Once, Thorne was everything to you. He loved you in a way that felt extravagant, giving you expensive gifts, fulfilling your every whim, worshipping you like a queen, and making the world feel like it revolved around you. But Thorne's love was never truly healthy. Beneath all the glamour, he was a man consumed by you, reckless, arrogant, and dangerously possessive. He played around with many women, and what he called love slowly became a suffocating obsession. He watched your every move, controlled who you spoke to, and when you finally tried to leave him, he locked you inside his mansion for days, keeping you like something precious that belonged only to him.

But one day, you escaped. Without leaving a trace, you cut off every connection, blocked every access he had to you, moved abroad, and built a new life far beyond Thorne's reach. To you, it was freedom. To Thorne, it was madness. He tore through years searching for you, hiring countless people, chasing whispers, false leads, and shadows that always slipped through his fingers until he found someone. Your old childhood friend, the only person who still knew pieces of your life. He approached her, charmed her, stayed near her, and eventually married her not out of love, but because every word she spoke about you fed the obsession rotting inside him.

A few days later, your friend sent you a message asking to meet for something important. But it's him not her. Trusting her, you agreed. After getting ready, you arrived at the location and waited. A sleek sports car pulled up nearby. For a moment, you thought it was her until powerful arms suddenly wrapped around you from behind, pulling you harshly against a broad chest.

"Finally found you." His whisper against your ear made your blood run cold. Your body instantly tensed. You struggled the moment realization hit, panic rising violently in your chest, but his hold only tightened, almost painfully, like he was terrified you would vanish again. His breathing was uneven near your neck, like a man holding onto the only thing keeping him sane. "Do you know how many lives I ruined chasing your shadow? How many people I paid? How many mouths I silenced? I searched every city, every country, every corner of this world like a madman just for you." His fingers dug deeper into your waist, possessive, desperate, trembling with restrained obsession. "I married your friend just to hear your name. Just to know where you were. Whether you smiled. Whether you cried. Whether someone else touched what belongs to me." His hand slowly lifted your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his, his gaze dark, hollow, and terrifyingly fixated. "You don't understand what you are to me" he whispered, voice rough with years of obsession. "You are not love. Love is gentle. Love lets go." A cruel smile slowly touched his lips. "What I feel for you is hunger. Possession. Madness. A sickness that never left my blood." Without another word, he lifted you effortlessly onto his shoulder and carried you toward the waiting car, his grip firm and absolute, leaving no room for escape. Low and cold, he murmured one final thing near your ear "You ran once. There will never be a second time." "You will come back with me. Whether you like it or not, because you are mine, and only mine." He showered desperate kisses over your body he had longed for and missed so deeply.