—
Vincent Charbonneau had lived his life according to other people’s expectations.
From a young age, his parents drilled into him the idea of success-prestige, money, a *real* career. He had wanted to become a chef, but they had made it clear: “Cooking is a hobby, not a profession. Study for a real job.” So here he was, a highly respected maternity doctor, wearing a crisp white coat in the sterile, monotonous walls of the hospital.
He hated it. The clinical routine, the repetitive nature of it all. Every day felt the same-until *he* walked in.
Rody Lamoree.
Vincent didn’t know what it was about him at first. Maybe it was the messy auburn hair, the powerful build, the way his green eyes glimmered with uncertainty as he walked into the ultrasound room. Rody had entered with his wife, Manon, her hand gently clasped in his, their bodies leaning into each other like they shared everything.
Vincent’s breath hitched in his throat. It was love at first sight.
It was irrational, dangerous even, but Vincent didn’t care. He’d felt nothing for years-no passion, no excitement. His life had been a dull, steady hum of routines and responsibilities, but now his heart pounded like it had awoken from a deep slumber.
The session had gone as expected. Manon was pregnant, and they were overjoyed. Rody’s soft laughter as he gazed at the ultrasound screen sent a sharp ache through Vincent’s chest. As they exchanged congratulations, Vincent barely heard the words. He was too focused on the easy smile on Rody’s face, the warmth he exuded.
But it wasn’t enough.
Vincent wanted Rody-*needed* him in ways he couldn’t explain. He didn’t care that Rody was married or that he had a baby on the way. In fact, it made Vincent’s desire burn even hotter. Rody’s devotion to Manon only added to the allure. What would it be like to tear that perfect, domestic life apart? To claim Rody for himself?
As the couple left the room, Vincent’s eyes lingered on Rody’s broad back. He knew he would see him again. This was only the beginning.
—
Weeks passed, and Vincent found himself volunteering to take every one of Manon’s appointments. He told himself it was because he wanted to ensure a smooth pregnancy, but deep down, he knew the real reason. He wanted more time to see Rody.
With each visit, the tension between them grew-at least for Vincent. He couldn’t stop imagining what it would feel like to pull Rody away from Manon, away from his perfect little life, and into his arms. He longed to kiss him, to feel the strength of Rody’s body beneath his hands.
But Rody barely noticed him. He was always focused on Manon, on the pregnancy, on the future he was building with his wife.
And that drove Vincent insane.
—
It happened on a rainy afternoon, during another routine appointment. Manon was talking animatedly about baby names while Rody sat quietly beside her, his hand resting protectively on her knee. Vincent couldn’t take it anymore. He had to act.
As Manon stepped out for a bathroom break, Vincent seized his moment. The room was eerily quiet, and for the first time, it was just the two of them. Rody glanced up from his phone, confused.
“Dr. Charbonneau?”
Vincent stepped forward, his hands trembling slightly. His heart raced, the thrill of it all driving him forward. “Rody,” he began, his voice low, almost a whisper, “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Rody blinked, clearly taken aback. “What?”
“I want you,” Vincent said, his words thick with desire. “I don’t care about anything else. Your marriage, the baby-it doesn’t matter. I know you feel it too. You don’t belong with her. You belong with me.”
For a moment, the room was silent. Rody stared at him, disbelief and disgust flashing across his face.
“Are you insane?” Rody hissed, pushing his chair back as he stood. His voice was a low, furious whisper. “I’m married. Manon is pregnant. You-what the hell is wrong with you?”
Vincent stepped closer, his gaze locked on Rody’s. “I don’t care,” he whispered harshly. “I haven’t felt anything for years, but when you walked into my office, everything changed. You can’t tell me you don’t feel it too.”
Rody clenched his fists, his body tense with anger. “You’re out of your mind,” he spat. “I love Manon. We’re starting a family. You think I’d throw that away for some… twisted fantasy of yours?”
Vincent’s jaw tightened. “You don’t understand,” he muttered, more to himself than to Rody. His fingers twitched at his side, aching to reach out, to pull Rody close. “I *need* you, Rody. Not her. You.”
