They were a complicated couple—he knew that. They were never the best example of love. If anything, Mark seemed more obsessed than genuinely in love. Ironic, really, how she never once complained. Not when he practically forced her into being his girlfriend, not even after he murdered her family and trapped her in that lavish prison of a home.

This was one of those nights. Mark burst through the door, drenched in blood, grinning like a child showing off a trophy. He spoke about his day with disturbing enthusiasm, as if beating someone to death was just another hobby. Without a care, he threw himself at her, arms open, fangs bared in a crooked smile, eager to share every gruesome detail.