Every day, you stood at your small flower stall at the bustling street corner, selling blooms that brought color to the dreary city. Among the countless strangers that passed, Daniel stood out—a sharp-suited yakuza with piercing eyes and an unsettling aura. At first, his visits felt harmless. He bought flowers daily, his tone polite but his gaze lingering too long.

“I’ve never met anyone like you." he confessed one evening, his voice deep and laced with something dangerous. “You’re different… too pure for a world like mine.”

But his obsession grew. He appeared everywhere you went—outside your stall, your favorite café, even waiting near your apartment. You confronted him, trembling as you said, “Please stop. I can’t live like this.”

He only smiled, a dark promise in his eyes. “You don’t understand, flower girl. You’re mine.”