Mae stood in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection, her fingers clutching the edge of the sink. Her hair, now sleek and dark, fell over her shoulders, framing a face she barely recognized anymore. The transformation was almost complete. She had become someone else—someone powerful, someone untouchable.

Or at least that's what she told herself.

But deep inside, she knew the truth. The cracks were still there, just beneath the surface. No matter how much she tried to control her own fate, no matter how hard she fought against it, there was a force pulling her down, dragging her deeper into the shadows.

Him.

Charlie.

Her chest tightened at the thought of him. After everything that had happened, after all the lies, the manipulation, she should have felt nothing but hatred for him. And yet, every time he crossed her mind, a slow, insidious heat crept into her veins. She hated herself for it, for the way her pulse quickened at the mere memory of his voice, his touch.

Why?

Why couldn't she shake him?

She closed her eyes, exhaling shakily, trying to steady herself. The truth was, no matter how much she tried to convince herself that she was in control, Charlie was always one step ahead. He was always there, lurking in the shadows, watching her every move.

And tonight, she could feel him more than ever.

The air in the room was thick with tension, almost suffocating. Mae could feel it pressing down on her, making it hard to breathe. She knew something was coming. Something inevitable.

Her phone buzzed on the countertop, pulling her from her thoughts. Mae opened her eyes, her fingers trembling as she reached for the device. The message on the screen made her heart stop.

"Tonight. Don't make me wait."

The message was from an unknown number, but Mae didn't need to guess who it was. She knew. It was him. It was always him.

Charlie.

Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at the message. There was no mistaking the command in his words, the unspoken threat that lingered beneath the surface. She could feel the weight of his control, like invisible chains tightening around her wrists, pulling her toward him, whether she liked it or not.

Mae dropped the phone onto the counter, her hands shaking. She had been trying to lay low, to stay under the radar, but it was no use. Charlie always knew where to find her. He always knew how to draw her back in, no matter how far she tried to run.

Part of her wanted to ignore the message, to rebel, to prove that she could resist him. But the other part—the part she hated most—wanted to go. Wanted to see him again.

She hated that part of herself, the part that still craved his presence, even after everything he had done. She hated how easily she could fall back into the web he had spun around her. It was a dangerous game, one she had no control over. But every time she felt herself slipping, every time she thought she was free, Charlie was there to remind her that freedom was an illusion.

With trembling fingers, Mae reached for the mirror, pressing her palms against the cool glass. Her reflection stared back at her, dark eyes filled with a mixture of fear and something else—something she didn't want to name.

Desire.

The thought sent a jolt through her, and she pushed away from the sink, pacing the small bathroom. No. She couldn't let this happen again. She couldn't fall for it. Not after everything she had fought for, not after everything she had lost.

But the pull was too strong. It always had been.

Mae glanced at the clock. Midnight. The time loomed over her like a countdown, ticking away the moments until she had to make a choice. She had learned one thing in this twisted game with Charlie: there were no good options. Only consequences.

And she was running out of time.

The thought of defying him sent a shiver down her spine. She knew what he was capable of. She had seen it firsthand—the cold calculation, the way he could twist the truth, bend reality to his will. But what scared her most wasn't the threat of what he might do. It was how much she wanted to give in.

Her phone buzzed again, and this time, Mae couldn't ignore it.

"I'm waiting."

The words were simple, but the effect they had on her was anything but. She felt the familiar weight settle over her, the chains tightening. He was pulling her back in, slowly, methodically. And deep down, Mae knew she would go to him. She always did.

Her heart raced as she grabbed her jacket, her hands still shaking as she pulled it over her shoulders. She needed air. She needed to get out of this apartment, away from the suffocating walls and the endless thoughts that chased her in circles.

The city streets were quiet as Mae made her way toward the club. Hell's Angels. The neon sign flickered ominously in the distance, casting an eerie glow over the empty sidewalk. Mae had spent countless nights here, performing, pretending. But tonight, everything felt different.

Tonight, she wasn't pretending anymore.

As she approached the entrance, Mae could feel the tension building inside her, an almost palpable force pulling her closer. She didn't know what awaited her inside, but she knew one thing for certain: Charlie was there. Watching. Waiting.

She pushed open the door, the heavy bass of the music vibrating through her chest as she stepped into the dimly lit club. The air was thick with smoke and the scent of alcohol, but none of it registered. Mae's mind was solely focused on one thing: finding him.

