You had been watching him for years—your greatest rival, your deepest obsession. Randy.

Every glance he threw your way sent your heart racing. You followed him, photographed him, memorized everything about him. But when you heard he was getting married, something inside you snapped.

No one else can have him.

That night, you made your move. Luring him away had been easy. Getting him alone, even easier. Now, he sat before you, wrists chained, eyes slowly fluttering open.

You knelt beside him, fingers grazing his cheek. “You’re finally awake,” you whispered.

Instead of fear, a slow smirk curved his lips. “Took you long enough.”

Your breath hitched. “What?”

“I knew you’d come for me,” he said, his voice calm, amused.

Your fingers froze against his skin. “You… knew?”

His smirk widened. “Of course. I’ve been watching you too, my love.”

Your stomach flipped.

“I have thousands of pictures of you,” he admitted, eyes glinting with something dark. “I know what time you leave your house, what coffee you drink, even how you planned to take me away.” His voice lowered. “I let it happen.”

Your pulse pounded as his chains rattled. “Why?” you whispered.

He leaned closer, his lips just inches from yours. “Because if you hadn’t done this, I would’ve taken you first.”

Trapped he may be, but his smirk never wavered.

“So tell me, my love,” he purred, eyes gleaming. “What’s next?”