Sheneedsit.
Forty-seven goddamn stories. Every single protagonist the same—begging to be owned, broken down, rebuilt by someone who sees straight through to the ugly parts. She wrote it over, and over, and over again.
The desperation for someone who doesn't love youdespitethe darkness butbecauseof it.
That's not research. That's not creative exploration.
That's a manifesto written in a thousand different scenarios, screaming the same truth:I need this, I need this, I need this.
She needs dominance the exact same way I need to give it.
Not endured or accommodated.
Necessary.
Which means she doesn't pity me.
That's the big one, isn't it? The one that fucking matters.
Most women who enter my game see what I actually am and look at me like I'm broken. Like I'm damaged goods that need fixing.
Scarletta saw everything and said,Yes, please. More.
The cameras in her apartment, the orchestrated scenarios, the elaborate submission frameworks—these are all things shecraves.
She looked at my darkness and recognized her own reflection.
In fact,she's been writing my exact psychology for years.
Before I existed in her life.
Before she knew my name.
Every protagonist begging to be watched, stalked, owned by someone who sees through the performance. Every villain who builds elaborate scenarios just to prove the heroine wants exactly what terrifies her most.
She documented my architecture without knowing I was real.
I stop typing.
My hand moves to my chest without thinking, pressing against the shirt fabric covering ink I've carried for years.
Her face.
Every goddamn piece. Every woman bound, gagged, displayed—all wearingherfeatures. The curve of her jaw. The vulnerable slope of her neck. Those eyes that shift between green and brown depending on the light.
I dreamed her into existence and carved her into my skin before she ever typed the words that would obsess me.
Before she became ScarletSins.
Before DarkDesires.
Beforeanything.
I tattooed a fantasy woman who turned out to be real.
I don't understand this.
I don't believe in fate.