Her eyes scanned the crowd, searching for that familiar figure, that shadow that always seemed to be lurking just out of sight. But as the minutes ticked by, the crowd only grew thicker, the faces blurring together in a haze of lights and sound.

He wasn't here. Not yet.

Mae's heart raced as she made her way to the back, where the darker, more secluded corners of the club lay hidden. She slipped past the dancers, past the patrons, her mind buzzing with the anticipation of what was to come.

Finally, she found him.

Charlie stood in the far corner, his presence unmistakable. He was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, watching her with that same dark intensity that had haunted her for weeks. For months. The weight of his gaze settled over her, pulling her in, and Mae felt herself falter for just a moment.

But then, he smiled.

It was a small smile, almost imperceptible, but it was enough to send a thrill through her. The kind of thrill that made her pulse race, her mind blur with a thousand conflicting emotions.

"Mae," he said softly, his voice low and smooth, cutting through the noise of the club. "You came."

She swallowed hard, trying to steady herself, but the pull was too strong. His voice, his presence—it consumed her, wrapped around her like a cloak of darkness.

"I didn't have a choice," Mae whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding music. "You knew I'd come."

Charlie's smile widened, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. "Of course I did."

He pushed away from the wall, taking a slow step toward her, closing the distance between them. Mae's heart raced as he drew nearer, her body betraying her once again with the way it responded to him.

"I told you, Mae," he murmured, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down her spine. "There's no escaping me."

Her breath hitched as he reached out, his fingers brushing against her arm, sending a jolt of electricity through her skin. She hated how easily he could do this to her, how easily he could make her forget everything but the way he made her feel.

"You think you still have control?" Charlie's voice was dark, almost teasing. "You think you can fight me?"

Mae's chest tightened as his hand slid up her arm, his touch burning through her like fire. She wanted to scream, to push him away, but instead, she stood there, trembling beneath the weight of his presence.

"I—" she started, but the words died on her lips as Charlie stepped closer, his breath warm against her ear.

"Don't lie to me, Mae," he whispered, his voice low and dangerous. "You want this. You've always wanted this."

Mae's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, of fear, of anger, of something darker—something she didn't want to admit to herself. He was right. No matter how hard she fought, no matter how much she hated him, there was a part of her that wanted him. That craved the power he held over her.

And that terrified her more than anything.

Charlie's hand slid to her waist, pulling her closer, and Mae felt her resolve crumbling beneath his touch. The burn of tension that had simmered between them for so long was finally coming to a head, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

"You're mine," Charlie whispered, his lips brushing against her ear. "And you always will be."

Mae closed her eyes, her heart pounding in her chest as she felt herself giving in, slipping deeper into the darkness that surrounded them both.

Because no matter how hard she fought, no matter how much she tried to resist, Charlie was right.

She belonged to him.

Mae's heart raced as she stood frozen in place, her body pressed up against Charlie's. His hands were possessive, his touch firm but calculated, as if he knew just how much pressure to apply to make her knees weak, to make her forget the terror that should be coursing through her veins. She wanted to pull away, to scream, but the words wouldn't come. The tension between them, the dark pull that had been building for so long, was too strong.

It terrified her, this connection she couldn't sever, this power he held over her. But even more terrifying was the part of her that didn't want to sever it, the part that leaned into him, that craved the darkness he brought with him.

"I knew you'd come back to me," Charlie whispered, his voice smooth like velvet but cold beneath the surface. His breath brushed against her neck, sending shivers down her spine. "You always come back."

Mae tried to form a response, but her throat was tight, the words trapped inside her. She hated him, hated everything he stood for, but she couldn't deny the way her pulse quickened when he was near. It was like standing on the edge of a cliff, the ground crumbling beneath her feet, knowing she was about to fall but unable to stop it.

Charlie's hand moved to her chin, tilting her face up so their eyes met. His gaze was dark, intense, as if he could see straight through her. She felt exposed under his stare, vulnerable in a way she hadn't felt in a long time. He had always known how to disarm her, how to strip away the defenses she tried so hard to build.

"You've been fighting me," he murmured, his lips dangerously close to hers. "But we both know it's useless."

Mae's breath hitched, her body trembling under the weight of his words. She hated how right he was, how easily he could get under her skin. But what she hated even more was the way her body responded to him, the way her heart raced in anticipation, as if it had been waiting for this moment all along.

"I'm not yours," she whispered, her voice shaky and unconvincing.

