EPISODE: 2

• Every boyfriend she stole, every look she gave me after. It was all a silent reminder that she could have whatever I had whenever she wanted. She wasn’t just stealing guys. She was stealing control. She was rewriting my life piece by piece, and no one believed me. But I never forgot the way she smirked when no one else was looking. And one day, I promised myself she would smirk at the wrong person.
• I was 28 when I met Jame. He wasn’t like the others. He was quiet, thoughtful, steady. He listened when I spoke, really listened. He remembered things I said weeks before. He didn’t flirt with everyone, didn’t play games. He was the first man who made me feel safe, like maybe I could finally stop looking over my shoulder.
• James was an architect, not flashy, not loud. He hated parties and rarely used social media. That’s what made me feel sure. He didn’t even glance at Lily when I introduced them. Polite, yes, but uninterested. He wasn’t her type. and I convinced myself I was safe this time. I let myself relax around him. For the first time in years, I actually told my sister about I thought it was time to stop being paranoid.
• We dated for almost a year. I started imagining a future. I had never done that before. We talked about moving in together. He said he wanted to meet my parents properly. Everything seemed right. Lily didn’t even ask about him much, and I thought that meant she was finally out of this habit. Maybe she’d changed.
• Maybe we were actually growing up. Then one Friday evening, James didn’t answer my call. I figured he was just busy, but he didn’t call the next day either or the next. His number went straight to voicemail. I messaged him. No response. I checked his apartment, but it was empty. I started to panic. Had something happened.
• Was he okay? On Monday, I opened Facebook and there it was. A photo of Lily and James standing on a balcony, the city lights behind them, her hand resting on his chest. She was smiling, holding up her left hand. A diamond ring glittered on her finger. The caption read, “He asked.” I said, “Yes.” I stared at it for a long time.
• I kept refreshing the page, thinking maybe it was some kind of joke. My brain refused to understand. There had been no sign, no warning. He had ghosted me and proposed to her in the same week. They didn’t message me, didn’t call, not even a fake excuse. Just posted the photo like I didn’t exist.
• Something inside me cracked. But I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream or beg or break down. I didn’t text them. I didn’t block them. I sat very still for a long time. And then I began to think, really think. For the first time, I didn’t try to make sense of it. I didn’t wonder what I did wrong or how it happened. I already knew.
• Lily saw something I loved and she took it again. But this time, it wasn’t just another boyfriend. It was something real. This was her final move, and it would be mine, too. She had no idea that the game she loved so much was finally going to turn on her. And this time, I wasn’t playing defense. After James and Lily’s engagement photo went viral, I didn’t speak to either of I didn’t show up at family dinners.
• I didn’t answer texts. I didn’t cry in front of anyone. I let them believe I had disappeared into my own humiliation, that I had accepted defeat once again. But quietly in the background, I started collecting everything I could. I wasn’t mourning anymore. I was planning for 6 months. I watched her. I watched both of them. James had moved into Lily’s condo, but it was clear from the start he wasn’t exactly happy.
• His smile and the photos looked thinner than before. She posted about their adventures constantly. Brunches, rooftop parties, art opening. She wanted the world to know he was hers now, but underneath it all, I could tell she was getting bored. Lily didn’t want stability. She craved chaos. She wanted danger, attention, something that kept her adrenaline pumping.
• So, I made a list of the things Lily couldn’t resist. Money, mystery, men who were a little broken, but just enough to make her feel like she could fix them. She liked a challenge. someone who looked like a movie villain but talked like a poet. I knew exactly what kind of man to feed her. I didn’t have to look far.
• Matteo came up during a casual conversation at work. My co-worker mentioned her cousin had just moved back into town after a rough year and was looking for a fresh start. When I asked what she meant, she gave a vague answer about a bad breakup, a lost job, and some stuff he doesn’t talk about.
• That was all I needed to hear. When I met Matteo, I knew instantly he was perfect. He had the look, tall, lean, quiet, but intense. He had those slow blinks and sideways smiles that made you feel like he was always half a step ahead. He didn’t talk much about himself, and when he did, he left out just enough to make you curious.
• There was something dark about him, but not obvious. It was in the way he stared a little too long, the way his hands stayed completely still when he spoke. We started talking casually. I made up a story about a friend who had been cheated on by her sister, which wasn’t exactly a lie. He listened without judgment. He didn’t ask many questions, but he was interested.
• I told him I needed help. Someone who could make her fall. Just like she made me fall over and over. He didn’t flinch. He just said, “What’s the plan?” That was all I needed. I told him everything. What she liked, how she moved, where she went after work, which bars she frequented, what kind of compliments worked on.

