The city was unusually quiet that night, as if the usual hum of Los Angeles had taken a backseat to something darker, something lurking just beneath the surface. Mae sat in the middle of her apartment, the soft glow from the neon signs outside her window casting eerie shadows on the walls. She had been back from the club for less than an hour, but already her mind was racing, trying to piece together the events of the past few days.

She leaned back against the couch, her eyes tracing the familiar patterns of her apartment, but nothing felt normal anymore. Everything in her life was off-balance, tipped by the man who had revealed himself as the mastermind behind Hell's Angels. No matter how much she tried to push it away, his presence, his voice, and the memory of his touch stayed with her, like an imprint she couldn't erase.

Mae picked up her phone, absently scrolling through messages that she didn't care about. Friends, old acquaintances—none of it mattered anymore. The only message she dreaded receiving, the one she had been anticipating all night, hadn't come. It was like waiting for the other shoe to drop, knowing it would, but not knowing when.

Her phone buzzed in her hand, pulling her out of her thoughts. Mae's heart leaped into her throat as she glanced at the screen. The number was blocked.

A chill ran down her spine. She stared at the message, her pulse quickening.

"You're not leaving. We'll make sure of that."

Her breath caught in her chest. The message was short, direct, and filled with a threat she couldn't ignore. Her fingers trembled as she set the phone down, her mind spinning. The warning from before had been clear enough, but now it was real. They were watching her, and they weren't about to let her go that easily.

Panic bubbled up inside her. She stood up quickly, pacing the length of her living room, her mind racing with the implications. She had been playing with fire for so long, convincing herself that she could outsmart the people behind the club. But now it was clear—they weren't just going to watch her from the sidelines. They were going to act.

Mae stopped in front of the window, looking out over the city below. Everything seemed so calm, so normal. People were going about their lives, oblivious to the fact that hers was slowly unraveling. And yet, here she was, trapped in a nightmare she had never expected.

She grabbed her phone again, her thumb hovering over the call button. She could call Frank, ask him what to do, but even as the thought crossed her mind, she knew it was pointless. Frank had warned her about the dangers, but there was only so much he could do. The men behind Hell's Angels had the kind of power that no one could easily escape from.

Her phone buzzed again, this time with a different message.

"We're outside."

Mae's stomach dropped. Her heart raced as she darted to the window, pulling back the curtains just enough to peer outside. For a moment, she saw nothing, just the usual flicker of headlights and passing cars. But then her eyes caught movement in the shadows—figures, lingering near the entrance of her building.

A wave of dread washed over her. They were here. Whoever they were, they had come for her.

She backed away from the window, her hands shaking as she tried to think. She needed to get out. But how? They were already here. There was no time to plan, no time to think about what to do next. Mae's mind raced as she moved toward the door, thinking of any possible way to escape.

But before she could reach the handle, there was a loud knock.

The sound echoed through the small apartment, and Mae froze in place, her hand hovering just inches from the doorknob. She knew who it was, but hearing them at the door made it all too real. There was no way out.

The knock came again, louder this time, more insistent.

"Mae," a voice called from the other side. It was low, rough, and unfamiliar. "We know you're in there. Open the door."

Her heart hammered in her chest as she backed away, looking around the room for anything she could use to defend herself. But what was the point? Even if she fought back, there were too many of them. They would overpower her. She knew it.

The door rattled as the men pounded on it again, harder this time. "Open up, or we'll break it down."

Mae's breath came in short gasps as panic overtook her. She had no choice. If she didn't open the door, they would force their way in. And if she ran, there was no doubt in her mind they would catch her. She had nowhere to go.

Her hands trembled as she reached for the doorknob, twisting it slowly and pulling the door open just enough to see the men standing on the other side. There were three of them, dressed in dark clothes, their faces cold and unreadable. They didn't look like hired goons—these men were professionals, sent with a specific purpose.

One of them, the one closest to her, smiled faintly. "Good choice. Now, let's make this easy, Mae."

Her stomach twisted, but she nodded, stepping back as they entered the apartment. The lead man, the one with the smile, looked around as if assessing her place, but his eyes always came back to her.

"You've been thinking of leaving, haven't you?" he asked, his voice calm, almost casual. "We can't have that. Not after everything we've done for you."

Mae swallowed hard, forcing herself to speak. "I... I'm not leaving."

The man's smile widened, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Smart girl. But we're here to make sure of that."

He nodded to the two men behind him, and before Mae could react, they grabbed her arms, pulling her toward the couch. She struggled, but their grip was ironclad, and her heart raced with fear as they forced her to sit down.

"You're going to stay at the club," the lead man said, his tone shifting to something more threatening. "You're going to keep performing, and you're going to do whatever we tell you. You understand?"

Mae's chest tightened, and she nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "Yes."

"Good," he said, his smile fading as he leaned in closer. "Because if you try to run again, we'll make sure you never get another chance."

The weight of his words crushed her. They weren't just threatening her career—they were threatening her life. She had always known Hell's Angels was dangerous, but this was different. This was real, and there was no way out.

The man straightened up, motioning to the others to release her. As they stepped back, Mae rubbed her wrists, her skin still tingling from their grip.

"We'll be watching," the lead man said, his voice a cold promise. "Don't make us come back."

With that, they turned and left, the door closing behind them with a quiet click. Mae sat frozen on the couch, her heart still racing as the reality of what had just happened settled in.

She was trapped. There was no escape. They had made sure of that.

For the first time in her life, Mae realized that she wasn't in control of her own destiny. They owned her now. And there was nothing she could do about it.

