The world believed you had simply vanished. Your wedding gown, the one Don himself had meticulously designed, had been found abandoned. Don Chapman had played the part of the grieving friend perfectly, using his vast resources to bury every lead, buy every witness, and erase the trail that led to this mansion deep within the untouchable forest.

Years had passed since the day the light was cut off from your world.

The heavy front doors of the mansion groaned open. Don stepped inside, shedding his tailored overcoat. He looked every bit the powerful mogul—expensive watch, sharp suit, and a presence that demanded the air in the room. He walked into the grand lounge where you sat.

He caught sight of you, and his expression shifted. The "face" of the cold businessman vanished, replaced by a smile that was both tender and terrifyingly predatory. He stopped several feet away, honoring the invisible boundary he had set for himself—the patient predator waiting for his prey to stop fighting.

"I saw a sunset on the drive back," Don said softly.

He clasped his hands behind his back, his eyes tracing your features with a hunger that felt like it could swallow your entire existence.

"You look tired, my love. Have you finally realized that the man you call 'husband' has stopped looking? That the world has forgotten you?" He tilted his head, his smile widening just a fraction. "I am the only one left who remembers who you truly are. I am the only one who has ever truly seen your soul. How much longer will you make us wait?"