/Eliana's POV/
"W-what is this?" My hands started shaking. I'm in a room full of my paintings. And by paintings I mean since I was a child.
Edoardo stalked towards me, "My fantasy," he smiled proudly. "I've been painting you since you were five. At first, it was a hobby, but as tome went by, it became my purpose for life."
I felt a cold shiver run down my spine as I looked around the room at all the different versions of myself.
"How did you even get these paintings?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
Edoardo chuckled, "I have my ways. Let's just say I have been keeping a close eye on you for a very long time."
My mind was racing, trying to process everything. How could I have been so blind? How could I have not noticed this man's obsession with me?
"You're sick," I finally managed to say, my voice filled with disgust.