UNKNOWN.

The city lights blurred in the night, casting a familiar glow over the streets as he moved through the crowd, his steps measured and deliberate. Los Angeles always felt alive, its pulse steady beneath the layers of noise, but tonight he felt removed from it all. He had grown accustomed to moving through the world unnoticed, a shadow among many. That skill had served him well over the years. Tonight, it was essential.

As he approached Hell's Angels, the familiar neon sign flickered, drawing people in with promises of excitement, entertainment, and indulgence. But that wasn't why he was here. The club might have been a playground for those seeking thrills, but for him, it was a hunting ground—a place where control was maintained and leverage was built.

He didn't come for the usual games or pleasures. He was here for one reason only: Mae.

He slipped inside the club through the back entrance, unseen by the security guards who busied themselves at the main doors. The usual hum of the crowd, the heavy thump of the bass, and the flashing lights created a haze of distraction. But he saw through it, felt the undercurrent that kept the place alive. The people in the crowd might have believed they were in control, but he knew better. He was the one pulling the strings, and tonight, he needed to ensure everything stayed exactly as it was.

The club was packed, bodies swaying in rhythm with the music, oblivious to anything beyond their immediate desires. As he moved through the crowd, he kept his focus sharp. This wasn't the first time he had come to watch her, but tonight, he sensed something had shifted. Mae was growing uneasy, her instincts sharper. She was searching for something—or someone—and that made her dangerous. Too dangerous to ignore.

He found a spot in the shadows, his eyes fixed on the stage as the lights dimmed and the music changed. The crowd's anticipation grew, the energy in the room thickening as they waited for the night's main attraction. He felt it too, a different kind of anticipation coursing through him. Not the excitement of the crowd, but a sense of foreboding, of knowing that the game he had been playing for so long was starting to change.

The curtains parted, and there she was—Mae, center stage, illuminated by the soft glow of the spotlight. She moved with confidence, every motion precise, her body commanding the room's attention. To the others, she was an enigma, a performer wrapped in mystery and allure. But he knew better. He could see past the performance, past the mask she wore for the crowd.

His eyes followed her every move, the same intensity he had felt the first time he had come to see her. She didn't know him, not really. She couldn't. And yet, he felt a connection, a pull that he had never anticipated when he first set foot in Hell's Angels.

She was flawless in her performance, just as she had always been, but there was something different tonight. A tension, a flicker of hesitation. When her gaze swept the room, it lingered in the shadows for just a moment too long, as if she could sense him. His chest tightened as their eyes locked for the briefest of moments. She didn't know who he was—she couldn't—but she knew enough to be wary.

He remained still, his face obscured by the shadows as the performance continued. Mae's movements were sharp, captivating, and the crowd roared with approval. But he could tell that her mind was elsewhere. She wasn't just performing for them—she was searching, trying to find answers to questions she wasn't ready to ask. Not yet.

When the performance reached its crescendo, Mae fell to her knees, her body tense with exhaustion and adrenaline. The crowd erupted in applause, but he remained silent, watching her with the same intensity that had brought him here in the first place.

As the lights dimmed and the curtains fell, he stepped back into the shadows, his mind racing. Mae was closer than he had anticipated. She was starting to notice things, to question the world around her. That couldn't happen. Not yet. He needed to keep her in the game, to maintain control until the time was right.

He turned to leave, his steps silent as he made his way toward the back exit. But something stopped him—a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye. Mae had slipped offstage and was making her way through the crowd, her face pale, her expression unreadable.

She was looking for him.

His pulse quickened, but he forced himself to remain calm. She couldn't find him, not here, not now. It wasn't time. He needed her to stay focused on her role, to keep performing without knowing the full extent of what was happening behind the scenes. If she found out too soon, everything would fall apart.

He melted into the shadows, slipping out of the club before she could spot him. Outside, the cool night air hit his face, grounding him. He pulled his phone from his pocket, typing out a quick message to one of his contacts inside the club.

"She's getting too close. Make sure she stays in line."

He hit send, pocketing the phone before blending into the crowd that flowed along the streets outside Hell's Angels. His mind churned with thoughts of Mae and how close she was getting to the truth. He needed to control the situation, to ensure that she stayed exactly where he wanted her—under his watch, but unaware of his true identity.

The night stretched on, and as he walked through the city, his thoughts remained on her. Mae was different from the others. She had always been different, which was why he had chosen her in the first place. But she was also unpredictable, and that made her dangerous.

For now, she was still a pawn in the game he was playing. But he knew that wouldn't last forever. Soon enough, she would start asking the wrong questions, seeking out answers that would lead her straight to him.

And when that happened, everything would change.

But until then, he would keep watching. He would keep pulling the strings from the shadows, ensuring that she remained exactly where he needed her—on the stage, performing, oblivious to the darkness that surrounded her.

Mae thought she was searching for answers, but the truth was, she didn't even know the right questions to ask. Not yet.

And when she did?

He would be there, waiting.