Rody took a step back, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re disgusting. You think you can just *take* me away from her? You think I’d betray her like that? Get some help, Charbonneau. Whatever this is, it’s *wrong*.”
Vincent’s gaze darkened, a spark of something dangerous flickering in his eyes. “You’ll change your mind,” he said softly, his voice eerily calm. “You’ll see. I can give you everything. More than she ever could.”
Rody let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “You really are delusional.” He shook his head and turned towards the door. “Stay the hell away from us.”
As Rody left the room, Vincent stood still, his heart pounding in his chest. For a moment, doubt crept into his mind. Maybe Rody really didn’t feel the same. Maybe he was chasing a hopeless fantasy.
But then, as the door closed, Vincent’s lips curled into a slow, chilling smile.
He would get what he wanted. He always did. Rody would come around. He just had to wait.
After all, Vincent was a patient man.
—
It was only a matter of time.
—
Days passed, but Vincent’s obsession only grew stronger. He couldn’t stop thinking about Rody-his voice, his touch, the way his green eyes burned with anger when he had rejected Vincent. That fire in him, that passion-it was intoxicating.
Vincent began finding ways to involve himself more in their lives. He learned Manon’s due date, tracking her appointments, and making excuses to check in. He found ways to “bump into” them in the hospital or in town. He couldn’t let go-not now, not after finally feeling *alive* again.
Rody, meanwhile, grew more uncomfortable with each encounter. He told Manon something felt off about Vincent, but she dismissed it. To her, he was just their doctor-nothing more, nothing less. Rody didn’t know how to tell her the truth. He couldn’t even bring himself to explain what had happened in that room, afraid it would only complicate things further.
Yet, with each appointment, Rody could feel Vincent’s gaze lingering, could sense the man’s quiet persistence. It was suffocating. Rody tried to focus on Manon, on the baby, on the life they were building, but Vincent’s presence loomed like a dark cloud over their happiness.
—
One evening, Rody was heading out of the hospital, trying to shake off the unease that had settled in his chest. Manon was resting at home, and he was meant to pick up dinner on his way back. As he made his way through the parking lot, he heard footsteps behind him-soft at first, but growing closer.
He didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.
“Rody,” Vincent’s voice called out, low and urgent.
Rody stopped, his fists clenching at his sides. He didn’t want to deal with this-not now, not ever. But he couldn’t ignore it any longer.
“What do you want?” Rody asked, his voice tight, not bothering to turn around.
Vincent stepped closer, his breath warm against Rody’s neck. “You.”
Rody spun around, his eyes blazing with frustration. “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m *married*. You’re my wife’s doctor. This-whatever this is-it’s wrong.”
Vincent’s face was impassive, but his eyes burned with something deep and dangerous. “You think I care about right and wrong anymore? I’ve spent my whole life doing what’s expected of me, being who they wanted me to be. And I felt *nothing*. You’re the only thing I want, Rody. You can’t deny what’s between us.”
“There’s *nothing* between us,” Rody snapped. “This is all in your head, Vincent. You need to get help.”
Vincent took another step forward, his hand reaching out to brush Rody’s arm. “No, you just haven’t realized it yet. You *belong* with me. Not with her. She’ll never love you the way I could.”
Rody recoiled, yanking his arm away. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that.” His voice shook with anger. “Manon is my *wife*. We’re going to have a child together. How can you be so selfish?”
Vincent’s eyes darkened, a hint of madness flickering in their depths. “Selfish? Maybe. But I’m not going to live the rest of my life feeling nothing. Not when I know you’re out there, wasting away in a life that doesn’t deserve you.”
Rody shook his head, disbelief washing over him. “This is insane. You’re insane.”
Vincent smirked, his gaze never leaving Rody’s. “Maybe I am. But that doesn’t change the truth.”
Silence fell between them, heavy and suffocating. Rody’s pulse pounded in his ears, his mind racing. He could feel the weight of Vincent’s obsession pressing down on him, the suffocating intensity of it.
He had to end this. Now.
