March 7th
I can’t get the thought out of my head—Francesca carrying my child. It started as a fleeting fantasy, something I could brush off, but now it’s all I can think about. The idea of her body changing, growing round with my child... it feels like an obsession I can’t shake. The thought consumes me, day and night, filling every corner of my mind with an intensity I can barely contain.
I imagine it. Her hand resting on her swollen belly, the faint smile she’d give as she feels our baby move… my baby. It would be a part of me growing inside her, something no one else could ever give her. A bond that no one could break. She’d be mine, truly mine, in every way. Not just in my mind, but in reality, forever.
She doesn’t know it yet, but she belongs to me. No one else can have her. I’ve made sure of that. I’ve watched her, studied her, planned every detail. The men who look at her, the ones who think they have a chance—they’re fools. Grant was the biggest fool of them all, and I’m glad to be rid of him. They don’t know that she’s already spoken for, that she’s already mine in ways they could never understand. I’d never let anyone else touch her. I’d destroy them first.
I’ve kept my distance, played the role of the professional, of her boss. But it’s getting harder. The more I think about her, the more I want to close the distance, to claim what’s mine.
It’s strange, this possessiveness. I’ve never felt this way before. The need to keep her close, to protect her, to keep her all to myself—it’s overwhelming. I know it’s not normal, but normal doesn’t matter anymore.
I’ll make it happen. I’ll make her mine, completely and utterly. And nothing, no one, will ever take her away from me.
Not now, not ever.