The light from Mae's phone cast a faint glow across the dark room as she stared at the screen, waiting for another message to come through. Her heart raced, every second dragging out into what felt like an eternity. The club had been unusually quiet since Frank's disappearance. She had heard the whispers, the rumors about what had happened, but no one had told her anything concrete.

No one dared to.

And now, here she was, lying in her bed, tangled in a web of uncertainty and fear, staring at a text message from him.

Whoever he was.

The message had come just a few minutes ago. The first one in days.

"I hope you're getting some rest, Mae. You'll need your strength soon."

The casual tone of the message made her blood run cold. It was a reminder that, no matter how hard she tried to maintain control, this man was always one step ahead. He was watching her, tracking her every move, and there was nothing she could do about it. The weight of the situation had begun to press down on her, harder than ever.

But what scared her more than the texts was how easily she'd begun to engage with him. How, despite knowing the danger, there was something compelling about the game they played. It felt like a twisted form of entertainment, something that gave her the illusion of control, even if she knew deep down that it was just that—an illusion.

She tapped out a quick reply, her fingers trembling slightly as she hit send.

"What do you mean by that? What's coming?"

She didn't expect an immediate response, but her phone buzzed just seconds later. The man seemed to always know when she was ready for more, always prepared to reel her in with just the right amount of cryptic allure.

"Let's just say I have plans for you, Mae. You're special, and I've been watching you closely. The question is, are you ready to play your part?"

Her throat tightened. She didn't know how to respond to that. What was her part? She had been dancing for Hell's Angels for months now, performing night after night, but something told her this wasn't about her performances. This was about something much deeper.

She chewed her lip, staring at the message for what felt like an eternity before typing out a response.

"I didn't ask for any of this. You're the one pulling the strings. So, what do you really want from me?"

There was a longer pause this time, and for a moment, Mae wondered if she had pushed too far. But when the response finally came, it wasn't what she expected.

"I want you to understand your potential. I want to help you become the woman you were meant to be. But that won't happen if you keep questioning everything. Trust me, Mae. I'll show you what real power feels like."

The message sent a shiver down her spine. Real power? What did that even mean? And why did it feel like he was speaking directly to something inside her, something she hadn't even known she was craving?

A knock at her door startled her, pulling her out of her thoughts. She scrambled out of bed, quickly tossing her phone onto the nightstand before making her way to the door. Her heart raced as she opened it to find Layla standing there, a concerned look on her face.

"Hey, you okay?" Layla asked, her brow furrowed. "You haven't been at the club in a few days, and people are starting to notice."

Mae hesitated, glancing over her shoulder at the phone before stepping aside to let Layla in. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... needed some time."

Layla studied her for a moment before nodding slowly. "I get it. Things have been weird lately. Frank's still missing, and now everyone's on edge."

Mae's stomach twisted. She hadn't told Layla about the texts, about the man who seemed to have her life mapped out in ways she couldn't comprehend. How could she? Layla wouldn't understand. Hell, Mae barely understood it herself.

"I've just been lying low," Mae said, forcing a smile. "I needed to clear my head."

Layla nodded, though the concern didn't leave her face. "You're not thinking about leaving, are you?"

Mae froze, the question hitting her harder than expected. She had thought about it, of course. Thought about packing up and disappearing before whatever this was could fully consume her. But it wasn't that easy. There was nowhere to run. Nowhere he wouldn't find her.

"I don't know," Mae said honestly. "I just... I don't know what to do anymore."

Layla sighed, sitting down on the edge of Mae's bed. "I get it. But whatever's going on, just remember you're not alone, okay? You've got people who care about you."

Mae nodded, though she knew Layla couldn't protect her from what was coming. No one could.

Her phone buzzed again, and her pulse quickened as she glanced at it.

"Tomorrow night. 10 PM. Be ready."

The words were simple, but the weight behind them was immense. Something was happening. Something big.

Layla noticed the look on Mae's face and frowned. "Who's that?"

"No one," Mae said quickly, turning the phone face down on the nightstand. "Just the club."

"Right..." Layla stood up, giving her a lingering glance before heading to the door. "Just... be careful, okay? You've been acting strange lately. If you need help, you can come to me."

"I will," Mae lied.

Once Layla was gone, Mae sank back onto the bed, her heart pounding in her chest. She stared at the phone, at the message that felt like a ticking clock, counting down to something inevitable.

What was he planning?

She thought about responding, thought about asking for more details, but she stopped herself. She didn't want to show him how much he was getting to her. She needed to stay strong, even if it felt like she was unraveling at the seams.

The rest of the night passed in a haze, her mind replaying every interaction with him, every cryptic message. The texts felt like breadcrumbs, leading her down a path she couldn't see the end of. But where did it lead?

She wasn't sure she wanted to know.

The next day was painfully slow, each hour crawling by as Mae waited for the clock to strike ten. She spent most of the day pacing her apartment, the walls feeling like they were closing in around her. Every time her phone buzzed, her stomach lurched, but none of the messages were from him. It was like he was waiting, biding his time, letting the anticipation build.

By the time evening rolled around, Mae was a bundle of nerves. She dressed carefully, not knowing what to expect, not knowing if this was just another test or if it was something more. The texts had been leading up to this—she was sure of it.

As the clock neared ten, her phone buzzed again.

"The club. Room 13. Alone."

The words were simple, but they hit her like a ton of bricks. Alone.

She grabbed her coat and headed out into the night, the cold air biting at her skin. The city was alive with the usual hum of traffic and nightlife, but it all felt distant, as if she were walking in a dream. She made her way to Hell's Angels, her pulse quickening with every step.

When she arrived, the club was just as she had left it—loud, crowded, and pulsing with energy. But tonight, it felt different. The shadows seemed darker, the music more oppressive. She pushed her way through the throngs of people, her heart racing as she approached the private rooms.

Room 13.

Her hand shook as she reached for the handle, her mind racing with possibilities. What would happen once she stepped inside? What did he want from her? And why couldn't she shake the feeling that this was only the beginning?

She opened the door, stepping into the dimly lit room, her breath catching in her throat as she realized she wasn't alone.