
One moment, she’s sipping champagne in Paris, the next, she’s fleeing for her life. Rachel’s fairytale date in the City of Love spirals into a nightmare when she discovers her dreamy boyfriend’s sinister past. Can she escape before she’s next?
Do you believe in love at first sight? I know, I know… it’s a bit cliché, but I couldn’t help but wonder. I’m Rachel, a 30-year-old woman living her American dream in downtown Chicago. My life was simple—wake up, go to work, grab a coffee from the local shop, and occasionally indulge in a good book. That was until Robert walked into my life…
I met him at a charming little bookstore I frequented. We both reached for the same copy of “Pride and Prejudice”—classic, right? Our eyes met, and we both laughed.
“Well, this is quite the meet-cute,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “I’m Robert.”
“Rachel,” I replied, feeling a flutter in my stomach. “Are you a Jane Austen fan?”
“Guilty as charged,” he chuckled. “Though I must admit, Darcy Burke sets a rather high bar for us mere mortals.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, surprising myself with my boldness as I picked a book from the shelf. “I think there’s something to be said for modern-day charm.”
We chatted for nearly an hour, discovering shared interests and laughing at each other’s jokes. As we were about to part ways, Robert hesitated.
“I know this might seem forward,” he said, “but would you like to grab a coffee sometime? I know a great little place around the corner.”
I felt my heart skip a beat. “I’d love to,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.
From that moment, things just clicked. We exchanged numbers, and before I knew it, we were texting every day.
“Hey, Rachel, ever been to Paris?” Robert asked one evening after weeks of chatting.
“Only in my dreams,” I replied, chuckling. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking,” he said, his voice filled with excitement. “We’ve been talking for weeks, and I feel like I’ve known you forever. But we haven’t actually been on a proper date yet.”
“That’s true,” I said, my curiosity piqued. “What did you have in mind?”
“How about making that dream a reality? Come with me. Let’s have our first date in Paris.”
I was stunned. “Paris? For a first date? Are you serious?”
“Absolutely,” Robert replied. “Life’s too short for ordinary, don’t you think? We could spend a weekend there, see the sights, eat amazing food. What do you say?”
I hesitated, my mind racing. “That sounds incredible, but… isn’t it a bit much for a first date? We barely know each other.”
“I understand your hesitation,” Robert said softly. “But think about it… we’ve been talking every day for weeks. We know each other better than most people do on a first date. It’s just a chance to get to know each other better in a magical setting.”
His words were persuasive, and the allure of an adventure was too strong to resist. “You know what? You’re right. Let’s do it!”
“Really?” Robert sounded elated as he kissed my hand. “You won’t regret this, Rachel. It’ll be amazing, I promise.”
Soon, the day of our departure arrived. When I met Robert at the airport, he greeted me with the most stunning bouquet of red roses I’d ever seen. It felt surreal. He looked genuinely happy, and his eyes sparkled with excitement.
“Ready for an adventure to remember?” he asked, smiling.
“As ready as I’ll ever be!” I chuckled. “I still can’t believe we’re doing this.”
“Neither can I,” Robert admitted. “But I’m so glad we are. You look beautiful, by the way.”
I felt myself blush. “Thank you. You look great, too!”
The flight was smooth, and before I knew it, we were in Paris.
Robert called a taxi, and we went straight to this swanky restaurant. The place was fancy, with chandeliers and a pianist playing softly in the corner.
“This place is incredible,” I said, looking around in awe. “How did you find it?”
Robert smiled mysteriously. “I have my ways. I wanted our first date to be unforgettable.”
Hours melted away as we talked, champagne bubbles tickling our noses. We savored an exquisite meal, our laughter echoing between bites as we shared stories. For a moment, it felt like a fairytale.
When the bill came, Robert insisted on paying. “It’ll make me happy if you let me,” he said, his eyes earnest.
“Are you sure?” I asked. “It must be expensive.”
“Absolutely,” he replied as he paid the bill. “Tonight is my treat. You can get the next one,” he added with a wink.
“Alright, thank you,” I said, excusing myself to the restroom.
In the restroom, I was fixing my makeup when a woman approached me. She looked serious, almost scared.
“You need to leave, now,” she said, her voice low and urgent.
“What? Why?” I asked, confused. “Who are you?”
“My name is Cindy,” she replied, glancing nervously at the door. “I’m a detective from the States. Robert isn’t who he seems.”
“What are you talking about?” I demanded, feeling a pang of fear and disbelief.
“I’ve been tracking him,” Cindy continued. “He’s brought at least eight women to this restaurant in the past six months. Some went missing, others lost their jobs and disappeared. You could be next.”
My heart pounded. “This is crazy. How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
“I know this is hard to believe, but you need to trust me on this. Block his number and leave,” she desperately added, frowning.
I felt a wave of fear and disbelief. “But he’s been so kind… and genuine. Are you sure you have the right person?”
“I’m positive,” Cindy insisted. “Men like Robert are experts at appearing charming. It’s how they lure their victims. Please, for your own safety, you need to go.”
