VICIOUS OBSESSION

Rosana's pov

I watched in horror as my husband-to-be, the man I was supposed to marry tomorrow, was forced to sign a document with a gun pressed to his temple. This wasn't how I had imagined the night before my wedding-the most joyous and anticipated day of my life. Instead, it felt like a nightmare I couldn't escape from.

The soft clink of the pen as it touched the paper echoed in the silence, but it wasn't the sound of a promise. It was a signal of something far more sinister. My heart pounded in my chest, every beat a reminder of how quickly my world had turned upside down.

Two men had barged into our home-our sanctuary. His presence was suffocating, his dark eyes cold and calculating. Every inch of him screamed danger, like a predator circling its prey.

I wanted to scream, to fight back, but fear held me in place. This wasn't just any man. This was Alexander Grey-the name that everyone whispered in fear. A mafia kingpin who had no mercy. His reputation preceded him, and now he was standing in my home, making demands that myfiancé couldn't refuse.

I couldn't understand what was happening. How had we gotten here?

But there was no time to question it. As the document was signed, I saw my fiancé's handshake. His eyes met mine-full of desperation, and regret-and for the first time, I saw the fear in his eyes that I had never known existed.

The two men grabbed my arms and dragged me off the floor like I was nothing. I kicked and twisted, struggling with everything I had, but they were too strong. My screams went unheard. Their iron grip never faltered.

"Let me go!" I cried, but they didn't even flinch.

They shoved me into a black car parked outside, and before I could get a proper look at it or figure out who they were, one of them tied a black cloth over my eyes. The engine roared to life.

"Where are you taking me?" I shouted, but no one answered. My voice cracked as panic gripped

me tighter than their hands ever could.

I could still hear faint murmurs from my family in the distance. I tried to listen, desperate for any sign of help, but soon their voices faded into silence. All I could hear was the hum of the car as it sped down a road I couldn't see, toward a destination I didn't know.

The world around me felt like it had stopped. My mouth was taped shut, my hands tied behind my back. Fear coursed through me, growing heavier with every passing second.

Eventually, the car stopped. The men yanked me out roughly, dragging me forward as I stumbled to keep up. My legs felt like jelly. When we entered some kind of building, they finally removed the blindfold and tape.

Blinking against the sudden light, I could barely take in my surroundings. The house-or was it a mansion?-was enormous and eerily silent, but that wasn't the most alarming part. Armed men stood at every corner, their eyes cold and unfeeling. Each one carried a gun like it was an extension of his body.

"Where am I? Why am I here? Let me go!" I screamed, trying to pull away again, but it was pointless. The men holding me had no intention of answering.

"Let her go," a deep, commanding voice said from somewhere above. The men instantly released me, and I stumbled forward, almost falling. I looked up, my heart pounding as I searched for the owner of the voice.

At the top of a grand staircase, a man stood holding a glass of liquor in his hand. He was tall, his presence exuding authority. His sharp features and piercing eyes might have been attractive in any other situation, but right now, I didn't care. All I cared about was getting out of this place and going home.

Tomorrow is my wedding. I shouldn't be here. I should be with my family, preparing for the happiest day of my life-not trapped in some strange house with a stranger.

The man descended the stairs slowly, each step deliberate, his aura radiating power. Everyone in the room seemed to shrink as he approached.

When he reached me, he stood silently for a moment, studying me like I was some kind of puzzle he couldn't figure out.

"I told you not to hurt her," he finally said, his voice low but full of fury. Without warning, he smashed the glass in his hand to the floor. The sound was deafening, and everyone in the room flinched, except for him.

"Sir, we're sorry," one of the men stammered, bowing his head in fear.

The man ignored them and turned to me. He reached out and untied the cloth that bound my hands, his touch surprisingly gentle.

I looked up at him, confused and angry. "Why am I here? What do you want from me?" My voice was shaky, but I didn't care.

He didn't answer my question. Instead, he shot a glare at the men who had brought me here. "Get out," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. The men scurried away like frightened animals.

I stared at him, trying to make sense of what just happened. Why did he care if they hurt me? Why was he angry? And more importantly, who was he?

But before I could ask, he turned to me again, his expression unreadable. "You're safe now," he said, his voice softer this time.

Safe? I thought bitterly. How could I feel safe in a place like this, with a man like him?

Please, let me go," I begged, my voice trembling. "I'm not supposed to be here. Tomorrowismywedding. I need to go home." My eyes searched his face for any sign of mercy, hoping- praying- that he would listen to me.

But he didn't. Instead, he smirked, tilting his head as if amused by my plea. "Don't say that," he said, his voice calm but firm, the kind of tone that made my skin crawl. "This is exactly where you're supposed to be."

I froze, his words slicing through me like a blade. "What do you mean?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

He stepped closer, and I instinctively took a step back. The faint scent of his cologne mixed with the tension in the air, and it made me feel even more trapped.

"You're mine now," he said simply as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

His? My mind raced, trying to piece together what he meant. "Yours?" I repeated, my voice rising. "In what way? How? I don't even know you!"

He chuckled softly, the sound sending chills down my spine. "You don't need to know me to belong to me."

My mouth opened, but no words came out. This couldn't be real. This had to be a mistake- horrible, twisted mistake. "You can't just... take someone," I stammered, my heart pounding so loud I could hear it in my ears. "I'm not some object you can claim!"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he took another step forward, closing the distance between us. His gaze was intense like he was looking straight through me. "You're not an object," he said, his tone softer now, almost as if he were explaining something to a child. "You're much more than that. That's why you're here."

Tears welled up in my eyes. "This is crazy," I said, shaking my head. "You can't do this. My family will come for me. They'll find me."

He smiled, but it wasn't comforting. It was the kind of smile that told me he was in control and knew it. "Your family won't find you," he said with chilling certainty. "Not unless I want them to."

I took another step back, but my heel hit something on the edge of the couch, maybe stopped, cornered. "Why are you doing this?" I demanded. "What do you want from me?"

His eyes softened for a moment, but his expression remained unreadable. "I saw you, and I couldn't stop thinking about you," he admitted, his voice low but steady. "I don't expect you to understand right now, but I had to have you. I always get what I want."

My mind reeled. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "That's not love," I said, my voice shaking with a mix of fear and anger. "That's obsession. You don't even know me!"

"You're right," he said, surprising me with his honesty. "But I will."

There was no escaping him. I could feel it in the air, in the way his men obeyed his every word without question, in the way he spoke as if the world itself bent to his will. And yet, I couldn't let him break me.

"Tomorrow is supposed to be my wedding," I said through gritted teeth, trying to keep my voice steady. "You have no right to ruin my life."

His jaw tightened for a moment, and then he leaned in closer, his eyes locking onto mine. "Tomorrow was never going to be your wedding," he said softly but firmly. "Because from now on, your life isn't yours anymore. It's mine."

Tears spilled down my cheeks, but I refused to look away. I refused to give him the satisfaction of my fear, even if I felt it consuming me.

This man-this stranger had just destroyed everything I knew. And yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.