The club was alive with energy, the dim lights casting shadows that flickered against the walls, creating an atmosphere that felt both seductive and dangerous. The bass of the music thrummed through the air, vibrating in Mae's chest as she prepared backstage, her heart racing in time with the beat. Tonight's performance would be different. She could feel it in the air, a shift that made her skin prickle and her nerves hum with anticipation.

Everything had changed between her and Charlie. His presence loomed over her constantly now, an undeniable force that tugged at her every thought, every decision. The way he had touched her, spoken to her, claimed her—it was impossible to forget. And yet, here she was, about to step onto the stage again, knowing he was watching.

Waiting.

Mae stood in front of the mirror in the dressing room, adjusting the straps of her black silk costume, her fingers trembling as she stared at her reflection. Her hair fell in dark waves around her shoulders, framing a face that was no longer unfamiliar. She had become this person, this version of herself that danced between danger and desire.

The reflection looking back at her was confident, alluring, powerful—but inside, Mae felt anything but. She was still reeling from the weight of what had transpired with Charlie. The kiss, the tension, the unspoken claim he had over her—it was all too much, too overwhelming. Yet, a part of her craved it. Craved the fire he lit inside her, the way he made her feel alive, even as she was consumed by him.

She inhaled deeply, trying to steady herself. Tonight, she would perform like she never had before. She needed to prove to herself that she still had control, that she wasn't completely lost in the web Charlie had spun around her.

But as she adjusted her costume, tightening the silk around her waist, Mae couldn't shake the feeling that she was performing for him now. That every movement, every glance, was meant to pull him further into her orbit, just as he had done to her. She hated how easily he could command her thoughts, how even the idea of him watching her perform sent a thrill through her veins.

I'm not his, she reminded herself, though the conviction in her thoughts felt fragile.

There was a knock at the door, and Mae turned to see one of the club's staff poking their head in. "You're up next," they said, their tone neutral, but there was a flicker of something in their eyes—a recognition of her as more than just another performer.

Mae nodded, her throat tight. She gathered her nerves, adjusting the straps of her outfit one last time before stepping out of the dressing room and into the dimly lit hallway. The music grew louder as she approached the stage, her pulse quickening with every step. She could already feel the eyes of the crowd on her, though the performance hadn't even begun.

As she reached the edge of the stage, the lights dimmed, casting the room into near darkness. The spotlight would be on her soon enough, but for now, the shadows were her sanctuary, offering a moment of reprieve before she stepped into the flames.

The music shifted, the deep bass turning into a slow, pulsing beat that throbbed through the air. It was a rhythm she knew well, one that called for sensuality, for power. Mae took a deep breath, her fingers grazing the velvet curtain as she waited for the cue.

Then, the lights snapped on, and the spotlight found her.

For a moment, the crowd disappeared, the room faded, and there was only the stage and the heat of the lights on her skin. Mae moved forward, her body flowing with the rhythm of the music, every step purposeful, every movement deliberate. Her hands brushed against the pole as she gripped it, her legs wrapping around it with practiced ease.

The performance wasn't just for the crowd tonight—it was for him. She knew Charlie was somewhere out there, hidden in the shadows, watching her with those dark, predatory eyes. The thought both terrified and excited her, sending a rush of adrenaline through her veins. She would show him that she wasn't his to control, that she could still command the stage, command herself.

But even as she moved, her body arching and swaying with the music, she could feel his presence wrapping around her like a noose. Every time she lifted herself into a spin, every time her body twisted gracefully, she imagined his gaze burning into her, consuming her. It was maddening, the way he got under her skin, the way his control extended far beyond their interactions. It was like he was always there, lurking in the darkest corners of her mind, pushing her closer to the edge.

Mae's breath came in short bursts as she pulled herself into an intricate spin, her body moving effortlessly around the pole. The crowd cheered, the sound almost drowned out by the pounding of her heart, but she barely registered it. Her mind was somewhere else—on the dark figure she knew was watching her every move.

The lights shifted again, casting a soft red glow over the stage, turning the atmosphere into something even more intimate, more dangerous. Mae's body moved with the beat, her hands gripping the pole as she lifted herself up, her legs wrapping around it in a slow, sensual motion. She could feel the eyes of the audience on her, could hear their murmurs of appreciation, but it was all background noise.

All she could think about was him.

As the song reached its crescendo, Mae arched her back, letting her body curve gracefully as she descended the pole. The movement was fluid, controlled, and yet every muscle in her body was tense, every nerve on fire. Her heart raced as she landed softly on the stage, her hands trailing along the floor as she pulled herself into a final, powerful pose.

The crowd erupted into applause, but Mae's mind was far from the noise around her. Her chest heaved with exertion, her skin slick with sweat, and yet all she could feel was the dark presence that had wrapped around her, suffocating her.

She stood slowly, her gaze sweeping the room, searching for him in the shadows. Her breath caught when she found him.

Charlie stood at the back of the club, his figure barely visible in the dim light, but there was no mistaking the way his eyes gleamed with that dark intensity she had come to fear—and crave. His expression was unreadable, but the weight of his gaze settled over her like a shroud, pulling her deeper into the web he had spun around her.

Mae's heart pounded in her chest as she held his gaze, her body still trembling from the performance. She had come here tonight to prove something—to herself, to him. But now, standing in the aftermath of her performance, all she could feel was the undeniable pull between them.

The flames had already consumed her.

And she wasn't sure she wanted to escape anymore.

