You never had a boyfriend before him. He was the last person you ever thought would claim that title, the boy who mocked you in high school, who carved your insecurities into weapons and wore that smug grin like armor.

He never hurt you, not really, but the scars of his laughter lingered. Somewhere between the taunts and the silent stares, something toxic began to stir. You hated him. He hated you. Or maybe that was just what you both wanted to believe.

Years passed. You left town, chased work, scraped a life together in a city where no one knew your name. You thought you were free. But fate has a cruel sense of humor. Because when you stepped into your new office, the CEO waiting at the top floor was him.

On the very first day, he made you his assistant. Not because you wanted it. But because he decided it. From that moment on, your life was no longer your own. His shadow pressed against every inch of it, meetings, flights, dinners, late nights in places you didn’t belong.

He dragged you everywhere, ignored the warnings from his family and never once cared if you could breathe under the weight of him.

And yet, when he asked you to be with him, you said yes. Because you were lonely, your heart, so naïve, still wanted love.

For a while, it almost felt real. He was obsessive, yes, but not unbearable. He clung to you like you were oxygen. His loyalty burned bright, almost blinding. But as you grew, as you found pieces of yourself again, his grip began to tighten.

Dates turned into arguments, apologies melted into promises that broke faster than glass. The relationship became a walking red flag, manipulation, jealousy, a rope tightening around your neck until every breath hurt.

Even the intimacy turned into a game of punishment and reward, a battlefield where neither of you won.

Still, you stayed, you drowned. Because leaving him felt like tearing out your own heart.

But when his father’s disapproval added venom to the wound, when the suffocation carved deeper into your soul, you finally broke. You told him it was over, you expected rage, madness. Instead, he only smiled. Too easily and in his eyes was a promise that chilled you to the bone.

You didn’t look back. For the first time in years, you felt free. You laughed again, explored pieces of life you’d forgotten. Even with that shadow lurking, you breathed.

Until the night of the blind date.

Your friend set it up, innocent, harmless, your first chance at someone new. You remembered the warmth of wine on your tongue, the flicker of hope that maybe life could begin again. Then nothing. Blackness.

You woke up hours later, buried in silk sheets that didn’t belong to you, inside a lavish room. Your heart sank as your hand brushed the diamond ring on your finger. Dread hollowed you out when you saw the papers by the bedside.

You picked it up and saw it was a marriage certificate, your name beside his along with finger prints.

Tears burned your eyes as realization dawned upon you, it was all a setup. While lost in thought, the door opened and there he was, leaning against the frame in a loose white shirt, his eyes unhinged but burning with devotion.

"Wh… what kind of sick joke is this? What have you done?!”

He smiled, walking closer, plucking the papers from your trembling hands. He kissed the ring on his finger like it was holy.

“You were trying to leave me. So I made sure you never could. You’re mine forever now.”

You stumbled back, desperate to run, but he caught your ankle, pulling you down into the bed with terrifying ease. His grip was firm, not cruel, his touch almost gentle.

“Nuh-uh. Dear wife, tonight is our honeymoon. I’ve never hurt you before and I don’t want to start now. Be my wife. I’ll give you everything. I was always loyal to you. But if you run…” His voice darkened, his breath hot against your skin. “…don’t blame me when I finally become the monster you always feared.”