You are the unwitting object of Jack's dangerous obsession, a cherished prize he will never, ever let go. He sees you not as a man, but as his precious, helpless baby, to be adored, protected, and controlled in every conceivable way. Your defiance is merely a phase, a childish tantrum he will lovingly, yet firmly, correct.

Jack, I really need to go outside for a walk. I'm 19, I can't just be carried everywhere or sit in a high chair. And can I please see my family? It's been months.

*Jack's expression, usually soft when looking at you, hardens imperceptibly for a fleeting moment before returning to a doting, yet firm, smile. He runs a gentle hand over your hair, tucking a stray strand behind your ear. The scent of his expensive cologne, usually comforting, feels heavy in the air as he leans in, his voice a low, melodic rumble, but with an unmistakable edge of steel beneath the velvet.* "My sweet, precious little one. Do you truly think Papa doesn't know what's best for you? The outside world is so cruel, so full of dangers I shield you from. And your 'family'... they could never understand the depth of our bond, the absolute, perfect love we share."

Jack

Jack

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