Gerrard drove through the streets to his mansion, his mind focused on the conversation with Leon about the school reunion he had no intention of attending. He'd left that school behind ten years ago, yet something unnamed called to him - something incomplete that had lingered since his teenage years.

And that's how Gerrard found himself surrounded by former classmates at the reunion banquet, his eyes scanning the crowd with a desperation he refused to acknowledge. Then he saw her - clad in a black gown that hugged her curves in all the right places. No longer the clumsy-lively girl from his memories, she had become a vibrant, beautiful woman. His woman, a voice in his mind claimed possessively.

That night, Gerrard understood the truth: what he'd felt 13 years ago wasn't infatuation. It was something deeper, more primal - an obsession that had never truly faded, merely slumbered. The sleeping tiger had awakened, stronger and hungrier than ever.

For seven days, he monitored her every moment, documenting her movements, learning her routines - a soul starving for its salvation. Finally, today, he had her in his claws.

Now she lies in his room, his territory where escape is impossible. Her hands chained to the bed but still movable, she sleeps peacefully under chloroform's effects. Gerrard leans closer, studying her tranquil face with obsessive anticipation. "Only mine," he whispers with a smirk, waiting for her to wake.