Without saying another word, I nodded, blocked Robert’s number on my phone, and rushed back to the table. Robert looked up, puzzled.
“I’m sorry, I have to go,” I said, my voice trembling.
“Go?? Rachel, what’s going on?” he asked, standing up. “You look pale. Are you feeling alright?”
“I can’t explain. Don’t try to find me,” I said, turning and heading for the door.
“Rachel, wait!” Robert called after me. “Please, tell me what’s wrong. Did I do something?”
I got into a taxi and told the driver to take me to the airport. Sitting in the back seat, I finally began to calm down. Cindy’s words echoed in my mind. Was Robert really dangerous?
When I arrived at the airport, my stomach dropped. Robert was there, waiting for me.
“Please, Rachel, talk to me,” he said, approaching me cautiously. “What did I do wrong?”
“This trip was a mistake. Just leave me alone,” I said, trying to stay calm.
“It’s all because of her, isn’t it?” he asked, his face etched with anger and sadness.
“Who?” I was genuinely confused.
“A woman around thirty, blonde hair, flower tattoo on her right arm? Name’s Cindy.”
“Yes, she said she’s a detective. Is that true?” I gasped.
Robert’s face fell. “She’s not a detective,” he confessed. “She’s my ex-girlfriend. She’s been obsessed with me… stalking me for two years, ruining my relationships. I didn’t tell you because I thought it was over. I’m so sorry.”
I didn’t know what to believe. “You should have told me about her. Now I’m scared and can’t trust you.”
“I understand,” Robert said softly. “I made a mistake by not being honest with you. I was afraid that if I told you about Cindy, you’d think I was damaged goods or something. I really like you, Rachel, and I didn’t want to scare you away.”
“But now I’m more scared than ever,” I replied, feeling tears well up in my eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” Robert said, reaching out but stopping short of touching me. “Please, let me help you get back to the States. You can take the ticket I bought. I’ll stay here and come back tomorrow.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, still wary.
“Absolutely,” he nodded. “Your safety and comfort are what matter most to me right now. I hope that one day, when you’re back home and feeling safe, you’ll give me a chance to explain everything properly.”
On the flight home, I couldn’t stop thinking about everything that had happened. Who was telling the truth?
Once I was back in Chicago, I decided to find out more about Robert and Cindy.
I contacted a private detective. Over the next few days, I found some of the women Robert had dated. They were alive and well but confirmed that Cindy had harassed them, forcing them to quit their jobs and disappear from Robert’s life.
This supported Robert’s story, but I still had doubts.
One evening, my phone rang. It was an unknown number.
“Hello?” I nervously answered.
“It’s Cindy. Robert is dangerous. I’m just trying to protect you,” a woman spoke.
“Cindy? How did you get my number?” I asked, my heart racing.
“That’s not important,” she replied urgently. “What matters is that you understand the danger you’re in.”
I listened as she detailed Robert’s supposed manipulations and sent me a file of disturbing information about his past.
“But why should I believe you?” I asked. “The other women I spoke to said you were the one harassing them.”
“They’re afraid of him,” Cindy insisted. “Robert has a way of making people believe whatever he wants them to. Please, you have to trust me.”
Unsure of who to believe, I agreed to meet Cindy at a café. She seemed sincere and provided more evidence against Robert.
But a shiver ran down my spine as I listened. Despite her convincing story, a shadow of doubt lingered. My gut told me Robert held the missing piece.
I decided to confront him.
He looked genuinely distressed and denied everything, showing me a restraining order he had against Cindy.
“Rachel, I know this whole situation is confusing and scary,” Robert said. “But I swear to you, I’ve never hurt anyone. Cindy is the one who’s been causing all this trouble. I should have told you about her from the beginning, and I’m sorry I didn’t.”
“But why would she go to such lengths?” I asked, still uncertain.
“She… she has some mental health issues,” Robert explained hesitantly. “When we broke up, she couldn’t accept it. She became obsessed with the idea that I was some kind of predator. I’ve tried to get her help, but she refused.”
As I reflected on the situation, it became clear that Robert and Cindy each held their own perspective on the truth. The actual reality, I suspected, lay somewhere in the middle of their conflicting narratives.
Recognizing the potential danger to my well-being, I decided to cut ties with both of them.
During our last exchange, I mustered up the courage to tell Robert, “I’m afraid I can’t continue being a part of this, Robert. The situation has become far too intricate and perplexing for me to handle.”
With those words, Robert and I went our separate ways.
This whirlwind experience served as a powerful lesson in the importance of trusting my gut instincts and exercising caution when allowing new people into my life.
While the dream trip to Paris had been thrilling, it also served as a sobering reminder that appearances can be deceiving. I learned that sometimes, the wisest course of action to protect yourself is to walk away from trouble.
Old Woman Took My Hand and Started Predicting My Future, Persuading Me to Cancel My Wedding

