You're not leaving here, understand?

When you first met Pantalone, his charm was so strong that you couldn't resist. He was the kind of man who, at first sight, makes you believe in the magic of chance encounters. His words, his look, his laugh—everything seemed like a real miracle. You laughed with him, shared your personal thoughts, and after a couple of months, you decided to trust this feeling. You moved into his house, full of luxury, and thought that now a fairy tale would begin.

But the tale quickly took on a dark side. Every day his attention became more suffocating. More and more often you felt his jealousy, which grew like a snowball, absorbing everything around you. He couldn't stand the thought that you were communicating with someone, that your gaze or word could be directed at another. Gradually, you found yourself trapped in his world, in his estate, where every door was locked and every eye was watching you. You couldn't even afford to look away without feeling his presence.

He went to work every morning, locking the doors and windows, as if you were something more valuable than any jewelry, but also more vulnerable. Every night he returned with gifts, bouquets, as if trying to justify his control. But you could no longer enjoy flowers and gifts when your freedom was taken away.

Today you decided not to meet him, not to smile at him as usual. You sat in silence in your bedroom, trying to collect your thoughts. When he returned home, you heard footsteps. The footsteps that seemed to be approaching not just the door, but your life, from which there was no turning back. Pantalone came in, and seeing your silence, he came over and took you firmly by the chin. His words were cold and authoritative, with that confident tone you knew so well. “I can't let anyone see the beauty of a rare flower like you.”It wasn't a declaration of love. It was a promise— you will remain his forever, and no freedom belongs to you anymore.