EPISODE: 3

• We mapped her patterns like a scientist tracking prey. I didn’t want her hurt physically. I wanted her undone emotionally, mentally. I wanted her to taste the confusion and betrayal she fed me for years. So, we crafted a version of Matteo that would be irresistible to her. Wealthy but modest, kind but hard to read.
• A man who made her feel seen and unseen at the same time. A man who would let her think she was in control. And then we set the trap. Not fast, not loud, just enough for her to notice him. Just enough for her to want what she thought she couldn’t have. And just like that, the game began. It started with a photo. Just one.
• Me and Matteo sitting on a bench outside a coffee shop, laughing at nothing in particular. His hand was on my knee. My hair was falling over my shoulder. It looked candid, casual, real. I made sure Lily saw it. The next day, she liked the post. No comment, no message, but I knew she’d zoomed in. I could almost hear her thinking, “Who’s that?” Over the next few weeks, I posted more.
• One of him holding my phone with his head bent toward me, another of two coffee cups, and a single key on a table. Nothing too obvious, just enough to make her curious, just enough to make her wonder why I looked so calm, so content. Then came the accidental run-ins. I made sure Matteo and I were at the wine bar she loved on Thursday nights.
• She walked in with James, but her eyes locked on Matteo within seconds. He didn’t even look her way. That was part of it. He laughed with me, leaned in close, then looked right past her like she wasn’t worth a second glance. That’s what hooked her. The next day, she texted me for the first time in weeks. Who’s the guy in your pictures? He looks interesting, I replied simply.
• Just someone I’m getting to know. Nothing else. I knew silence would drive her crazy. Two days later, Matteo got his first message. Hey, I think we met at that bar on Thursday. I’m Lily, Opie’s sister. He waited before replying. I told him to play it cool, charming, but detached. He wrote back, “Right, I remember you.
• You’re the one who kept looking at me. That was all it took. She started messaging him more often. Small talk at first, then compliment. You seem so different from the guys she usually dates. Or, you’re really easy to talk to.” Matteo fed her just enough attention to keep her hooked, but never gave her control.
• He’d go hours without replying, then send something cryptic or flattering. She was hooked. She started lying to James, told him she had worked drinks, girls nights, spa appointments. I knew every move she made because Matteo told me everything. I saw the screenshots, read the messages. I can’t stop thinking about you, she wrote.
• I feel like you get me in a way no one else does. It made my stomach twist. Not out of jealousy, out of satisfaction. She thought she was winning again. She thought she was being clever, sneaky, powerful. But every message, every plan, every touch she imagined was already written into a script we’d designed.
• She didn’t realize she was walking through a maze where I controlled every wall, every turn, every dead end. She thought she was the predator, but this time she was the bait. Once Lily was hooked, Matteo started to reel her in slow and steady. He never rushed her. He didn’t demand anything.
• That was the brilliance of it. He let her think it was her idea the entire time. She was the one texting first. She was the one setting up late night meetups. She was the one lying to James. At first, she kept it casual. She still posted pictures with James. Smiling selfies, matching coffee mugs, weekend road trips.
• But the captions started to get shorter. The smiles didn’t reach her eyes. She was already half gone, chasing the thrill Matteo offered her in secret. Matteo began telling her things she craved to hear. You’re different from other women. You’re too smart for the life you’re living. You deserve more than a man who only talks about blueprints and mortgage payments. And she ate it up.
• He made her feel dangerous, exciting, like she was something rare, someone worth leaving a whole life behind. Meanwhile, I played my part, too. I started calling her again, checking in. Hey, I saw your photos with James. Everything good between you two. I kept my voice light, my tone concerned, like I was trying to be supportive.
• I gave her just enough room to lie, to fidget, to start doubting herself. Sometimes she’d snap, saying I was acting weird or too interested. Sometimes she’d just brush me off like she had more important things to do. I always let her go gently. I didn’t press. That’s what made it work. Matteo continued the isolation. He planted little seeds in her mind.
• Told her James didn’t appreciate her, that their life was too ordinary, that she needed someone who saw the fire in her. He started ignoring her texts for a few hours, then sending voice notes late at night, whispering things like, “I can’t stop thinking about you.” and “Tell me you feel it, too.” Lily couldn’t resist.
• She loved being the center of someone’s obsession. Within weeks, she was spiraling. She started coming home late, snapping at James. She accused him of being controlling when he asked where she’d been. The irony was rich. Then one night, she showed up at my door crying. She said she needed to crash just for a night.
• James and her had a fight and she couldn’t stand being in that apartment anymore. I let her in, gave her tea, asked nothing. That same night, she told me she was thinking of moving in with Matteo. I said nothing for a moment. Then I smiled and said, “You sure that’s a good idea?” She rolled her eyes.
• “Why do you always act like I don’t know what I’m doing?” “I’m just asking,” I said, shrugging. “You’ve only known him a little while.” She stood up, annoyed. “You never liked when people liked me. Admit it. You’ve always hated when I get attention.” I just nodded slowly. Maybe she moved in with Matteo the next week.
• That was when everything that was when everything began to unravel. Lily moved in with Matteo fast, like she was chasing something just out of reach. At first, she acted proud, smug even. She dropped little hints around the family. Matteo’s just so different from anyone I’ve ever been with, she’d say. He really understands me.
• She made sure everyone knew she had traded up. James was gone, barely mentioned. Matteo had taken over every corner of her life. But it didn’t take long before the cracks started showing. First, she stopped answering group texts. Then she started cancelling plans, dinners, birthdays, even casual coffee catch-ups.
• She always had an excuse. Matteo’s not feeling well. Or I promised him we’d have a night in. Her voice changed too. Quieter, more cautious. She seemed jumpy, like she was always choosing her words carefully. I watched it all unfold without ever saying much. Just a few questions here and there. Everything okay? You’ve been kind of MIA lately? She’d brush it off, laugh too loud, act like nothing was wrong, but I saw it in her eyes.