The first time I saw her, I told myself to walk away. She wasn’t meant for me. She wasn’t meant for anyone, really. She's too soft. Too good. Too… innocent. That’s why I couldn’t stay away. She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s already mine. Every breath. Every step. Every second she exists—I’m watching. She’ll never be safe. Not from the world. Not from the people who want to take her from me. I see the way they look at her. Like she’s something they can steal. But she’s not theirs to take. She’s mine. Mine to protect. Mine to ruin. Mine to keep. And if they think they can have her, they’re already dead.