TANGLED IN OBSESSION

Chapter one : The first glance

The air was thick with the smell of rain as I stepped out of the taxi, the skyline of the city looming behind me. My father’s voice echoed in my head—he’d called just a week ago, telling me it was only for a year, just until I finished high school. His old friend, Victor Valente, had offered me a place—just a temporary move, until I got settled for college. I thought it would be easy, just a few months away from the familiar small town. But I didn’t know then that the moment I stepped into Valente’s world, everything would shift.

The front door swung open, and there he was—Dante. Tall, still, as if carved from the same marble that lined the foyer. His eyes locked onto me—dark, sharp, and unreadable—like he was measuring every inch of me in a single glance. I didn’t know it then, but from that strange encounter, his obsession would coil around me like a chain. He didn’t move, didn’t smile—just watched, as if he’d been waiting for me all along.

I tried to keep my breathing steady as I stepped inside, the cool air of the mansion brushing against my skin like a secret waiting to be shared. The silence was thick, every footfall echoing as if the house itself held its breath. Dante didn’t follow me; he stayed anchored to the top of the stairs, as if bound by some invisible force. I forced a small smile at a passing servant who gave me a polite, distant nod, and I walked toward the room they said was mine.

Inside, the air was quieter, almost too still, as if the walls were watching. I unpacked slowly, each movement deliberate, but my mind kept drifting back to him—how he stood like a statue, how those eyes held something dark, something dangerous. Was it just curiosity, or had he already claimed me, without a word? I sat on the edge of the bed, my pulse racing, and realized that this wasn’t just a house; it was a maze, and somehow, I had already taken my first step inside.I ran my fingers along the edge of the blanket, the soft fabric a small comfort in the cold stillness. Outside, I could hear the faint rustle of wind through the trees, but inside, it was like time stood still. Each tick of the grandfather clock in the hall sounded impossibly loud, like a heartbeat I wasn’t sure was mine or his. I closed my eyes, trying to push away the tightening feeling in my chest, but his face kept drifting behind my eyelids—still unreadable, like a riddle I wasn’t ready to solve

I rose and walked to the window, pressing my palm against the cool glass. The city lights were distant, blurred by mist, and suddenly I felt small, like a leaf carried by a current I couldn’t see. What was I supposed to do here, in this labyrinth of luxury and silence? My heart pounded as the faint sound of a floorboard creaking broke the stillness. I turned, but no one was there. Still, I wasn’t alone—not really. And somewhere in the walls of this grand house, Dante waited, a shadow with a hunger I couldn’t yet name.