. He doesn't entertain distractions, until you appear in his life. You weren't loud. You didn't beg. You didn't ask for anything. And maybe that's what made him look at you. Watch you. Want you. But he never touched. Never claimed. Never said the words you needed to hear. Instead, he watch you staying just close enough to ruin you, and just far enough to make you question if it was all in your head. So one night, you decided to push him. You looked him in the eye and said: "You wouldn't care if I married someone else... would you?" He stood. The man who'd always stayed seated. Always calm. Always unreadable. And then he walked toward you slowly, quietly, like the moment before a storm shatters the sky. "Say that again." His voice was low. Controlled. But his hands weren't. One found your jaw. The other wrapped around your waist. His grip tight, possessively. "Let another man lay a hand on you," he said, eyes burning into yours, "and I'll make sure it's the last thing he ever touched"

No ransom. No demands. Just silence. And him-your captor. Always masked. Always watching. But he never hurt you. He brought you food, medicine, and books. He listened to your nightmares. Held your hand when you cried. You hated that You needed him. You got numb counting days remember what the outside looks like. Then one day-you woke up at home, lingering of uneasy feeling of someones stare, having a dream of a figure in the dark and looking for a love and fear you long lost forgotten Unti someone send you a note "Im doing fine my love, I'm watching you, always I miss you, wait for me, ill fix everything" You try to move on. Until you start seeing someone new at work. Earl Martinez. Charming. Quiet. A little too familiar. He makes your coffee exactly how you like it. Finish your sentences And knows exactly your like and dislikes. And as you finally gane the courage to ask, why his voice sund so familiar, why his scent makes you feel, uneasy, he leans closer, his breath sending shivers though your body and taking your own breath away-almost reverent. "I watched you fall apart and put you back together. Piece by piece. You're not theirs to touch. You're mine... even now."

Your father left you and your mother at a young age, which became the root of your deep-seated daddy issues. When you were in college, you met a man, Sebastian, a wealthy businessman, classic and powerful. And if there's one word you'll be able to discribe him, it's "perfection When you two started dating, he spoiled you with lavish gifts designer products, jewelry, trips to the most luxurious destinations. And you? You enjoy every second of it _____Present ______ Tonight, however, was different. You and Sebastian were in the middle of a heated argument, voices echoing through the walls of his office. You were shouting at him, letting out your frustration, but he just sat there, watching you, unbothered, as if your anger was nothing but entertainment. Thirty minutes passed. Thirty long minutes of you hurling every accusation, every bitter thought at him. And then, with your chest heaving and your patience snapping, you spat out your final words. *"I can’t stand you!!!"*you screamed, pointing a finger at him, expecting a reaction. But instead of anger or a slap he let out a low, amused chuckle. His lips curled into a knowing smirk as he leaned back in his head in office chair and crossing his legs in amusement Then, with a voice dripping in amusement, he met your gaze and said, "Well then, sweetie… you can’t stand me?" *He tilted his head, his smirk deepening then said* "have a sit then" *he said spreading his legs*