Mae's pulse pounded in her ears, drowning out the roaring applause as she locked eyes with Charlie from across the club. The stage lights dimmed around her, their heat fading as her performance ended, but her body still burned with the intensity of it all—the strain of her movements, the adrenaline coursing through her veins, and the undeniable awareness of him watching her every step.

She had danced for the crowd, but each movement, each slow, sensual twist of her body, had been for him. There was no denying it now. No matter how much she wanted to convince herself otherwise, no matter how many times she whispered that she wasn't his, the truth was undeniable. She was his—whether she liked it or not.

The room felt too small, too hot, as she stood there under the fading lights, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. The roar of the crowd was a distant hum, drowned out by the storm inside her. She hadn't performed for their approval, for their applause. She had performed to prove something, to push back against the hold he had over her. But now, as she stood in the aftermath, she realized she had only fallen deeper into his grasp.

Charlie's figure remained shrouded in the shadows at the back of the club, his presence overwhelming even from a distance. He was still, watching her with a gaze that felt like it could strip her bare, lay her soul open for him to see. It terrified her how much power he had over her—how easily he could unravel her with just a look.

For a moment, Mae felt frozen on the stage, the heat from the performance dissipating as the air cooled, but her body was still humming, every nerve alight. The connection between them was electric, crackling in the air like a live wire. Her skin tingled where his eyes traced over her, as though he were touching her from across the room.

The crowd began to disperse, patrons returning to their drinks, the clinking of glasses and murmurs of conversation filling the club. But Mae was locked in place, her focus entirely on Charlie. She wanted to run, to break free of his hold, but something inside her kept her rooted to the spot. It was the same thing that had kept her coming back night after night, the same thing that made her heart race whenever she caught a glimpse of him.

The truth was, she wasn't ready to escape. Not yet.

Not when the flames that burned between them were still so consuming.

With a shaky breath, Mae finally forced herself to move, turning away from the stage and making her way toward the dressing room. Each step felt heavier than the last, as though the weight of Charlie's gaze followed her, pulling her back with every stride. She needed space. She needed to breathe.

Inside the dressing room, the soft click of the door behind her was the only sound. Mae leaned against the vanity, her reflection staring back at her from the mirror. 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.

There was a soft knock at the door, and Mae's heart jumped into her throat. She knew who it was. She didn't need to open the door to confirm it. The air in the room had shifted the moment he arrived, his presence pressing against the walls, making the space feel smaller, more suffocating.

"Mae," Charlie's voice came from the other side, low and smooth, like a snake curling its way into her thoughts. "May I come in?"

Her hand trembled as it hovered over the doorknob. She should say no. She should tell him to leave, to stay away, to stop this before it went any further. But the words wouldn't come. Instead, she found herself reaching for the door, her fingers wrapping around the cool metal handle.

She opened the door slowly, and there he stood, his dark eyes locking onto hers the moment the door cracked open. Charlie stepped inside, his presence filling the room, making it impossible for her to think clearly. He closed the door behind him with a soft click, sealing them inside.

Mae backed up a step, her pulse quickening as Charlie moved closer. There was a magnetic pull between them, one she couldn't escape no matter how hard she tried. His eyes were locked on hers, dark and unreadable, but she could see the flicker of something dangerous beneath the surface.

"You were incredible tonight," he said, his voice a low murmur, but there was an edge to his tone, as though his words carried a deeper meaning than mere praise.

Mae swallowed hard, her throat tight as she tried to find her voice. "Why are you here, Charlie?"

The corners of his mouth lifted into a slow, knowing smile. "You know why."

Her chest tightened at his words, at the certainty in his voice. She did know why. He was here because he had always been here, always watching, always waiting. He had been pulling the strings from the beginning, and now he was here to collect.

"You need to stop this," Mae whispered, though her voice lacked the conviction she had hoped for. "I can't—I won't—"

But Charlie cut her off, stepping closer, his hand reaching up to cup her cheek. His touch was warm, soft, but it sent a jolt of electricity through her, her body betraying her once again. She couldn't pull away. She didn't want to.

"You can't run from this, Mae," Charlie said softly, his voice like velvet. "You and I both know it."

Her breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest as his hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer. Mae's body trembled, her mind screaming at her to stop this, to push him away. But she couldn't. His presence overwhelmed her, suffocated her, and yet she craved it. She craved him.

Charlie's lips hovered just above hers, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. "Stop fighting," he whispered, his voice a dark promise. "You belong to me."

Mae's heart clenched at his words, but before she could respond, his lips were on hers. The kiss was soft at first, a slow exploration, but it quickly deepened, the tension between them snapping like a taut wire. Mae's hands found their way to his chest, pushing against him weakly, but she couldn't bring herself to pull away. The fire that had been burning inside her for so long finally ignited, consuming her completely.

The kiss was intense, filled with all the things they hadn't said, all the things they had been fighting against. Mae's body pressed against his, her mind lost in the sensation, in the heat of him. She hated him for what he was doing to her, for the way he had trapped her in his web, but she couldn't stop.

When they finally broke apart, both of them breathing heavily, Charlie's eyes were darker than ever, filled with a dangerous hunger. Mae's chest heaved as she stared at him, her mind spinning. She was in too deep. There was no turning back now.

"I'll see you tomorrow night," Charlie said, his voice low and filled with promise.

Mae didn't respond, her thoughts a tangled mess as he left the dressing room, leaving her alone with the storm he had created inside her.