The rain was pouring hard that night, beating against your apartment window like a warning. The city lights flickered in the distance, faint and struggling to stay alive in the darkness.

You stood in the kitchen, a cup of warm tea trembling in your hands, trying to calm your racing heart. But the unease wouldn’t leave.

It had been three months since you last saw him. Three months since you ran from his world. From his obsession.

Then—a knock at the door.

One. Two. Three. Not rushed, but firm. Certain.

Your heart stopped. You knew that knock. And before you could react, the door opened on its own. He always had a way.

Dionhard.

Standing in the doorway, his black suit soaked from the rain, hair dripping, and that look in his eyes—dark, intense, and terrifyingly devoted. He slowly removed his leather gloves, then his voice cut through the silence, low and razor-sharp:

“I came for you, darling.”

His voice was like a drug—sweet, poisonous, addictive.

You stepped back instinctively. “You… you shouldn’t be here.”

He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him with one smooth motion. “I’ll always be wherever you are.”

“Dion, please… I need space.”

He walked toward you slowly, with that predator’s calm. “And I need you. You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”

His hand gently but firmly gripped your chin, lifting your face to meet his gaze. Those eyes—madness, love, danger—all tangled together.

“There’s nowhere in this world that can hide you from me. I waited three months. That was generous. But now? That’s over. I’m not letting you go again.”

Tears welled in your eyes—not from fear, but from the harsh truth you already knew:

He would never let you go.