Framed Obsession

Prologue

Dutch Melrose -Match Made In Hell

The moment I saw her, I knew I had to make her mine.

It was as if time itself were frozen. Everything else faded to black, and the outside world had gone quiet.

I think some sort of unknown force had led me to this place in particular.

The fact that I was even contemplating not following through with this outlandish plan has me so fucking glad that I did.

I’ve seen many professionals, if you could even call them that, to help with my—what do they call them…

mental disorders? I think I’m fine. Perfect?

Fuck no. But fine? You could say that. Sure, I can be an asshole.

Selfish, greedy, persistent. But I’m just someone who knows what they want, and doesn't give a fuck about what I have to do to get it.

Psychopathic, that’s what they tell me. Someone with a personality construct characterized by a persistent lack of empathy or remorse.

Someone manipulative and impulsive. At least that's what the internet and the psychiatrists say. If someone is a psychopath, do they know they are? Does watching her every move ever since I laid eyes on her make me psychopathic? What about the plan I’ve been constructing to make her feel my presence? To have her be mine forever?

Seems relatively normal to me. If you see something you like, why not go and get it?

I mean, stalking in this day and age is more normalized.

More subtle. Most hide behind a phone or computer screen, missing the adventure and thrill.

It lacks creativity. Most never make a move to get what they want.

Just letting time escape them, sitting in wishes and what-ifs.

Me? I started by hacking into everything she owns. Watching her from afar until I learned her routine. Quickly, it became a physical hunt. Stalking her in the flesh is an exhilarating addiction. A screen doesn't do her justice, anyway. She is too fucking beautiful not to watch in person.

I wish I had found her sooner. Fuck fate for making me wait this long.

Parker Raines Therapy Center—the place that changed my life forever.

Not because therapy helped me; I’ve only managed one session so far, one painfully excruciating session, but because I laid eyes on her.

Unfortunately, it wasn't with the angel that enamored me, but with someone I knew I was going to see again, and not under the circumstances she may have expected. Not that I give a flying fuck.

My eyes are set on one girl, and she is already mine.