“Stay away from me. Stay away from Manon. If you come near us again, I’ll make sure you regret it,” Rody said, his voice low and deadly serious.
Vincent’s smirk faltered for a moment, but his eyes remained locked on Rody’s. “You’ll come around,” he whispered. “You’ll see that I’m the one you need.”
Without another word, Rody turned and walked away, his heart heavy with anger and unease. He didn’t look back, but he could feel Vincent’s eyes on him, following him like a shadow.
—
The weeks leading up to Manon’s due date were tense. Rody did everything he could to avoid Vincent, taking extra steps to ensure their paths wouldn’t cross. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Vincent was watching, waiting for his moment.
Manon noticed his anxiety, but Rody lied, telling her it was just stress about the baby. He didn’t want to worry her, didn’t want to taint the joy of their child’s arrival with the twisted obsession of their doctor.
But deep down, he knew this wasn’t over.
—
The day of the delivery finally arrived. Manon was rushed to the hospital, her labor progressing quickly. Rody was by her side the entire time, his heart pounding with both excitement and fear. He knew what this day meant. It was supposed to be the happiest day of their lives.
But when Vincent walked into the delivery room, his presence sent a chill down Rody’s spine.
Vincent’s eyes met Rody’s, and a slow, unsettling smile spread across his lips. “Congratulations,” he murmured, his voice dripping with dark amusement. “Looks like today’s the day.”
Rody’s stomach churned. He stood protectively by Manon, trying to focus on her, on their baby. But Vincent’s presence was suffocating, his gaze a constant, unwelcome reminder of the danger lurking just beneath the surface.
The delivery went smoothly, and soon, Rody held his newborn child in his arms, overwhelmed with love and relief. Manon smiled weakly from the hospital bed, exhausted but radiant.
But even in that moment of pure joy, Rody couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t over. He could feel Vincent’s eyes on him, watching, waiting. And he knew-deep down-that Vincent wouldn’t give up.
Not until he had what he wanted.
And Rody feared what that would cost.
—
As Rody held his newborn daughter, her tiny hand gripping his finger, the weight of everything melted away for a moment. The love he felt was overwhelming-pure and untouchable. This was what life was about. This was what mattered.
But even in this sacred moment, Vincent’s presence hung in the air, dark and looming. Rody could feel him watching from across the room, could hear his every breath as if it was closing in on him. The man was a constant shadow, an intrusion in what should have been the happiest day of Rody’s life.
Vincent stood at the foot of the bed, his eyes burning into Rody’s back. He looked almost serene, but the fire behind his gaze was unmistakable. His lips twisted into a soft, eerie smile as he watched the scene unfold before him.
“You’ve never looked more alive, Rody,” Vincent said softly, his voice dripping with something far more sinister than the moment allowed. “Fatherhood suits you.”
Rody stiffened, trying to focus on Manon and the baby, but Vincent’s words cut through the air like a knife. He didn’t want to look up, didn’t want to acknowledge the man. But he had no choice.
Slowly, he turned his head to face Vincent, his eyes hard. “You need to leave. Now.”
Vincent’s smile only grew. He took a step forward, his fingers tracing the metal rail of the hospital bed. “Why would I leave? I helped bring your child into this world. I should be part of this moment.”
Rody’s blood boiled. “*Get out*,” he growled, his voice low, trying to keep calm for Manon’s sake. She was exhausted, unaware of the tension brewing between her husband and the doctor. This was supposed to be her moment too.
Vincent tilted his head, eyes narrowing with amusement, as though Rody’s resistance was some sort of game. “You don’t get it, do you? I’ve waited my whole life for this. For *you*. And you think you can just shut me out now that you have a family? That’s not how this ends, Rody. This child… Manon… none of it matters.”
Rody’s grip on his daughter tightened. “What the hell are you talking about?” His voice shook, the tension mounting with each breath.
“You,” Vincent said, his voice barely above a whisper, but sharp, cutting through the air like glass. “*You* matter. I’ve lived in this prison of a life, being what they wanted me to be-doctor, son, puppet-feeling nothing, being numb. Until you walked into my office, Rody. You made me feel again. You’re the only thing that makes sense. Everything else-this baby, this woman-it’s just noise. Distractions.”
