I arrived on the island. The helicopter touched down smoothly, but my heart pounded as if the world itself had tilted beneath me. Every second without her had been an eternity, every detail I didn't know about her safety clawing at my sanity.
The wind carried a faint smell of the ocean, salty and sharp. I stepped onto the island, scanning every tree, every pathway. My instincts screamed that she was here, somewhere, alive. I didn't care about the kidnappers now—they were nothing but obstacles to be destroyed.
I moved faster than anyone could have imagined, my mind a storm of anger, fear, and desire. Then I saw her. Fiona. Standing by the small kindergarten building, laughing softly. A brush in her hand, a canvas in front of her, her hair tied loosely as she guided a group of children.
She didn't notice me at first. The sight of her, so alive and vibrant, made my blood boil. That was my Fiona. My obsession. My claim. And yet, here she was… smiling at another man. Robin.
Robin—the boy from the orphanage. The one who had shared his bread with her. He had grown into this calm, gentle presence, and she leaned slightly towards him, eyes bright, hands moving gracefully as she drew on the canvas.
I froze. Every nerve in my body screamed in jealousy, rage, and possessiveness. My chest tightened, and for the first time, I realized how much I truly feared losing her again. My fists clenched so tightly it was a wonder my knuckles didn't crack.
Fiona turned suddenly, her eyes widening slightly as she caught sight of me. For a split second, that soft smile faltered. Then, she froze. Recognition. Surprise. A flicker of fear.
I walked toward her, my pace slow, deliberate. Every movement was a warning: I was here. I was watching. I was claiming what was mine.
Robin stepped back slightly, his hands raised in a polite gesture. "Fiona—"
I ignored him. I didn't need words. My gaze was locked on her, and she felt it, the weight of my obsession, the promise of my control.
When I reached her, she didn't step away. Instead, she looked at me, curiosity and tension warring in her expression. "Liam…" Her voice was soft, hesitant.
"I told you I would find you," I said, my voice low, hoarse with emotion. "Do you realize what I went through to track you down?"
She swallowed, her lips parting slightly. "I… I didn't know—"
"You didn't know?" My voice rose, not in anger, but in the raw intensity of my feelings. "Do you have any idea what it's like to imagine you in someone else's arms, to imagine you smiling at another man? Do you?"
Her eyes filled with a quiet realization. She knew, deep down, that I had never stopped. That I had never let go.
Robin, sensing the tension, stepped back further. "I… I didn't mean—"
I cut him off with a glare so sharp it froze him in place. "Stay out of this. She's mine."
Fiona flinched at the harshness of my words, but she didn't look away. She had always been brave like that. But her chest rose and fell unevenly, her hand tightening slightly on her brush.
I reached out then, gently taking her wrist. She didn't pull away, though her eyes were wide. "Fiona, I warned you. No one touches you but me. Understand?"
She nodded slowly, biting her lip. Her vulnerability made me ache in ways I hadn't known were possible.
For a long moment, we just stood there, the tension thick between us. The children continued their drawing behind us, oblivious to the storm in our eyes. Robin remained a silent observer, aware that he was not part of this world, not now, not ever.
I leaned closer, my voice a whisper. "I don't care what the world thinks, who's here, or what they say. You belong to me. Only me."
Her lips trembled, a silent acknowledgment of the truth she couldn't voice. And then, for the first time in weeks, the storm inside me softened slightly. I could see her here, alive, and that was enough for a moment. Just enough to control the rage threatening to spill over.
But I knew this was only the beginning. The island, the safety, the new life she had begun—none of it could protect her from me. My obsession, my claim, my need to ensure she never left me again—this was eternal.
I stepped back slightly, letting the tension simmer, letting her catch her breath. "Tomorrow," I said, voice low and dangerous. "Tomorrow, we talk. You will not be anywhere without me knowing. You understand?"
She swallowed, nodding again. The fear, respect, and unspoken desire in her eyes only fueled my obsession further.
Robin finally spoke, his voice steady but cautious. "I think… I should leave you two alone."
I didn't respond. I didn't need to. My gaze never left Fiona. My control, my obsession, my possession—it all screamed in the silence.
As I turned to leave, I knew one thing for certain: nothing, no one, would ever separate me from her again.
She had found a new life, a place she called safe. But I… I was coming for her. Not as a visitor, not as a friend—but as the one who claimed her.
And no force on this island, no matter how strong, would stop me.