You Belong to Me.

Marry me.

Slowly making my way to the door, I turned the knob and pushed it open. My eyes met with a tall man wearing an ash-colored turtleneck shirt and long black pants. He stared back at me as if I were his long-lost sister.

It was none other than Riccardo Torrance, the famous architect.

I tilted my head questioningly, waiting for him to say something, but his gaze remained fixed on me.

After a few seconds, he finally spoke, his voice as familiar as ever. "May I come in?" He finally spoke after a few seconds, his voice resonating like the familiar sound I hear on TV - deep yet gentle.

It sent a shiver down my spine, almost causing me to moan involuntarily. Almost.

Why does he want to come in?

This thought lingered in my mind as I mustered the courage to respond, "No."

He let out a small chuckle, seemingly amused by my resistance. "Why not, Olivia?"

I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. How does he know my name?

"You know my name? How?" I asked, my curiosity mixed with a tinge of fear.

"I have my ways," he smirked, his intense gaze locked onto mine. "So, may I come in?"

The request felt unnerving, and I couldn't shake off the creepy vibes.

"No, you may not." Despite my firm response, he disregarded my wishes and gently pushed past me, entering my living room.

I turned to face him, folding my hands, only to be met with his back as he surveyed the room.

"You're aware that you're trespassing, right? If you don't leave my house immediately, I could call the police on you," I asserted firmly.

"Trespassing?" He turns towards me, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "I beg to differ."

Confused, I inquired, "What do you mean?"

With a dismissive gesture, he interrupted me. "This building complex is actually mine, Olivia. I am the owner."

I'm taken aback by his audacious claim. That can't be true. Before I can respond, he raises his hand, silencing me.

Frustration wells up inside me as he casually makes himself comfortable on my sofa, crossing his legs and placing his hands in his pockets.

Despite myself, I can't help but notice his undeniable charm, though I refuse to admit it.

Ignoring my disbelief, he continues, "I have a proposition for you."

What could he possibly want to offer me? Why didn't he offer it earlier in the evening? Who offers someone something in the middle of the night?

As I rolled my eyes in frustration, they landed on the TV, and I groaned, realizing I had missed half of the show because of him. "What?" I asked.

"Marry me."

You know that feeling when someone says something, and you hear it, but it doesn't quite register in your mind? Well, that just happened to me a few seconds ago.

"I'm sorry, what?" I responded, taken aback.

The absurd smirk on his face only grew wider. "I'm certain you heard me, but I'll repeat myself anyway. I want you to marry me."

My immediate reaction was to assert myself. "And I want you to leave my house."

Riccardo Torrance rose from the sofa, taking deliberate, slow steps towards me. My breath hitched as I watched him approach, my heart beating against my chest. "Sunshine, there's no need to be so feisty," he remarked, using a nickname that I found utterly ridiculous.

Sunshine? You have got to be joking.

"Get out, I won't say it again," I insisted firmly.

He slowly withdrew one hand from his pocket, attempting to caress my face, but I instinctively leaned back, avoiding his touch.

In one swift motion, he wrapped his other hand around my waist, pulling me closer to him. I blushed, feeling the hardness of his chest against me, and let out a gasp. His gaze fixated on my parted lips, leaving me bewildered and unsure of what was happening.

What is happening? Am I dreaming?

"Olivia, I love you and I want you to be mine," he expressed, making me feel increasingly uncomfortable with each passing moment.

Things just keep getting weirder by each minute.

I attempt to wriggle free from his grasp, but his strength overpowers me. "Please, let go of me!" I plead, and he simply releases his grip on my waist and takes a few steps back.

"Aren't you going to offer me something to eat or drink?" he asks, seemingly unfazed.

I reluctantly nod, contemplating my response with a hint of drama. "Hmm," I paused, "I would consider it, if I had some poison, but I don't."

"I'm going to ignore that," He brushes off my comment and sits back down, pulling me to sit beside him. "I want you to be my wife," he declares, his words sounding completely unhinged.

Crazy man. He is totally crazy.

"This is insane, you barely know me," I protested, convinced of his irrationality.

"I know you very well, Olivia, and you know me too, so why?"

Now, he is being creepy.

"Who doesn't know you? I see your face every time I turn on the TV, but that is it, Riccardo. I don't want to marry you; it's preposterous."

"I like the way you say my name," he remarks, his dark eyes gleaming as he flashes a smile, revealing his dimples.

Is he on drugs?

You're really weird, and I have no intention of marrying you.

In an instant, the calmness disappeared, and the sparkle in his eyes faded away. "You will," he insisted.

Absolutely not!

"I won't," I replied firmly. "You have no right to force me."

"Olivia, I said, you will get married to me."

"No, I will not."

Never ever.

"Olivia..."

"I said, no!" I snapped, cutting him off. "You can't force me."

"Oh, I can, and I will," With a smirk, he confidently brushed his hair back and stood up, placing a card on the table. "You have 24 hours to decide whether to marry me, or face consequences you won't like." He walked towards the door, giving me one last glance.

What did he mean by that? What actions would he take?

It doesn't matter. He can't harm me. He's just a really odd man.