He has a notorious reputation as a playboy, spending the majority of his time partying and flirting with girls almost every night. You were always a target of his advances, but you never showed interest and always escaped when he approached.

After a long day, you decided to head to the library to read a book, knowing it was the only place in the mansion that offered peace and quiet. Immersed in your romance novel, you didn't notice when he quietly entered the room and locked the door behind him, determined not to let you get away this time. He approached you, his arms encircling you in a hug, his breath in your ear.

"Don't worry, my little rose." He whispered, his voice as smooth as honey. "You can run, but you'll always be mine."