The next day, the air inside Hell's Angels felt different—heavier, thicker, as though it was filled with a tension Mae couldn't quite name. It was as if the entire club was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

Mae sat at the bar, nursing a glass of water, her mind still spinning from the conversation with Charlie the night before. She had barely slept, the weight of his words pressing down on her, suffocating her. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his face, heard his voice—the warning he had left her with, the unspoken threat lingering in the air.

You won't like what happens if you don't stop.

But how could she stop? How could she keep living like this, performing every night, knowing that she was nothing more than a pawn in someone else's game? The fear that had been gnawing at her for weeks had only grown, consuming her from the inside out.

She glanced around the club, her eyes scanning the familiar faces of the staff, the dancers, the patrons. Everything looked the same, but it wasn't. Something had shifted, and Mae could feel it in her bones.

Her phone buzzed on the bar beside her, and Mae's stomach clenched as she reached for it. She half-expected another cryptic message, another threat, but it was just a notification—an email from one of the club's managers.

Mae's hand trembled as she opened it, her eyes scanning the words.

"Your performance schedule has been changed. Be ready for a private event tomorrow night. Details to follow."

Her blood ran cold. A private event. That could mean anything—anything the people behind the scenes wanted it to mean.

She looked up from the phone, her heart pounding in her chest. She had to get out of here. She had to leave, before—

A hand touched her shoulder, and Mae jumped, spinning around to see one of the bouncers standing behind her. His expression was neutral, but there was something in his eyes that sent a chill down her spine.

"Boss wants to see you," he said, his voice low.

Mae's pulse quickened, her heart slamming against her ribs. "Now?"

The bouncer nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. "Now."

She swallowed hard, her mind racing as she stood up and followed him through the club, her legs feeling like they were made of lead. Every step she took brought her closer to something she couldn't quite name—something dark, something dangerous.

They reached the door to Charlie's office, and the bouncer knocked once before pushing it open. Mae's heart pounded in her chest as she stepped inside, her breath catching in her throat.

Charlie sat behind his desk, his expression unreadable as he looked up at her. The room felt colder than usual, the air thick with tension.

"Mae," he said, his voice calm, but there was something in his eyes that made her blood run cold. "We need to talk."

Mae's hands trembled at her sides as she stood there, waiting for him to continue, her heart racing in her chest.

"I told you before," Charlie said, his gaze locking onto hers, "you're in over your head. You've been asking too many questions. And now, it's time for you to decide."

Mae swallowed hard, her throat dry as she stared at him. "Decide what?"

Charlie leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving hers. "Decide if you're going to keep playing this game, or if you're going to run. But I'll warn you now, Mae—if you choose to run, there's no coming back."

The room seemed to close in around her, the weight of his words pressing down on her like a vice. She couldn't run. She couldn't stay. There was no escape, no way out.

Her pulse pounded in her ears as she stared at him, her mind racing. She was caught, trapped with the realization that no matter what she did, she was trapped. The game had been set long before she had even stepped foot in the club, and now, she was nothing more than another pawn.

But as she sat down in front of the vanity, her reflection staring back at her, Mae knew one thing for certain:

She wasn't going to let them break her. Not yet.

The next few days passed in a blur of tension and uncertainty. Mae went through the motions—performing, smiling, playing her part—but everything felt different. The air inside Hell's Angels was charged, thick with a tension that hung over everything like a storm cloud.

Charlie's words echoed in her mind every time she stepped on stage, every time she caught a glimpse of the dark corners of the club where unseen eyes watched her every move.

"You're not free."

The reminders came in subtle ways—a glance from one of the bouncers, the occasional text message that appeared on her phone with no name attached. They were always there, always watching, making sure she stayed in line.

But Mae couldn't shake the feeling that something was coming, something bigger than she had anticipated. It wasn't just the threat of being watched. It was the sense that the game was about to shift, that she was on the verge of discovering something that would change everything.

Late one night, after another exhausting performance, Mae sat alone in her dressing room, the soft hum of the club's music barely audible through the walls. Her phone buzzed on the vanity beside her, and she picked it up, her heart skipping a beat when she saw the message.

"Meet me tomorrow. 11 p.m. We need to talk. – C"

Mae's pulse quickened as she stared at the message. Charlie had never asked to meet her outside of the club before, and the cryptic nature of the message only fueled her unease.

What did he want?

She typed a quick reply, her fingers trembling slightly.

"Where?"

The response came almost instantly.

"You'll know."

Mae's heart raced as she set the phone down, her mind spinning with possibilities. She didn't know what Charlie wanted, but one thing was clear—whatever this was, it was going to change everything.

The game was shifting, and Mae was about to find herself at the center of it all.