July 28th, 2026
Inside the villa - 10:40 PM
Ian stood there in the moonlit terrace, the cold ocean breeze brushing against his skin, but it was nothing compared to the storm churning in his chest.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm the rush of emotions that surged at the sight of Ruth—her silhouette bathed in silvery light, her pale skin glowing like porcelain, her hair dancing gently in the breeze. It should have been beautiful. It was. And yet, to Ian, it was a nightmare.
Seeing her again, alone, so much closer than he ever anticipated, dragged old memories from the depths of his mind—some tender, others corrosive.
He hated how his heart skipped despite the hate, how a part of him remembered the warmth they once shared. But that was then. That was before everything.
Ruth turned around slowly, a soft, celestial smile gracing her lips. "Do you like my surprise?" she asked, her voice as smooth and alluring as a lullaby, as if she were offering a gift from the heavens.
Ian's fists clenched. He forced himself to exhale. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because," Ruth whispered, walking closer, barefoot on the marble floor. "Because I love you. And I want you to see how deep that love goes."
"This villa?" Ian gestured around, his voice trembling with disbelief. "You seriously think giving me this place will erase everything? This is crazy, Ruth. It's unhealthy."
Her expression didn't falter. If anything, it softened, as if she were comforting a child. "I'm doing this because I know you still love me, Ian. Deep down. This house, it's a symbol of what we could have—what we deserve."
"You're married!" Ian snapped, his voice cracking.
"You're married to someone infinitely better than me. And you have a life, Ruth. A real life. Why throw that away?" Ian added.
Ruth chuckled, light and carefree, like he'd told a joke. "Oh, Ian... you're so adorably naive sometimes. Leo? He was never the one. He was a... placeholder."
Ian blinked. "A placeholder?"
"Of course," she said sweetly. "You think I married for love? I married for stability. For access. For control. All of which I need—for us."
He stared at her, stunned. There was nothing playful in her tone anymore. It was dead serious, and chilling.
"No," Ian said, voice low.
"You left and....
" I moved on. I tried. I worked. I suffered. And I lived with the pain. But I moved on. So you should too. Please... stop this. Stop wasting your time on someone like me."
Ruth's eyes dimmed for a second, as if his words struck her. For a moment, silence swallowed them whole. Then she took a slow step forward.
"You want peace?" she asked, her voice now dipped in melancholy. "Like the peace you got when I left you like a dog on the sidewalk, Ian? You really think that was peace? Or did it just numb you until you forgot who you were?"
Ian looked away, jaw tight.
"Please," he muttered. "Just let me go. Let me live a quiet life. Forget me like you did before."
He turned and walked back into the villa, his heart pounding. Each step away from her felt heavier than the last. As he exited the terrace, he didn't look back.
Behind him, Ruth stood motionless.
Then, slowly, her lips curled. A grin. A creepy, slow, unsettling grin.
"Yes, Ian..." she whispered to the wind. Then, a giggle. Followed by a full-blown laugh. "Yes... you want to make this harder than I expected."
Her laughter grew louder, echoing off the stone walls of the villa.
"Then fine. You leave me no choice, my love," she said, eyes wide with manic devotion. "You forced me to do it the hard way."
She laughed again, twirling under the moonlight like a twisted goddess in a tragic fairytale. "You want distance? I'll give you obsession. You want silence? I'll give you screams. You want escape? I'll become the prison."
Her final laugh rang out like a bell tolling doom, wrapping the villa in an eerie sense of foreboding.
And somewhere in the distance, Ian walked alone down the lavish hallway, unaware of the war he had just ignited.
Ruth would not be denied. Not again.