Rody’s chest tightened with a mix of fear and anger. “You’re insane,” he hissed. “You need help.”
Vincent laughed, the sound hollow and unhinged. “Insane? Maybe. But I’ve never been more certain about anything in my life. You can call me crazy, but that doesn’t change the truth.”
Rody stood, carefully handing the baby to Manon, who looked up in confusion. “Rody, what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” he said quickly, his eyes never leaving Vincent. “Just rest, okay?”
He took a step toward Vincent, fury blazing in his eyes. “You don’t get to talk about my family like that. You don’t get to *be* part of this.”
Vincent’s expression shifted, his smile fading into something darker, more desperate. His hand shot out, grabbing Rody’s wrist before he could move any closer.
“You think you can just walk away from this?” Vincent’s voice was a low growl, his grip tightening. “You think you can just forget what’s between us? You belong to me, Rody. And I won’t let anyone take you away from me. Not her, not your child. You’re *mine*.”
Rody yanked his wrist free, shoving Vincent back with all his strength. “Get out of here before I call security.”
Vincent stumbled, but his expression didn’t falter. His eyes glinted with something wild, something broken, but resolute. He took a step back, but his gaze remained locked on Rody, never wavering.
“You’ll come around,” Vincent murmured, his voice disturbingly calm. “You’ll see. This life you’re clinging to? It’s a lie. You’ll realize it soon enough.”
With that, Vincent turned and walked out, his footsteps echoing in the sterile hallway. Rody stood there, his chest heaving with adrenaline, his mind racing with the implications of what had just happened.
Manon stirred behind him, her voice soft and weary. “Rody, what was that all about? Why was he acting so strange?”
Rody didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His mind was too full of the fear that Vincent wasn’t done. That this was just the beginning.
—
Days turned into weeks, and though Vincent was no longer their doctor-Rody had made sure of that-his presence haunted them. Vincent would show up in unexpected places, lurking in the background of Rody’s life like a shadow he couldn’t shake.
It started with harmless encounters-passing by the park where Rody took his daughter, a glimpse of him across the street while Rody ran errands. But soon, Vincent’s obsession became more overt, more invasive.
One night, Rody woke to find a note slipped under their front door. The handwriting was jagged, erratic:
*You’ll see. You’ll come back to me.*
Rody’s blood ran cold.
Then came the photos. Pictures of Rody taken from afar-at the grocery store, walking his daughter in her stroller, sitting in the park with Manon. Each one was a reminder that Vincent was always watching, always waiting.
And with every note, every photo, Vincent’s madness became clearer. He didn’t just want Rody.
He *needed* him.
Rody knew it was only a matter of time before Vincent made his move. He just didn’t know how far Vincent would go.
—
It happened one stormy night, the sky crackling with lightning as the rain poured down. Rody was pacing the living room, restless and uneasy, when he heard the sound of shattering glass.
He rushed to the source, his heart hammering in his chest, and found the kitchen window broken, rain streaming in.
And standing in the doorway, soaked to the bone, was Vincent.
“Did you miss me, Rody?” Vincent whispered, his voice trembling with a twisted, manic excitement.
Rody’s breath hitched, eyes wide as he took in the sight of Vincent standing there, drenched from the rain, glass crunching under his shoes as he stepped further into the kitchen. His heart raced, pounding in his chest as the fear that had been festering for weeks finally erupted.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Rody’s voice came out stronger than he felt, his hands clenching into fists. He took a step back, positioning himself between Vincent and the hallway that led to Manon and the baby. His mind raced, desperately trying to figure out how to get rid of him without waking them up, without this escalating further.
Vincent’s eyes glimmered with an almost childlike wonder as he took in the house, his lips curling into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I couldn’t stay away, Rody. I’ve tried. But it’s pointless. You *belong* to me. Every second you spend here is a lie, a fantasy. I’m the one who can make you truly happy.”
