Mae sat in the dressing room, her fingers tapping rhythmically on the vanity as she stared at her reflection. The bright lights around the mirror cast a harsh glow over her face, but she barely noticed. Her mind was spinning, the adrenaline from the performance still pulsing through her veins. The man—whoever he was—had been there again tonight. Watching.

Her heart pounded as she replayed the moment their eyes had locked, the intensity of his gaze cutting through the crowd like a blade. It wasn't just that he had been watching her—it was the way he had watched her, like he was waiting for something. Like he knew something she didn't.

She couldn't get his face out of her mind, even though it had been shrouded in shadows. There was something familiar about him, but every time she tried to focus on that feeling, it slipped away like smoke through her fingers.

Mae leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She had to get a grip. She couldn't afford to let her mind spiral out of control, not now. Not when things were already on edge. Frank had been right about one thing—there was more going on at Hell's Angels than met the eye, and if she wasn't careful, she was going to get pulled into something she couldn't handle.

But how could she stay out of it when she was already in too deep?

A knock on the door jolted her from her thoughts. Mae opened her eyes and sat up, smoothing her hair and taking another breath to steady herself. "Come in."

The door creaked open, and one of the other dancers, Layla, poked her head in. "Mae, you okay? You've been in here a while. Frank's asking for you."

Mae forced a smile, though her heart was still racing. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just needed a minute. Tell Frank I'll be right out."

Layla gave her a concerned look but nodded before slipping back out of the room. As the door clicked shut, Mae stood up, brushing off her costume and checking her makeup in the mirror one last time. She needed to stay focused, to keep her head down and do her job. The last thing she needed was to draw more attention to herself.

But the man... he had seen her. Really seen her. And Mae couldn't ignore the feeling that something much bigger was lurking just beyond her reach.

With one last glance at the mirror, Mae turned and left the dressing room, making her way through the dimly lit corridors of the club. The music thumped in the distance, a steady pulse that seemed to match the beat of her heart. She moved quickly, her heels clicking against the floor as she navigated the familiar path backstage.

As she rounded the corner, she spotted Frank near the bar, his face buried in conversation with one of the bartenders. He looked up as she approached, his expression immediately softening into a smile.

"Mae, there you are," he said, his voice warm but laced with the usual edge of business. "Good performance tonight. The crowd loved you."

"Thanks," Mae replied, forcing herself to match his tone. "Anything I should know about for the rest of the night?"

Frank hesitated for a moment, glancing around as if checking to make sure no one was listening. Then he leaned in closer, his voice lowering. "Actually, yeah. I've been hearing things—whispers about some of the VIPs asking about you. It's nothing to worry about yet, but I want you to be careful."

Mae's pulse quickened. "What kind of whispers?"

Frank sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "I don't know all the details, but it sounds like some of the higher-ups have taken an interest in you. You've been drawing a lot of attention lately, and not just from the usual crowd. These are people with money, power. The kind you don't want to piss off."

Mae's stomach twisted, a cold knot of dread settling in her chest. "What do they want?"

Frank shook his head. "Hard to say. Could be anything. But they've been asking questions. About you, your background, where you came from. It's got me on edge, Mae. I don't want you to get caught up in something you can't control."

The knot in Mae's chest tightened. She had known for weeks that something was off, that the attention she was getting wasn't just about her performance. But hearing Frank say it out loud made it real in a way that sent a chill down her spine.

"Do you know who's behind it?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Frank's face darkened. "No. But I've got a few guesses. And none of them are good."

Mae swallowed hard, her mind racing. She had spent years building a life here at Hell's Angels, creating a version of herself that was untouchable, untouchable. But now it seemed like the walls were closing in, and she didn't know how to stop it.

"I'll be careful," she said, her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her insides.

Frank nodded, his eyes softening with concern. "Good. Just keep your head down for now, okay? Don't draw any unnecessary attention. These people... they play by different rules. If they want something, they take it."

Mae nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew Frank was right. She had seen enough in her time at the club to understand that the world she had stepped into wasn't as glamorous as it seemed. It was dangerous, and if she wasn't careful, she would find herself trapped in a game she didn't know how to play.

"I'll be fine," Mae said, trying to reassure both herself and Frank.

Frank gave her a tight smile, but Mae could see the worry in his eyes. "Just don't do anything stupid, Mae. We'll get through this."

Mae nodded, though the weight of his words settled heavily on her shoulders. She had a sinking feeling that getting through this wasn't going to be as simple as staying out of trouble. The man in the shadows was proof of that. And the whispers about her were only getting louder.

As Mae turned to leave, she felt Frank's hand on her arm, stopping her. She looked back at him, surprised by the intensity in his gaze.

"Mae," he said, his voice low and serious. "If you feel like something's off—really off—you come to me. No matter what. Don't try to handle it on your own."

Mae stared at him for a moment, her mind racing with the implications of his words. She had always been independent, always handled things on her own. But now, for the first time, she wondered if that was enough.

"I will," she promised, though the words felt heavy on her tongue.

Frank released her arm, nodding as he stepped back. "Good. Now get some rest. You've earned it."