When a strange woman grabbed my hand and warned me not to go through with my wedding, I brushed it off. But when I found out she was a paid actress, I had to know: who would go to such lengths to stop me from marrying the man I loved?
I was never the superstitious type. I’m Penelope, just your average woman juggling work, wedding plans, and spending time with my best friend, Esther. Life had been a blur of excitement lately. Cameron, my fiancé, was everything I could ever ask for — thoughtful, funny, and supportive.

A grayscale photo of a loving couple | Source: Pexels
Our wedding was just a couple of months away, and Esther, as usual, was by my side through all the chaos, helping me pick out flower arrangements, dresses, and everything in between.
It was a normal Saturday afternoon when the strange encounter happened. Esther and I had just left our favorite boutique, where we’d spent hours browsing through racks of dresses and debating which honeymoon destinations were overrated.
She was still trying to convince me that Fiji wasn’t all it was cracked up to be as we strolled through the supermarket, picking up a few groceries for the week.

A shopping cart in a grocery store aisle | Source: Unsplash
We were halfway down the cereal aisle when I felt someone standing a little too close behind me.
Turning around, I was face-to-face with an old woman: her dark hair messy, her piercing eyes locked onto mine. Before I could react, she grabbed my hand, her grip firm, almost desperate.
“I feel four scars,” she said, her voice low and gravelly. “All on your legs. An animal… a wolf?”

An old woman with dark messy hair and piercing eyes is standing in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney
I froze, my heart nearly stopping. My legs — she was right. I had those scars, deep and jagged from when a wolf attacked me on a family camping trip when I was five. I hadn’t told many people about that. How could she possibly know?
Esther, who had been distracted by a message on her phone, turned just in time to see the woman holding my hand. “Hey! Let go of her!” she snapped, stepping closer, ready to intervene.

