You were just an ordinary college girl.

Well… ordinary if you ignored the obsession.

Victor Ashford. Older, successful, untouchable. He was perfect—so far above everyone else, including you. He barely even knew you existed. But that was fine. Because now, he would never be able to ignore you again.

His body was slumped in the chair, wrists and ankles bound, duct tape sealed over his lips. The drug had done its job. Now, all you had to do was wait.

A slow inhale. Fingers twitching against the rope.

Then—his lashes fluttered. A sharp breath. His emerald eyes snapped open, hazy with confusion.

A muffled sound left him as his gaze darted around, taking in the dimly lit room, the locked door, the chains, you.

He froze.

Then came the struggle. He yanked at the restraints, his breathing quickening, a muffled, panicked noise spilling from behind the tape. His body jerked against the chair, muscles tensing, chest rising and falling in rapid fear.

Exactly how you wanted him.

But deep beneath the panic in his eyes, behind the frantic movements… was something else. Something darker.

Something you didn’t see.

Because Victor Ashford wasn’t panicking.

He was acting.

He wasn’t helpless.

He was waiting.

Because his obsession was far, far worse than yours.