Mae sat on the couch for what felt like hours, her mind racing and her body trembling from the encounter. The weight of their words settled deep in her chest, and the oppressive silence of the room pressed in on her from all sides. She couldn't believe what had just happened—couldn't believe how quickly her world had been turned upside down.

She was trapped.

The realization hit her like a wave, suffocating and cold. The message had been clear—she wasn't going anywhere. Not out of the city, not out of Hell's Angels, not out of their grip. They owned her now, and there was no one left to help her. The men's voices still echoed in her head, their hands on her arms, their threat unmistakable. She had played with fire, and now she was paying the price.

Mae stood shakily, her legs barely supporting her weight as she moved across the room to the window. She pulled the curtains back just enough to peek outside, her eyes scanning the street below. The men were gone, their figures lost in the shadows, but she knew they weren't far. They had made it clear that they were watching her. Always watching.

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her body trembling with a mix of anger and fear. She wanted to scream, to fight back, but she knew it was useless. The moment she had crossed into their world, she had lost any semblance of control. This wasn't just a game anymore—this was survival.

Mae took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She couldn't stay here. She couldn't pretend that everything was fine, that she had any chance of breaking free. The men had made it clear—if she wanted to keep breathing, she had to stay in line. That meant packing up her things and going back to the club, where they could keep an eye on her.

Hell's Angels was her prison now.

With shaking hands, Mae moved toward her bedroom, pulling an old suitcase from the closet and tossing it onto the bed. She stared at it for a long moment, the weight of what she was about to do sinking in. It felt like she was packing up her life, like she was preparing to abandon everything she had fought for—all her freedom, her independence—just to stay alive.

There's no other choice, she reminded herself as she opened the drawers, pulling out clothes and tossing them into the suitcase without thinking. You need to survive. That's all that matters.

She moved mechanically, packing essentials: clothes, makeup, shoes—anything she might need to survive living at the club. The thought made her sick to her stomach. She had always been able to separate her life at Hell's Angels from her personal life, drawing a clear line between the two. But now, that line was gone. There would be no more boundaries, no more safe spaces. The club had consumed her, and there was no escaping it.

As she packed, her thoughts kept drifting back to him—the man behind it all. The one who had revealed himself just days before. She had thought she could play him, thought she could use her seduction and cunning to outsmart him. But he had known all along. He had been watching, waiting, and now, he had her exactly where he wanted her.

A bitter laugh escaped her lips as she stuffed the last of her clothes into the suitcase. She had thought she was in control, but she had never stood a chance. He had orchestrated everything, pulling the strings while she danced to his tune. And now, here she was, packing up her life to go live in the very place where he ruled.

She zipped up the suitcase with a force that made her hands ache, a surge of anger and frustration bubbling up inside her. She couldn't stop thinking about the way he had looked at her, the way he had spoken to her, as if he knew her—really knew her, inside and out. It wasn't just control. It was personal.

Mae paused, her hands gripping the edge of the suitcase. A thought crept into her mind, one that made her stomach turn with both fear and a strange, unsettling curiosity. Was he the one behind tonight? Was this his way of reminding me who's in charge?

She didn't want to believe it, but it made sense. He had the power, the influence, and the control. If he wanted to keep her under his thumb, this was exactly how he would do it—through fear, through intimidation, through taking away her choices.

Her fingers dug into the fabric of the suitcase as her mind raced. She could picture him, standing in the shadows, watching her every move, his eyes filled with that same quiet intensity that had haunted her for days. He had warned her—warned her that she would need him. And now, it seemed like he had been right.

Mae exhaled sharply, pushing the thought away. She couldn't let herself fall into that trap, couldn't let herself believe that he had any kind of hold over her heart. This was about survival, nothing more. She had to stay focused, had to keep her wits about her, or she would lose everything.

She grabbed her phone, checking the time. It was late, but that didn't matter anymore. The men had made it clear—there was no running, no hiding. The only option was to show up at the club, bags in hand, and make sure they knew she was staying exactly where they wanted her.

Mae threw her phone into her purse and pulled her suitcase off the bed. She stood in the doorway of her apartment for a moment, taking in the space around her. It wasn't much, but it had been hers—her sanctuary, her escape from the chaos of the club. And now, she was leaving it behind.

This isn't goodbye forever, she told herself, though the words felt hollow. You're just doing what you need to survive. You can figure out how to break free later.

With one last glance around the apartment, Mae stepped into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind her. The suitcase rolled quietly across the floor as she made her way to the elevator, her heart pounding with every step. She felt exposed, vulnerable, like they were watching her every move, even now.

The elevator doors slid open, and Mae stepped inside, her hands gripping the handle of the suitcase tightly. The ride down felt like an eternity, her mind racing with possibilities, plans, and the weight of what lay ahead.

When the doors finally opened, she was greeted by the cool night air. The street outside was quieter than usual, the flickering streetlights casting long shadows on the pavement. She could feel the weight of unseen eyes on her as she stepped out onto the sidewalk, pulling her suitcase behind her.

Mae's pulse quickened as she moved through the city, her steps quick and determined. She knew where she had to go—back to the club, back to the place that had become both her prison and her stage.

As she walked, her thoughts kept drifting back to him. The man behind it all. The one who had pulled the strings and set her life on this twisted path. She couldn't shake the feeling that this was all part of his plan—that he was waiting for her, watching her, even now.

And despite everything, despite the fear and the anger that burned inside her, Mae couldn't help but wonder what would happen when she saw him again. Would she confront him? Would she demand answers? Or would she, once again, find herself falling deeper into his web, unable to escape the pull he had over her?

Mae shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. It didn't matter. All that mattered now was survival. And for that, she had no choice but to go back to Hell's Angels.

No matter what waited for her there