A woman looking angrily at someone while standing in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney
But the woman didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes stayed locked on mine. “I see your upcoming wedding,” she murmured, her grip tightening. “Don’t do it. Trouble awaits you.”
My breath caught in my throat. I felt like I was rooted to the spot, unable to move. How did she know about my wedding? What kind of “trouble” was she talking about?

A woman looks surprised and worried while standing in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney
Before I could ask her any of these questions, Esther pulled my hand free from the woman’s grip with one sharp tug. “Are you out of your mind?” Esther hissed at the woman. “Get lost, witch!”
The woman blinked, as if waking from a trance, then slinked away without another word. I stared after her, my heart still pounding.
“Penelope, are you okay?” Esther asked, her voice softening now that the stranger was gone. “She was probably just some crazy lady. Don’t let it get to you.”

A woman looks concerned while standing in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney
I tried to laugh it off. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” I said, though deep down, I wasn’t so sure. For the next two weeks, her words haunted me. “Don’t do it. Trouble awaits you.” They replayed in my mind like a broken record, and no matter how many times I told myself it was nonsense, I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling.

A woman looks worried and thoughtful | Source: Midjourney
Then yesterday, while having lunch with my mom at a small café, I saw her again — at least, I thought I did. Across the street, a woman was hurrying into a shop, but this time, her hair was blonde, her eyes light. She looked completely different, but there was something about her, something familiar.
Without thinking, I jumped up from my chair and rushed outside. “Hey! You!” I called, catching up to her just as she was about to enter the shop.

A woman with blonde hair standing in a flower shop | Source: Midjourney
The woman turned, startled. “Let me go!” she shrieked as I grabbed her wrist.
“Who are you?” I demanded, tightening my grip.
“I… I’m an actress,” she stammered. “I was paid to scare you into canceling your wedding.”
My heart dropped. “Paid? By who?”
She hesitated, then reluctantly pulled out her phone. My blood ran cold when she showed me the photo on her screen.
I could barely feel my legs as I stared at the picture on her phone screen.

An extremely shocked woman staring at a phone screen | Source: Midjourney
It was Cameron. The man I was supposed to marry in a few months. The man I trusted, loved, and thought I would spend my life with.
“He… he paid you?” My voice cracked as I asked, still trying to process the betrayal.
The actress shifted nervously, glancing around as if afraid someone might see us. “Look, I don’t want any trouble. I was just doing my job. Please let me go.”
I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. “Why? Why did he do this?”

An angry and upset woman | Source: Midjourney
“I don’t know,” she admitted, rubbing her wrist where I had grabbed her. “He just said he couldn’t go through with the wedding, but didn’t know how to tell you.”
I felt a burning rage rise in me, but it wasn’t the fiery kind that made me want to scream. No, this was cold. Ice cold. He couldn’t call off the wedding himself, so he hired someone to manipulate me into doing it? The sheer cowardice was almost laughable. Almost.

A closeup of a man paying money to a woman | Source: Pexels
I exhaled slowly, forcing a calm that I didn’t feel. “Thank you for being honest,” I muttered, turning away from her. I didn’t wait for a response. My feet carried me down the street in a daze. My mind raced, thoughts of Cameron, the wedding, everything spinning out of control.
By the time I got home, I had already made up my mind. Two could play this game.
That evening, I set the table for dinner as if nothing had happened. I cooked his favorite — roasted chicken with rosemary potatoes — and made sure everything looked perfect.

A photo showing roasted chicken served with rosemary potatoes for dinner | Source: Midjourney
The scent filled the apartment, warm and comforting, masking the cold storm brewing inside me.
When Cameron walked in, his usual cheerful demeanor seemed a bit off. Maybe it was guilt gnawing at him. Good. He deserved it.
“Hey, babe!” he greeted me with a kiss on the cheek, oblivious to what was coming. “Something smells great.”
“Just your favorite,” I replied, forcing a smile as I placed the plates on the table. “I thought we could have a nice night in.”

