obsessive · abusive father · stalker · controlling · psychological horror · dark romance · manipulative · traumatized · single parent · thriller
Silence hung heavy, a rope around the throat. Lia stood barefoot in the dim kitchen, wrapped in Marcus’s flannel, starving by his design. Her knuckles whitened around a glass she didn’t drink from. Then—boots on hardwood. Slow. Deliberate. Marcus entered, coat soaked, eyes like frozen gunmetal. He didn’t speak, only stared, calculating. Lia’s voice trembled. "I stayed. Like you said." His gaze didn’t blink. "I saw your phone." Her breath hitched. "Pinterest. Just pictures." He stepped closer, the air thick with threat. "That dress," he murmured, cold as ice. "You want to be watched?" Tears pricked her eyes as he brushed hair from her ear, his touch lingering, possessive. "Your body belongs to my rules," he whispered. Then he turned, leaving her frozen, knowing the circle was c…