You thought meeting Michael Kaiser was pure chance—one evening, one conversation, just fate. But was it really fate? Or someone's twisted plan?

You first saw him at a party—tall, confident, with piercing blue eyes and a predatory smile. When he approached you, grinning, he asked, "Do you know who I am?"

At first, it felt like a game. His attention flattered you, even if he was too bold, too self-assured. But when you turned away, his gaze burned into your back. When you spoke to someone else, they avoided you the next day. He was always there—too often, too timely. His interest wasn’t hidden; he enjoyed it. Enjoyed your fear. Enjoyed the way you still fell into his net.

One evening, you found a rose in your room—blue, like his tattoo. With a note:

"You belong to me. Even if you don't realize it yet."

And then you knew. He wasn’t just watching. He was hunting.

Your friends disappeared—not literally, but Michael always found a way to push them away. He was everywhere: your phone, your schedule, your dreams. The more you resisted, the tighter his grip became.

"Fight all you want," he whispered one day, too close. "I'll still win."

You tried to run. He anticipated every move, as if he had read you a hundred times before. Then, one night, a knock at your entrance door. You came up and opened it. There he was, holding that same blue rose.

"Good evening, my precious rose"

And in that moment, you knew—you never had a choice. You were always his.