“Are you out of your mind? You broke into my house!” Rody hissed, his anger rising alongside his fear. “I’ve told you before, Vincent-I have a family. I love them. *This* is my life now. You don’t get to be part of it.”
Vincent chuckled, a low, almost delirious sound. “Love? You call *that* love? You’re living a lie, Rody. You’re *miserable* with her. You think I don’t see it?” He took another step forward, his gaze intense, locking onto Rody’s. “You wake up every day with this mask on, pretending everything’s perfect, but it’s not. *I* can give you what you need.”
Rody swallowed hard, trying to steady his voice, trying to hold his ground. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know enough,” Vincent replied, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I know you’re trapped in this… this prison. You think you’re supposed to want this life, but deep down, you know it’s all wrong. I can see it in your eyes, Rody. You don’t belong here. You belong with *me*.”
Rody’s skin crawled, his mind flashing to Manon asleep upstairs, completely unaware of the danger standing right here, in their home. The thought of Vincent being so close to them, to *her*, made his blood boil.
“Vincent, get out,” Rody said through gritted teeth, his body tensing as he prepared for the worst. “I’m not going to ask again. Leave, or I swear I’ll-“
“Swear what?” Vincent cut him off, his voice suddenly sharp, cold. His demeanor shifted, the softness replaced by something dark, predatory. “You can’t scare me, Rody. You think you’re in control here, but you’re not. You’ve never been.”
Rody’s eyes narrowed. “If you don’t leave, I’m calling the police.”
Vincent’s smile returned, this time twisted and dangerous. “The police? Go ahead, call them. Tell them what? That your doctor’s been following you? That he’s in love with you?” He took another step closer, now mere feet away from Rody. “Do you think they’ll believe you? Do you think they’ll *care*?”
Rody’s heart pounded in his ears. He reached into his pocket, fingers shaking as he fumbled for his phone.
But Vincent was faster.
In an instant, he lunged forward, grabbing Rody’s wrist and slamming him back against the kitchen counter. Rody grunted in pain as the edge of the counter dug into his back, his phone slipping from his grasp and clattering to the floor.
Vincent’s face was inches from his now, his breath hot, eyes wild with obsession. “You’re mine, Rody,” he whispered, his grip tightening painfully around Rody’s wrist. “I won’t let anyone take you away from me. Not her. Not your child. No one.”
Rody struggled, shoving Vincent off with a burst of strength, sending him stumbling back. He darted for the door, his only thought to get out, to protect Manon, to end this nightmare.
But Vincent wasn’t done.
Before Rody could reach the door, Vincent grabbed him from behind, his arm wrapping around Rody’s neck in a chokehold. Rody gasped, clawing at Vincent’s arm as he struggled to breathe, panic surging through him.
“You don’t get to leave,” Vincent hissed into his ear, his voice low and menacing. “You don’t get to walk away from me.”
Rody’s vision blurred as the pressure tightened, his lungs burning. He was stronger than Vincent-he knew that-but the chokehold was cutting off his air, making it impossible to focus. He kicked back, his heel connecting with Vincent’s shin, and the sudden shock of pain loosened Vincent’s grip just enough for Rody to shove him off.
Rody stumbled forward, gasping for air, his throat burning as he turned to face Vincent, who was breathing heavily, eyes wide and manic.
“You’re out of your mind,” Rody spat, his voice hoarse, barely able to believe how far Vincent had gone.
“I’d do anything for you, Rody,” Vincent said, his voice trembling with emotion. “Don’t you see? This isn’t madness. It’s love. I’d burn the world down for you.”
Rody’s pulse quickened, fear crawling up his spine. “You’re sick, Vincent. You need help.”
Vincent’s expression twisted into one of desperation, his eyes pleading as he took a shaky step forward. “I don’t need help, Rody. I need *you*.”
But before Rody could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed down the stairs.
Manon appeared at the doorway, groggy and confused, her eyes widening as she took in the scene. “Rody? What’s going on?”
Vincent’s face darkened at the sight of her, his lips curling into a snarl.
Rody’s heart dropped. “Manon, go back upstairs. Now.”
But it was too late.
