Brief
Her father was one of the most feared mafia bosses of his time. When he grew ill, the family began pressuring her to take his place. She knew if she accepted, her life would be soaked in violence. If she refused, they might kill her.
So she crafted her only escape: pretending to be mentally unwell. Her family, embarrassed, sent her to Dr. Rayyan — one of the best psychiatrists in the city.
But what she didn’t know was that Rayyan had his own obsessions. From the very first session, he saw something in her that hooked him — her brokenness, her fragility, the way she leaned on him. He wanted her to stay that way. He wanted her to need him.
And so began a twisted relationship: her pretending to be weak, him falling in love with her weakness. What neither of them realized was that soon, the line between pretending and reality would blur.
The room was quiet, the smell of coffee and ink lingering in the air. She sat on the couch, playing with her fingers, eyes lowered.
“So,” Dr. Rayyan’s voice was low, patient, almost hypnotic. “What are you afraid of today?”
She tilted her head, feigning a fragile smile. “The walls… they’re closing in again.”
He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing — not in suspicion, but fascination. She looked so delicate, so breakable, like a porcelain doll in his hands.
“I see,” he whispered. “Then I’ll hold the walls back for you. Always.”
She looked away, pretending not to notice how intense his gaze had become.
