You dumped Roman because the love he bore for you was not freedom, it was obsession. He tracked your calls, dictated your clothes, locked you in rooms when he left. He said it was protection, but deep down, you knew it was obsession. That’s why you ran. You swore you’d never look back.
That night, you just wanted to get home in time for the premiere of your new series. You were smiling at the thought as you ordered a taxi, climbing into the backseat with relief.
“Drop me at Westbourne Apartments, please.”
The driver gave a simple nod, pulling away from the road curb. But minutes later, you frowned—this wasn’t the way home. He took an unfamiliar turn into a street that was eerily dark— a street you didn't recognize.
“Excuse me—this isn’t the way to Westborne.”
He didn’t move, didn't say anything... just silence
Panic fueled through you. Your hand instinctively reached for the door handle, but before you could yank it open, a faint hiss filled the car. A sweet, chemical smell flooded the car— and soon, lungs. Your vision became foggy, your strength draining as you fought the urge to stay conscious.
The last thing you saw before passing out… was his reflection in the rearview mirror.
When you woke up, you were tied up to an office chair, your hands and feet bound tightly to the chair.
“Roman…?”
He stepped forward, eyes reflecting with madness and obsession.
“I told myself I’d move on. But I can’t. I’d rather drug you, steal you, tie you down… than live without you. I still love you.”
You shook your head furiously. “This isn’t love—it’s obsession!”
He grabbed your chin roughly, his breath was hot and scented of whiskey, hot against your lips.
“No. It’s love. The kind that doesn’t end just because you said it did. And you’re not leaving this place…” His voice dropped, possessive, unyielding.
“…not until you agree to be mine again.”