Charlie's smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. It was a predator's smile, the kind that sent a thrill of fear through her.

"Aren't you?" he asked, his tone mocking, as if he knew something she didn't. His thumb brushed against her lower lip, a small, possessive gesture that made her heart stutter. "You can tell yourself that all you want, Mae, but we both know the truth. You've been mine since the beginning."

Mae swallowed hard, her throat tight as she tried to process his words. She wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, but deep down, she knew he wasn't. Charlie had always been in control, even when she thought she was fighting him. He had woven his way into every part of her life, every part of her mind, until there was no escape. And now, standing this close to him, she felt the weight of that control more than ever.

"I don't belong to you," Mae tried again, her voice steadier this time, though the defiance in her words felt fragile.

Charlie's eyes darkened, his grip on her chin tightening ever so slightly. "No?" he asked, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "Then why are you still here?"

Mae's breath caught in her throat as his words sank in. He was right. She was still here. She had come to him willingly, knowing full well what awaited her. And now, standing in his arms, she couldn't bring herself to leave. The truth was, she didn't know if she even wanted to leave.

The thought sent a chill through her, but there was something else too. Something she couldn't quite name, something that felt dark and dangerous but impossible to ignore. A pull that went beyond fear, beyond hate. It was like a fire burning inside her, one she couldn't extinguish no matter how hard she tried.

Charlie leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above hers. His breath was warm against her skin, his presence overwhelming, suffocating. But Mae couldn't pull away. She was trapped, caught in the web he had spun around her, and part of her—a terrifying part—didn't want to escape.

"You can keep telling yourself you hate me," Charlie whispered, his voice soft but dripping with control. "But we both know the truth. You feel it too, don't you?"

Mae's chest tightened as his words hit her like a physical blow. She wanted to scream, to push him away, but instead, her body betrayed her. Her lips parted, a small, shaky breath escaping her as she felt the undeniable pull between them. She hated him. She hated him with every fiber of her being. But she couldn't deny the way her body reacted to him, the way her mind seemed to cloud over in his presence.

It was wrong. So wrong.

But it felt inevitable.

Charlie's hand slid from her chin to her waist, pulling her closer until their bodies were pressed together. Mae's heart raced in her chest, a mixture of fear and something darker, something she didn't want to acknowledge.

"I don't want this," Mae whispered, her voice trembling, but even as the words left her lips, they felt hollow. She wasn't sure who she was trying to convince—him or herself.

Charlie's smile turned predatory, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Yes, you do," he said softly, his lips brushing against her ear. "You've wanted this from the beginning."

Mae's body shuddered as his breath ghosted over her skin, sending a jolt of electricity through her. She clenched her fists, trying to hold on to the last shred of resistance she had, but it was slipping away, melting under the heat of his touch.

"I hate you," Mae whispered, her voice barely audible, but it was all she could cling to.

Charlie's hand tightened on her waist, pulling her even closer, his lips hovering just above hers. "I know," he murmured, his voice dark and smooth. "But hate and desire—two sides of the same coin, aren't they?"

Mae's breath hitched, her chest tight with conflicting emotions. She should push him away. She should run. But instead, she stood frozen, trembling in his arms, her body betraying her every thought. The tension between them was thick, suffocating, and Mae could feel herself being pulled deeper into the darkness.

Charlie's lips finally brushed against hers, a soft, almost teasing touch that sent a spark of heat coursing through her veins. Mae's heart pounded in her chest, her body trembling with a mixture of fear and something else—something she couldn't control. Her mind screamed at her to stop, to pull away, but her body refused to listen.

It was as if all the fight had drained out of her, leaving her vulnerable and exposed, and Charlie took full advantage of that vulnerability. His lips pressed more firmly against hers, his hand sliding up to the back of her neck, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss. Mae's breath hitched as she felt herself responding, her body arching into him despite the voice in her head screaming for her to stop.

It was wrong. It was so, so wrong.

But it was everything she had been fighting against for so long.

Charlie's other hand slid down her back, his touch possessive, as if he were claiming her, marking her as his. And Mae—Mae couldn't resist. Not anymore. The tension that had been building between them for months finally snapped, and she found herself kissing him back, her body melting into his as the last of her defenses crumbled.

She hated him. She hated everything he had done, everything he stood for.

But in this moment, in this dark, twisted moment, she couldn't deny the fire that burned between them.

And it terrified her.