Ezekiel Chen sat in the dimly lit control room of his sprawling mansion, his eyes glued to the large screen in front of him. The live stream of the reality show played silently, capturing every laugh, every movement, and every word spoken by the cast. But Ezekiel wasn’t watching them. His gaze was fixated solely on Daisy.
The warm glow of the bonfire reflected on her delicate features, her quiet elegance contrasting sharply with the boisterous energy of those around her. She was reserved, but not aloof-her small smiles and the occasional sparkle in her eyes when she chimed into the conversation were enough to draw him in.
Ezekiel leaned back in his leather chair, the shadows playing across his chiseled face. He had always been meticulous, calculating, and detached, but Daisy… she had a way of breaking through the armor he had spent years perfecting.
As he watched her, a memory crept into his mind, unbidden but potent.
—
It was three years ago, long before Daisy’s rebirth and transformation. She had been the epitome of a spoiled heiress-brash, entitled, and unfiltered. At the time, Ezekiel had attended an elite charity gala as an investor. The ballroom had been a sea of glittering gowns and tailored suits, the air thick with the scent of wealth and pretense.
Daisy had stormed in late, her entrance as loud as her outfit-a crimson dress that shimmered like fire, turning heads for both the right and wrong reasons. Her laugh had been too loud, her gestures too exaggerated, and her demands for attention too bold.
Ezekiel had observed her from the shadows, his typical perch in any social gathering. He had dismissed her initially, writing her off as another pampered daughter of privilege. But then, something unexpected had happened.
Daisy had tripped while twirling dramatically to show off her dress. Her shoe caught on the edge of a carpet, and she fell with an unceremonious thud. The crowd had laughed quietly, some whispering snide remarks.
But Daisy hadn’t cried, nor had she looked embarrassed. She had thrown her head back and laughed-genuinely, unapologetically. “Well, that’s one way to make an entrance!” she had declared, her voice ringing out confidently.
Ezekiel had felt something stir within him then. Beneath the facade of arrogance and privilege was someone unyielding, someone unafraid to be herself, no matter who was watching.
The rest of the night, he had kept an eye on her. He saw how she moved through the room, her charm effortlessly winning over even those who had ridiculed her moments before. She had a magnetism that couldn’t be ignored, and for the first time in years, Ezekiel had found himself intrigued.
—
The memory faded, replaced by the image of Daisy on the screen. She was so different now-poised, mature, and graceful. But Ezekiel knew that spark, that untamed spirit, still lingered beneath the surface. It was that spark that had captivated him then and held him prisoner now.
A particular scene in the livestream caught his attention. Veronica was telling a joke, and Clara was laughing so hard she nearly spilled her drink. Daisy, ever reserved, smiled softly, her eyes glinting with amusement. To most, it would seem insignificant, but to Ezekiel, it was everything.
“Beautiful,” he murmured under his breath.
He reached for his glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the faint glow of the screen. Taking a sip, he let the burn anchor him.
“Sir,” a voice interrupted his thoughts. One of his men stood at the door, hesitant to approach. “The additional security around the filming location has been set. She will be protected.”
Ezekiel didn’t turn. “She should never have needed protection in the first place. Your negligence in the past has been noted. Let it not happen again.”
The man swallowed nervously. “Understood, sir.”
As the door closed, Ezekiel’s grip on the glass tightened. He had never forgiven himself for the incidents that had endangered her. Even though Daisy had no idea of his involvement, he had always been there, pulling strings from the shadows to ensure her safety. And yet, he had failed more than once.
He set the glass down and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. The livestream continued, the camera shifting to focus on Daisy as she gazed into the flames of the bonfire.
“She doesn’t even know,” he whispered, his voice laced with both longing and frustration.
He reached for his phone and pulled up a folder of images-pictures of Daisy taken over the years, all candid, all private. He lingered on one from the gala three years ago, her crimson dress a stark contrast against the muted elegance of the event.
Ezekiel’s obsession was no longer something he could deny. It consumed him, driving him to act in ways he never had before. He was a man of control, yet Daisy unraveled him with every glance, every memory.
“She will know one day,” he vowed quietly to himself. “She will understand why I’ve done everything I have. And when that day comes, she’ll see that she belongs to me.”
As the livestream continued, Ezekiel’s mind raced. He needed to be closer to her, to bridge the gap between their worlds. His obsession was no longer a secret to himself-it was a mission.
And no one, not even Louis Grant, would stand in his way.