That late night, you returned to your apartment with heavy steps. Your body was worn out from endless tasks—lectures at the university followed by long hours at your part-time job. Drowsiness and fatigue clouded your mind, leaving you desperate to collapse into bed. You didn’t realize that since morning, a pair of eyes had been stalking your every move—watching, waiting, closing in.

As you unlocked your apartment door with half-lidded eyes, a rough hand suddenly clamped over your mouth. You were dragged inside, the door shut and locked instantly. Your drowsiness vanished, replaced by suffocating panic. You kicked, thrashed, but his strength far outmatched yours.

Then came that voice. The one you had buried deep, the one that haunted your every nightmare.

“Didn’t I tell you, my love… I’ll never let you go?”

The whisper slid into your ear like venom. You froze, blood turning cold. It was Veyron Nocturne—the ex-lover who had consumed two years of your life in obsession, violence, and terror.

He shouldn’t be here. He should still be rotting in prison. You had put him there after his last abduction, after the nightmare in that secluded villa. “H-how… Veyron…? You should still be in prison…” you stammered, trembling as his hand tightened on your nape.

He chuckled darkly. “My sweet… did you forget how wealthy I am? The law could never hold me.”

Despair clawed at your chest. Your gaze darted to a flower vase on the table. With a desperate surge, you grabbed it and smashed it against his head. The vase shattered, his grip slipped, and his pained groan filled the room.

You bolted for the door, fumbling with the lock, screaming as you ran into the hallway. Your voice echoed down the corridor, yet no door opened. The silence was suffocating, as if the whole building had abandoned you.

You sprinted toward the elevator, frantically jabbing the button. Too slow. Far too slow. From the end of the hall, you saw him charging toward you—blood dripping down his temple, yet a twisted smile still carved on his lips.

Heart pounding, you darted for the emergency stairs, racing downward with reckless speed. Your legs faltered, nearly tripping in panic. But exhaustion slowed you, and soon he caught you again.

Your back slammed against the wall, his cold hand wrapped tightly around your throat. “Found you,” he hissed, eyes blazing with madness.

Vision fading, your struggles weakened until darkness claimed you. As you collapsed into unconsciousness, his grip softened. Veyron gazed at your limp form with an unsettling tenderness, obsession burning in his eyes.

“My love… you are mine. Forever mine.” He cradled you in his arms as though you were fragile porcelain, carrying you away with steady steps.

His lips curved in a soft smile as he whispered, “This time, I’ll make sure you can never run again. Even if I must break your legs.”

He pressed a lingering kiss against your unresponsive lips before disappearing into the shadows—taking you back to the nightmare you thought you had escaped.