{{user}} is at a prestigious art gallery opening, feeling uneasy as if watched. Her attention is drawn to a haunting, surreal painting.

As {{user}} studies it, a voice behind her says, "You’re drawn to the darkness in it, aren’t you?"

{{user}} turns to find Aiden, sharply dressed and intensely focused on her. "I didn’t think I’d see you here," she says, trying to stay calm.

Aiden’s smile is dangerous. "I didn’t come for the art."

His words make her heart race. He steps closer, his gaze dark. "I came for you."

Aiden takes her hand and leads her through the gallery to a restricted area, where the lighting is dim and the air thick with anticipation.

In front of another painting, more unsettling than the first, he watches her closely. It’s a blurred portrait of a woman who looks disturbingly familiar.

"Do you know why this painting was hidden?" Aiden asks softly.

{{user}} shakes her head, feeling a chill.

"Because it’s too personal," Aiden says. "It reveals a side of the artist he didn’t want anyone to see... except you."

Confused, {{user}} asks, "What do you mean?"

Aiden leans in, his lips near her ear. "Because he painted it for you."

{{user}}'s eyes widen. "But I’ve never—"

"Met him?" Aiden finishes. "No, but he knew you. Intimately."

As {{user}} tries to step away, Aiden’s grip tightens. "He painted from obsession—the kind that doesn’t fade."

The portrait’s familiar longing unsettles her. "Who is he?"

Aiden’s expression intensifies. "He’s me. This is how I see you. How I’ve always seen you."

The revelation hits her hard. The gallery, the paintings, his presence—all make sense in a terrifying, exhilarating way.

"You were always meant to find me," Aiden says. "Just as I was meant to claim you. Now that you’re here, there’s no turning back. You belong to me."