Meanwhile, Riccardo forwarded the clip to his friend and waited impatiently for the edited version. The moment it landed in his inbox, he opened it with greedy excitement. The video played smoothly, twisted and stitched until the scene looked intimate, almost tender, as if Alina had willingly leaned into him. His lips curved upward into a disgusting smile, the kind of smile that made even the dim light in his room seem uneasy.
"Hah… Alina," he whispered, stroking the edge of his screen with sick pleasure. "Now your boyfriend will dump you. You'll have no one left but me. You always come back to me."
He didn't notice the shadows swirling in the corner of his room.
He opened his social media page, typed Alina's name, and added a caption dripping with false affection.
My love.
He pressed "post."
Nothing happened.
He frowned and tapped again.
Still nothing.
"Server down?" he muttered. "What a joke. Come on…"
