"The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist." Charles Baudelaire

Veronica

My eyes flickered open, and for a moment, I was lost in a sea of soft petals. A dizzying fragrance of roses, heavy and cloying, filled the air. I was lying in a bed draped in luxurious silk sheets, surrounded by a profusion of red roses – on the nightstand, the dresser, even scattered across the floor. It was beautiful, opulent, and utterly terrifying.

Memories of the previous night flooded back – Hayley’s apartment, the shadowy figure, the needle, the blackout. I’d been abducted. But this time… this felt different. There was a disturbing intimacy to this scene, a perverse sense of romance that sent shivers down my spine.

I tried to sit up, but my body felt heavy, sluggish. Panic clawed at my throat. Where was I? Who had brought me here?

A door creaked open, and a figure stepped into the room. My breath hitched in my chest. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a lean, muscular build. His hair was dark, his eyes a piercing blue that seemed to burn into me. He was strikingly handsome, with a boyish charm that belied the sinister glint in his eyes.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," he said, his voice smooth as velvet. He held a single red rose, offering it to me with a gentle smile.

My mind reeled. I knew exactly who he was. It couldn't be… but it was.

"Liam?" I whispered, my voice hoarse with fear and disbelief. "It was you?"

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He chuckled, a low, melodious sound that sent chills down my spine. "Surprised?" he asked, his smile widening. "Yes, it's been me, Veronica. All this time." He stepped closer, his eyes burning into mine. "I've been in love with you since the moment I met you. Since that first day I saw you with my stupid, useless brother. He never deserved you, never appreciated you."

Liam. Julian's younger brother, only three years younger than us. Quiet, kind Liam. The Liam who was always shy around me, who I’d never imagined capable of… this. The Liam who had been harboring this twisted obsession all these years.

"But… why?" I stammered, my voice trembling.

"Because you're mine, Veronica," he said, his voice laced with a disturbing possessiveness. "You were always meant to be mine." He paused, his smile twisting into something darker. "I was biding my time, waiting for the perfect moment. But with Julian getting out of jail… it was only a matter of time before you realized it wasn't him stalking you. I had to accelerate my plans. And it worked out perfectly, didn't it?"

He reached out, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. I flinched, recoiling from his touch.

"Don't be afraid," he murmured, his eyes filled with a twisted adoration. "I would never hurt you. I love you, Veronica. I've always loved you." His eyes flickered down to my lips, then back up to mine. "Do you know how many times I used to hide in Julian's closet, just to watch you two? To imagine it was me with you… to imagine your soft skin beneath my fingertips…" He trailed off, a strange, breathless quality to his voice. "I'd close my eyes and… and I'd pleasure myself, thinking of you, Veronica. Of you and me."

My stomach churned. His words were a violation, a grotesque invasion of my privacy, my memories, my very being. I felt sick, trapped, and utterly terrified. This wasn't just obsession; it was madness.

"You're insane," I whispered, my voice trembling.

His smile vanished, replaced by a look of hurt, almost childlike vulnerability. "No, Veronica," he said softly. "I'm just in love. And now, finally, we can be together. Just you and me. Forever."

He reached for my hand, his touch sending a jolt of fear through me. I pulled away, shrinking back against the headboard.

"Don't touch me," I hissed.

His eyes darkened, the hurt replaced by a cold fury. "You'll learn to love me, Veronica," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You have no choice."

He stood up, his gaze lingering on me, a mixture of obsession and menace swirling within them. "I have to go now," he said. "But I'll be back soon. And when I return… you'll be ready for me."

He turned and walked out of the room, leaving me alone in the suffocating scent of roses, trapped in a nightmare I knew I couldn't escape. The realization crashed down on me, heavy and suffocating: My stalker wasn't just some faceless phantom. He was someone I knew. Someone I had trusted. Someone who was now holding me captive in his twisted world of love and obsession. And I had no idea how to get out.