The door clicked shut, leaving Mae standing in the silence of her dressing room. The air felt thick, charged with the aftermath of what had just happened. Her skin was still tingling from Charlie's touch, the heat of his lips lingering on hers like an unshakable mark. She took a deep breath, trying to steady the racing pulse that refused to calm, but her chest felt tight, her thoughts a swirling mess of confusion, anger, and something darker—something that scared her.

How had this happened?

Mae turned back toward the mirror, her reflection staring back at her from beneath the dim glow of the vanity lights. Her face was flushed, her hair slightly tousled from the performance, and her black costume clung to her damp skin. She looked like a woman in control—a performer who had just commanded the stage. But Mae felt anything but in control.

Her mind raced as she thought about Charlie—about the way he had been watching her. The intensity of his gaze had burned through her like a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. She was falling for him—no, falling into him—and it terrified her. Every rational part of her screamed to get away, to sever the connection before it was too late, but another part, the part that had been drawn to him since the beginning, couldn't resist.

Mae closed her eyes, her hand gripping the edge of the vanity as she tried to steady her breath. The mirror in front of her reflected more than just her appearance—it reflected the choices she had made, the path she had taken that had led her here. She had once been strong, determined to fight whatever dark pull Charlie had over her. But now, standing alone in the dressing room, she wasn't sure if she had the strength to keep fighting.

The room was still. Unnaturally still. Normally, she could hear the chatter of the other dancers in the halls or the distant beat of music bleeding through the walls. But tonight, it felt like the world had gone silent, like the air itself was holding its breath.

Mae glanced at the empty chair beside her vanity, her chest tightening. Layla hadn't shown up to the club tonight. No one had said anything directly, but there had been whispers earlier—rumors that she had been asking questions, digging too deep. Mae had heard fragments of conversations between the other dancers, but when she had tried to get answers, they had all looked away, their faces tight with fear.

Layla was gone. And deep down, Mae knew why.

She got too close.

The realization hit her like a punch to the gut, knocking the breath from her lungs. Mae had been walking a dangerous line, but she hadn't fully understood just how far the shadows reached. Layla had crossed a line, and now she had officially disappeared. Just like Frank. Just like the others who had vanished without a trace.

Mae's hand trembled as she ran it through her hair, her thoughts spiraling. She couldn't ignore it any longer. Layla had been caught in the web, just like she was, but instead of playing it safe, Layla had tried to fight back. And now, she was gone.

Her phone buzzed on the vanity, the sharp sound breaking the oppressive silence in the room. Mae stared at it for a moment, her pulse quickening as she reached for the phone with trembling hands. She already knew who it was. Her stomach twisted as she unlocked the screen.

Tomorrow. Midnight. You'll be ready.

There was no signature, no name, but it didn't matter. She didn't need to see his name to know it was Charlie. His control over her extended far beyond the club now. It had seeped into every corner of her life, into her thoughts, her decisions. He was always there, watching, pulling the strings.

Mae stared at the message, her fingers tightening around the phone. She wanted to scream, to throw the phone across the room, to break free of whatever hold he had over her. But she couldn't. No matter how much she wanted to deny it, the truth was staring her in the face.

She was trapped. And there was no escape.

With shaky hands, Mae slipped her phone into her bag and leaned back against the vanity, her mind racing. She couldn't keep this up much longer. The push and pull with Charlie, the constant feeling of being watched, controlled—it was suffocating. And yet, every time she thought about walking away, something stopped her.

Him.

Charlie was dangerous, manipulative, and controlling, but he was also magnetic, pulling her in with a force she couldn't resist. There was something dark and twisted between them, something that had started long before she had even realized it. Mae didn't want to admit it, but she was caught in his web, and the more she struggled, the tighter it became.

She pushed herself off the chair and began gathering her things, trying to shake off the overwhelming weight of it all. She needed space, needed time to think. Maybe a walk would clear her head, give her the clarity she so desperately needed. But as she reached for her bag, her phone buzzed again.

Another message.

Mae's heart pounded in her chest as she unlocked her phone, the tension mounting. It was from the same unknown number.

Don't forget who you belong to.

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, her vision blurred. The words felt like a noose tightening around her neck. Charlie had made it clear—there was no escape. No matter how much she tried to fight it, she was his. She had been since the moment she stepped into his world.

But the question that haunted her the most wasn't whether she could escape.

It was whether she wanted to.

With a deep breath, Mae grabbed her bag and headed for the door. The club was quieter now, the energy from earlier dissipating into the night air. She stepped outside, the cool breeze hitting her skin, but it did little to calm the storm raging inside her.

As she walked through the city streets, her thoughts kept returning to Charlie. His touch, his words, the way he had claimed her so effortlessly. She hated him for it, but she couldn't deny the fire he had ignited inside her. It was a dangerous, all-consuming flame, one that threatened to burn her alive if she wasn't careful.

Mae didn't know how much longer she could keep fighting. Every time she thought she had found her footing, Charlie was there to pull her back under, deeper into the darkness. And the worst part was, she wasn't sure she wanted to resist anymore.

The truth was, Mae had never felt more alive than when she was with him. Even in the fear, the uncertainty, there was a thrill, a rush of adrenaline that made her feel like she was on the edge of something far greater than herself.

But that edge was sharp, and if she wasn't careful, it would cut her to pieces.

As Mae reached the end of the street, she stopped, staring out at the city lights in the distance. The world seemed so vast, so full of possibilities, but she was trapped in a cage of her own making. And the key to that cage was in Charlie's hands.

With a deep breath, she turned and began walking back to the club.

Back to him.

Because no matter how much she tried to run, she knew there was only one place she could go.

Straight into the flames.