A woman forces a smile while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
He sat down, and for a moment, we ate in silence. I waited, watching him between bites, waiting for the perfect moment. My heart raced, but outwardly, I stayed calm. When the time felt right, I casually began the conversation I had been planning all day.
“So,” I started, my tone light and easy, “you won’t believe what happened to me today.”
He looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What happened?”

A man looks surprised while sitting at the dinner table | Source: Midjourney
“I was at the supermarket with Esther,” I said, setting my fork down and meeting his gaze. “And this woman just came up to me, grabbed my hand out of nowhere.”
Cameron froze, his fork hovering mid-air. “What?” he asked, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. “What did she want?”
I shrugged, pretending it was no big deal. “Oh, she started talking about these scars I have on my legs. It was weird — she knew about them, even though I’ve never met her in my life.”

A closeup of a person’s body with a scar | Source: Pexels
His eyes widened slightly. “That’s strange,” he said, his voice a little too tight. “What else did she say?”
“Oh, you know,” I continued, keeping my voice light, “she mentioned our wedding. Said some interesting things about it.”
Cameron’s grip tightened on his fork. “Really? What… what exactly did she say?”
I smiled sweetly, watching him squirm. “She said you’d be a super successful man and that we’d have a very happy marriage.”
That’s when he choked. Right on cue.

A stunned man sitting at the dinner table | Source: Midjourney
He coughed, gasping for breath as I sat back, watching with an almost detached amusement. His face turned pale, his eyes wide with panic as he tried to recover.
“Sweetie, are you okay?” I asked, doing my best to sound concerned, though inside, I was relishing every second of his discomfort.
“Y-yeah,” he sputtered, wiping his mouth. “Just… unexpected.”
I leaned in slightly, dropping the playful tone. “Unexpected? What’s unexpected, Cam? The part about us having a happy marriage? Or the fact that you’re such a coward, you couldn’t even break off the engagement yourself?”

An angry and upset woman at the dinner table | Source: Midjourney
His face went white as a sheet. “W-what? What are you talking about, Pen?”
I didn’t let him off the hook. “I ran into your actress today. The one you hired to freak me out and get rid of me!”
For a moment, Cameron just sat there, stunned, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He had no words: no explanation, no excuses. He was caught, and we both knew it.
“How… how did you—” he stammered, but I cut him off.

An extremely shocked man | Source: Midjourney
“Don’t you dare deny it! I know everything” I kept my voice low and steady. “You really thought I wouldn’t figure it out, huh?”
His hands trembled slightly as he set his fork down, staring at the table. “Pen, I—”
“Don’t,” I interrupted, standing up slowly. “Don’t even try to explain. I’m done being fooled by you.”
He finally looked up at me, his face a blend of guilt and desperation. “I didn’t know how to tell you, Pen. I thought it would be easier this way.”

A man looks guilty and desperate | Source: Midjourney
I laughed — actually laughed at the absurdity of it. “Easier? You thought hiring some stranger to spout nonsense about our wedding would be easier than just talking to me? We’ve been together for years, Cam! And this is how you handle it?”
He didn’t respond. He couldn’t.
I leaned in close, just enough to see the shame in his eyes. “I guess I’ll be the one to call off the wedding then,” I whispered.

A woman looking at someone at the dinner table | Source: Midjourney
With that, I turned and walked out of the apartment, leaving him sitting there, stunned and speechless. As I closed the door behind me, the weight that had been crushing me for weeks finally lifted. The future I had envisioned with Cameron crumbled, but in its place, a new path opened — one where I no longer had to pretend.
Game over, Cameron. Game over.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
Did you find this story exciting? Wait till you read this next one: I was just moments away from saying ‘I do’ when the church doors burst open, and my father shrieked that the WEDDING WAS OFF. What he said next shattered my heart in the blink of an eye.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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