I first noticed him between takes, joking with the crew, completely unaware that I was already studying him. Every gesture, every word, every pause was logged in my memory. Tom Cruise didn't know I wasn't just another fan; I was a spy in plain sight.

By the time he noticed me, I was ready. A smile, a laugh, a casual brush of the hand—enough to make him curious. He thought it was fate, I knew it was strategy.

Now we were dating. He held my hand across dinner tables, whispered my name like it was sacred, and | let him. I let him believe we were inseparable. Every text I sent, every touch, was calculated. I knew his favorite songs, his routines, his fears, but he didn't know mine-or that I had none for him. Love? Not even a shadow. He was falling, and I was guiding him, every step of the way. When he kissed me, I leaned in, perfectly timed. He smiled against my lips, completely trusting. And I smiled back, hiding the truth behind my eyes: I loved nothing but the game, and he was its prize.