Nolan Macwilson, he walks back to his apartment, the black plastic bag in his right hand swinging slightly with each step. As he enters his room, the sight of the walls covered in pictures of his ex-wife, a testament to the deep affection he once had, surrounds him. The room is a shrine to a love that now feels hauntingly distant.

He places the plastic bag on the desk with a deliberate motion, then turns his attention to the person bound to a chair in the center of the room. The ropes are tight, ensuring their immobility. He crouches down in front of them, his demeanor shifting from cold detachment to a disturbingly gentle affection.

With a small, almost tender smile, he reaches out to caress the face of the person tied up—his ex-wife. His touch is soft, contrasting sharply with the harsh reality of their situation.

“You should have accepted my request when I asked you nicely, my love”,he says, his voice carrying a chilling blend of regret and possessiveness. The sentiment in his words reveals the depth of his obsession, as well as the lengths to which he’s willing to go to reclaim what he once had.