Mae gave him a final nod before turning and walking away, her thoughts a tangled mess of fear, confusion, and determination. She knew something was coming, something big, and she wasn't sure if she was ready for it. But she didn't have a choice. Whatever storm was brewing, she was already in the middle of it.

And the only way out was through.

Mae walked away from Frank, her heels clicking softly on the polished floor as she moved through the winding halls of Hell's Angels. The pulse of the music grew distant as she distanced herself from the main stage and the crowd, but her thoughts refused to quiet down. Frank's warning echoed in her mind, sending chills down her spine. People were asking questions about her—dangerous people. And the man who had been watching her, the one lurking in the shadows, wasn't just an ordinary patron. He was tied to something bigger, something she didn't fully understand yet.

She reached the back stairwell, slipping out of sight and letting the cold metal railing steady her. The cool air in the dimly lit stairwell felt like a reprieve from the heat of the club, but it did little to calm her racing heart. Mae leaned against the wall, staring at the worn steps beneath her feet, as her mind whirled with possibilities.

Who was he? And why was he so interested in her?

Frank hadn't given her any answers, but Mae knew that he knew more than he was letting on. He had to. Frank always kept one foot in the shadows, always knew what was happening behind the scenes. But the way he had spoken to her tonight—there was fear in his voice. Real fear.

Mae closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to slow her thoughts. She had been working at Hell's Angels long enough to know when things were shifting, when the usual balance of power in the club was tipping. She had seen it before—new investors, powerful clients, shady deals made behind closed doors. But she had never been in the center of it. Not like this.

Her thoughts drifted back to the man in the shadows, his gaze piercing through the darkness, watching her with an intensity that made her skin prickle. There was something familiar about him, but she couldn't put her finger on it. It was like a distant memory, just out of reach, teasing her with the possibility of recognition. And that only made her more uneasy.

A noise from behind her snapped Mae out of her thoughts. She straightened, turning to see Layla approaching, her usual bright expression replaced by a more serious look.

"Hey, everything okay?" Layla asked, her voice low, as she leaned against the railing beside Mae.

Mae hesitated, her fingers gripping the cold metal tightly. She wasn't sure how much she wanted to say, even to someone like Layla, who had been with her at the club for years. There was something different about this—something that felt too dangerous to share openly.

"I don't know," Mae admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "Something's going on, and I'm not sure what to do about it."

Layla raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. "What do you mean? Is it about the crowd tonight?"

Mae glanced around the empty stairwell before speaking again, her voice hushed. "It's not just the crowd. Frank told me people are asking questions about me—people with power. And that guy... the one who's been watching me. He's not just some random VIP. He's different."

Layla frowned, her eyes narrowing in concern. "You think he's connected to something bigger?"

"I don't know," Mae said, shaking her head. "But it feels like it. I've never had this kind of attention before, not like this. And Frank is spooked. That's what scares me."

Layla sighed, leaning closer to Mae. "Look, you know how this place works. People with money and influence come here for all kinds of reasons. Sometimes it's about control, sometimes it's about entertainment. But if Frank is telling you to be careful, you should listen. He knows the game better than anyone."

Mae nodded, her stomach churning with anxiety. "I just don't know what they want from me. And that guy... I can't shake the feeling that he's watching me for a reason."

"Then we figure it out," Layla said, her voice firm. "You're not alone in this, Mae. If something's going down, we'll get through it together."

Mae offered her a small, grateful smile, though the unease in her chest didn't dissipate. It was comforting to have Layla on her side, but deep down, Mae knew that whatever was happening was bigger than the two of them. And the man in the shadows—he wasn't going to disappear. Not until he got what he wanted.

"Thanks," Mae said, her voice soft. "But I don't want to drag you into something dangerous."

Layla shook her head, her expression resolute. "We're already in it, Mae. You're not facing this alone."

Mae nodded, her heart heavy as she considered Layla's words. They were both in this together, but Mae couldn't shake the feeling that the storm brewing around her was far more dangerous than she could have imagined. And she wasn't sure if either of them would come out of it unscathed.

After a few moments of silence, Mae straightened and turned back toward the door. "I need to get back out there," she said, her voice steadier now. "I can't afford to slip up."

Layla nodded, following her as they made their way back into the main corridor. "Just be careful, Mae. And don't let anyone push you around."

As they walked through the backstage area, Mae forced herself to focus, pushing the fear down and putting her mask back in place. She had been playing this role for years, keeping herself distant from the power struggles that went on behind the scenes. But now, it felt like those struggles were closing in on her, and there was no way to avoid them.

When they reached the main floor, Mae spotted Frank at the bar, deep in conversation with one of the bartenders. He glanced up as she approached, giving her a quick nod before turning back to the conversation. Mae watched him for a moment, her mind still spinning with everything he had said.

She had to stay focused. She couldn't let fear get the best of her.

With one last deep breath, Mae stepped into the crowd, her body moving in time with the music as she slipped into her next performance. The bright lights, the roaring applause, and the thumping bass filled her senses, pushing everything else to the background.

But even as she danced, her eyes scanned the room, searching the shadows for any sign of the man who had been watching her.

He was out there, somewhere.

And Mae knew that this was far from over