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 compliments.

“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 work 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 she 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 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.