The city's lights blurred as Mae made her way back to the club. The cool night air did nothing to settle the storm within her, but she kept walking, one foot in front of the other, as if pulled by an invisible string. She knew where she was going, but the part of her that still had fight left screamed for her to turn back. Yet, even as those thoughts crossed her mind, her body was already moving forward.

The streets felt different now. The usual noise of cars and distant conversations became a dull hum, drowned out by the pounding of her heart. She clutched her bag tightly against her side, fingers gripping the leather until her knuckles turned white. Layla's absence lingered in her thoughts, a sharp reminder of how quickly someone could be erased if they asked the wrong questions.

Mae had promised herself she wouldn't dig too deep, that she wouldn't fall into the same trap as Layla. But Charlie had a way of pulling her deeper into his world, making it impossible to resist. Every time she thought she had found solid ground, he would appear, shattering whatever illusions of control she had built. It terrified her how easily he could slip into her mind, how effortlessly he could control her.

Don't forget who you belong to.

The words from his text echoed in her mind as she approached the entrance of the club. It was empty now, the crowd having dispersed hours ago. The neon sign flickered above her, casting an eerie red glow over the door. She hesitated, her hand hovering over the handle, her heart racing as she considered what she was walking back into.

With a deep breath, Mae pushed the door open and stepped inside. The familiar scent of alcohol and sweat hit her immediately, a reminder of the nights she had spent performing under the watchful eyes of strangers. But tonight, there was no crowd, no stage lights. Just the empty, darkened club and the weight of Charlie's presence, even when he wasn't physically there.

She moved through the empty space, her footsteps echoing against the polished floor. The dressing room loomed ahead, but Mae found herself slowing down, unsure if she wanted to go back inside. The thought of facing herself in the mirror again, of confronting the choices she had made, made her chest tighten.

Instead, Mae turned and walked toward the back of the club, to the one place she felt she could catch her breath—Charlie's private office.

She had been there before. Not often, but enough to know that it was a place he guarded fiercely. It wasn't somewhere she should go without his permission, but tonight, she needed answers. She needed to understand what was happening, what was going to happen if she didn't start playing by his rules.

The hallway leading to his office was darker than the rest of the club, the lights dimming as she ventured deeper into the back. Her heart raced with each step, the sound of her own breathing loud in her ears. When she reached the heavy wooden door, she hesitated. The rational part of her screamed to turn back, to leave before she crossed another line she couldn't uncross.

But Mae was past the point of listening to reason.

With a trembling hand, she turned the knob and pushed the door open, stepping inside the dimly lit office. The scent of expensive leather and whiskey hit her immediately, a stark contrast to the chaos outside the walls. Everything about this room was meticulously curated—just like Charlie.

The desk at the center of the room was pristine, the polished wood gleaming under the soft light of the desk lamp. Papers were neatly stacked, a glass of half-finished whiskey perched on the edge, as if Charlie had just stepped out and would return at any moment. Mae felt like an intruder, but she couldn't stop herself from walking deeper into the room, her eyes scanning the space for anything that might give her insight into the man who controlled her life.

As she moved closer to the desk, her fingers grazed the surface, her mind racing with questions. Why her? Why had Charlie chosen her to be the centerpiece of his world? It couldn't just be about her performances, her dancing. There had to be something more, something darker that she had yet to uncover.

Her hand landed on a stack of papers, and she hesitated. She knew she shouldn't. She knew crossing this line would only pull her further into the web, but the curiosity was too strong. Mae's fingers flipped through the papers, her breath catching when she saw her own name, printed clearly on a contract she had never seen before.

Her chest tightened as she scanned the document, her heart pounding in her ears as the words blurred in front of her. The contract was dated months ago—long before she had ever signed on at the club. And it wasn't just a performance contract. It was something much more binding, something that tied her to Charlie in ways she hadn't even realized.

I own you.

The realization hit her like a punch to the gut, knocking the breath from her lungs. She stumbled back, her mind spinning as she tried to process what she had just uncovered. This wasn't just about the club. This wasn't just about her performances. Charlie had planned this from the beginning. He had orchestrated every step of her downfall, pulling the strings from the shadows, making sure she had no choice but to fall into his grasp.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and Mae jumped, her heart racing as she pulled it out with shaking hands. Another message from the same unknown number.

You shouldn't have gone there.

Her breath hitched, and she spun around, eyes darting to the corners of the room as if expecting him to appear from the shadows. The message was clear—he knew she was here. He had always known. Every step she took, every choice she made, had been under his control.

Her mind raced with panic, her pulse quickening as she backed toward the door. She needed to get out. She needed to leave before it was too late. But as she reached for the handle, the door swung open, and Mae froze.

Charlie stood in the doorway, his dark eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.

"You've been busy," he said, his voice calm, but there was an undercurrent of danger in his tone.

Mae's heart pounded in her chest, her throat tight with fear as she backed away from the desk. "Charlie, I—"

"You don't need to explain," he cut her off, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. "I know exactly what you're doing."

His words sent a chill through her, and Mae's mind raced with a million questions. How long had he been watching? How deep did his control go? She had thought she could outsmart him, that she could find a way to break free, but now she realized just how wrong she had been.

"You think you can escape this?" Charlie's voice was low, his eyes burning into hers as he moved closer. "You think you can outplay me?"

Mae's breath hitched as he stepped into her space, the heat of his body overwhelming her senses. She wanted to scream, to fight back, but the pull between them was too strong. She was caught in his web, and there was no way out.

"You belong to me, Mae," Charlie whispered, his hand brushing against her cheek, sending a jolt of electricity through her. "And you always will."

Mae's chest tightened as his words sank in, the weight of them suffocating her. She had thought she could resist him, that she could find a way to break free. But now, standing in front of him, feeling the heat of his touch, she realized the truth.

She had been his from the very beginning.

And she always would be.