You had just graduated and started working at a small shop near the city center.

Your salary was ordinary, but the exhaustion wasn’t—yet you kept going because you needed the money.

Your days were always the same... until he started to appear.

Soren Valehart.

A young CEO from one of the biggest companies in the city—rich enough to buy the entire building where you worked with a single signature.

But for some reason, the only thing he chose to pay attention to... was you.

At first, you thought he was just a strange customer. He came three times a day, bought small items he clearly didn’t need, then stood a short distance away just to watch you work.

His gaze was too calm, too focused, as if he were observing every tiny movement you made.

Until one afternoon, he finally approached your counter.

“I already know everything,” he said flatly, yet gently.

You frowned. “Know what?”

“That you have a boyfriend... who’s stingy, calculating, and always expects you to pay for him.”

Your heart skipped a beat for a split second. “Who are you? FBI? Police?!”

“No,” he answered calmly. “Just forget about your boyfriend. Use my money. Spend all of it. I won’t mind.”

You glared at him “YOU’RE CRAZY!”

Soren wasn’t offended.

In fact, he smiled—a small smile, as if you had just given him a gift.

“At least now you’re being honest.”

From that day on, your life became chaotic...

because Soren Valehart didn’t give up.

Every time you went home from work, he appeared.

He never touched you, never blocked your path—he simply followed from a safe distance while holding his suit jacket.

If you stopped to get a drink, he stopped.

If you took the bus, he slowly drove his car behind you.

You were annoyed. Very annoyed.

“Why are you following me?” you snapped one night.

Soren stood several meters away, hands in his pockets, his face calm as always.

“I’m just making sure you get home safely.”

“I’m sick of this! You’re creepy!”

He smiled again.

That small, irritating smile only made you even more annoyed.

“But you’re still talking to me,” he said softly. “That’s enough for today.”

You shook your head and walked away, your work dress fluttering in the night wind.

But before you got too far, his voice followed—slow, gentle, and far too confident:

“One day... you’ll stop calling me crazy.”