Gabriel's Obsession

Prologue

My head throbbed as I struggled to regain consciousness. The softness beneath me was a stark contrast to the turmoil that churned within. Gradually, my eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the light that seemed to tap gently on my face. The room's expanse was undeniable; it was larger and grander than any space I'd ever known. The walls, a textured grey, spoke of opulence and excess. The reality settled in—I had been kidnapped.

Just then, the door to the room swung open, revealing a man dressed in a blue suit. As he stepped into the room, a flash of recognition coursed through me. It was the same man from that unsettling collision a few days ago. My heart raced; fear rippled through every fiber of my being.

"Angel, you're awake," he spoke, his voice smoother than I expected. "You were out for more than 10 hours."

My attempt to form words was stifled by the intensity of my fear. This man, who referred to me as "angel," was holding me captive. The mere thought of being ensnared in this situation was overwhelming. I couldn't quell my panic; my heart pounded as though trying to escape my chest.

In response to my visible distress, he attempted to offer reassurance, his lips curling into a smile. "Don't be scared of me, angel. I won't hurt you."

"Why... am... I... here?" I managed to stammer, my voice betraying my nervousness. My thoughts raced, and I found myself inquiring about Mark's whereabouts, grasping for any shred of familiarity in this unnerving scenario.

His demeanor shifted; his eyes darkened, and a sinister smirk graced his lips. "I brought you to my house. Now I'm never letting you go. That jerk is maybe somewhere searching for you. But you know what? I don't care. Because now you are mine."

My heart froze. The reality of his words sent shivers down my spine. This man, Gabriel Hamilton, was not just a mere eccentricity or obsession—he was dangerous, unhinged, and undoubtedly a threat to my well-being.

Summoning the remnants of my courage, I faced his gaze and declared, "You don't have the right to kidnap me. Being a billionaire doesn't grant you the power to do whatever you want. I'm going to report you to the police, you psychopath."

His response was a display of his anger—jaws clenched, eyes piercing mine with an intensity that sent tremors down my spine. "Listen, you little one," his voice thundered, "don't fucking raise your voice at me, or else I'm gonna hurt you."

I was trembling now, torn between fear and a desperate desire for escape. A fleeting thought struck me—I could make a run for it.