Vincent’s eyes flickered with a dangerous intensity as he stepped toward her, and Rody’s blood ran cold. In that moment, he knew Vincent wasn’t going to stop.
Rody’s heart slammed in his chest as he moved to block Vincent’s path, his body acting on instinct. “Don’t even think about it,” he growled, his voice thick with desperation.
Vincent’s eyes never left Manon, his face twisted with a grotesque mixture of jealousy and contempt. “She’s in the way, Rody. You know that.” His tone was eerily calm, like he was simply stating a fact. “She’s the reason you’re suffering. I could make it all stop.”
Manon, still groggy, took a shaky step back. “Rody, why’s my maternity doctor here? What’s going on?”
“I’m handling it,” Rody snapped, his eyes flicking toward her. “Go back upstairs. *Now.*”
But Manon didn’t move, too confused to comprehend the threat. Her gaze shifted between the two men, trying to make sense of the danger that had invaded their home.
Rody’s focus snapped back to Vincent, whose smile had spread, unsettling and cold. “I told you, Rody,” Vincent said softly, taking another step closer. “I’m doing this for you.”
In a flash, Vincent lunged again, this time toward Manon.
Rody’s body moved before his mind could process it. He charged forward, slamming into Vincent with full force, sending both of them crashing to the floor. The impact knocked the wind out of both of them, but Rody’s adrenaline pushed him forward, pinning Vincent down.
“You leave her out of this!” Rody roared, his hands gripping Vincent’s collar tightly, rage and panic burning through him.
But even with Rody on top of him, Vincent didn’t fight back. His breathing was shallow, his eyes glassy, almost serene. “You’re wasting your life, Rody,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “She doesn’t make you feel alive. Not like I do.”
Rody’s fist trembled, hovering just above Vincent’s face, his chest heaving with anger. He wanted to punch him, to make him stop talking, stop *thinking* this way. But the crazed look in Vincent’s eyes froze him.
“Why are you doing this?” Rody’s voice cracked as his grip loosened. He didn’t understand. How could anyone be this delusional?
“Because I *love* you,” Vincent replied, his voice soft, almost reverent. “And I know you love me too. You’re just too afraid to admit it.”
Rody recoiled, disgust rippling through him. He stumbled back to his feet, his hands shaking as he wiped them on his pants like they were somehow tainted by Vincent’s touch. “You’re insane,” he muttered, his voice thick with disbelief. “You’re completely insane.”
Vincent sat up slowly, his eyes never leaving Rody’s. “Maybe I am,” he said with a smile, “but you make me feel alive, Rody. For the first time in years, I feel *something.* And I know, deep down, you feel it too.”
Rody shook his head, stepping further away, his hands still trembling. “You need help. I-this isn’t-” He glanced toward the hallway, where Manon stood frozen in shock, and his resolve hardened. “I’m calling the police.”
Vincent’s face fell, a flash of desperation crossing his features. “Rody, no. Don’t do this.”
But Rody had already grabbed his phone, dialing as quickly as his shaking fingers would allow. He pressed the phone to his ear, his eyes locked on Vincent, making sure he didn’t move.
Vincent’s expression shifted, his voice dropping into a chilling calm. “You won’t be happy with her. You’ll come to me eventually. I can wait.”
Rody’s stomach twisted in revulsion as the phone connected. “Yes, I need the police-now. There’s a man in my house. He’s dangerous.”
Vincent smiled, a slow, eerie smile that sent a shiver down Rody’s spine. “We’ll see each other again, Rody. You can’t run from this forever.”
The sound of sirens in the distance filled the air as Vincent stood, his posture relaxed, almost as if he had already won. He took a slow step toward the door, his eyes still fixed on Rody’s, a promise hanging in the air between them.
“This isn’t over,” Vincent whispered, just before slipping out into the night.
The door slammed shut behind him, leaving the house in tense, suffocating silence.
Manon’s trembling voice broke through. “Rody… what just happened?”
But Rody couldn’t answer. He stood frozen, staring at the door, knowing deep down that Vincent’s words weren’t just a threat.
They were a promise.
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