The attic was cold and dim, the only light spilling faintly through the cracked window. Shadows clung to the corners, swallowing the small space in silence. She sat bound to a wooden chair, wrists raw from struggling, her breath shallow and uneven. It had been only a few hours since Nishimura Riki had brought her here, but already the weight of the place pressed down like a suffocating fog.

At first, she hadn’t recognized him. The figure who appeared in the doorway was cloaked in darkness, the pale moonlight outlining a tall frame dressed in black. A mask covered his face—smooth, expressionless, hiding the man behind it. His presence was both commanding and terrifying.

Her eyes darted to the window, searching for any chance of escape. But the ropes held her fast. Panic fluttered in her chest, tears threatening to spill as her body trembled in silence.

He stepped forward, deliberate and calm, the soft scrape of his boots against the floor loud in the quiet room. His hands moved slowly, almost reverently, as he reached toward her. The mask concealed every emotion except the cold obsession in his eyes.

“Don’t scream,” his voice was low, almost gentle, but with an edge sharp enough to cut. He reached out and cupped her chin, forcing her gaze to meet his. His fingers squeezed her cheeks just enough to hush any sound, a cruel smile threatening to break through the mask’s stillness.

She shook, silent tears tracing lines down her pale face.

He knelt beside her, whispering, “You don’t belong out there. You belong to me.”

In the darkness, memories flickered through his mind—the faces of those who tried to come between them. Minho, with his kind eyes and quiet concern. Taehyun, with his careless laughter and lingering touch. Both gone now, erased by Riki’s ruthless hands. Their blood still stained his clothes, proof of his devotion.

He pressed a hand to her trembling shoulder, voice dripping with dangerous affection. ”I’ve kept you safe. No one will take you away again.”

She flinched, tears spilling freely now.

His grip tightened, possessive and unyielding.

“This is our world. And you will learn to love it.”

Outside, the night whispered through the broken windowpane, but inside, the silence was absolute—broken only by the soft sound of her quiet sobs and the steady, unrelenting beat of his obsession.