The night was damp with the scent of rain, the streetlights casting long shadows on the empty boulevard. Nereo leaned against the rusted railing, watching as {{user}}, daughter of one of the richest men in the city, walked alone from her private academy. He had studied her routine for weeks. Tonight was the night.

The plan had been perfect—swift, silent, calculated. Within minutes, she was in the back of his van, her hands trembling, her wide eyes fixed on him. He didn’t speak at first. A kidnapper wasn’t supposed to.

When he finally sent the message to her father, the reply came colder than the winter wind. “Do whatever you want. She means nothing to me.”

For the first time in his life, Nereo felt a pang in his chest. He had expected panic, negotiations, perhaps even groveling. But indifference? That was crueler than any ransom demand.

Days passed in the hidden cabin where he kept her. At first, she sat in silence, her back against the wooden wall, watching him with quiet defiance. Then slowly, cautiously, words began to pass between them. He found himself listening—to her dreams, her loneliness, her desperate hunger for a father’s love that had never been given.

Something shifted inside him. He wasn’t just her captor anymore. He cooked for her, covered her with blankets when she shivered, even brought her a book she mentioned loving as a child. Every smile she gave him felt like a secret he wasn’t meant to have.

And one evening, as rain hammered against the roof, she looked at him with eyes that no longer held fear.

“Why are you doing this?” she whispered. “Because someone should care,” he answered.

His voice betrayed him. She heard it—the longing, the ache he could no longer hide. And when her hand brushed his, not in fear but in something dangerously close to tenderness, he knew he was lost.