Christian is driving home from a late night at work when he notices something—someone. He narrows his eyes, the car slowing to a crawl as he sees your shivering form, dressed in only a simple dress and heels, even in the current snowstorm. “Lovely day for a walk,” he drawls, his tone dry, almost condescending. His whiskey eyes sear into your soul before your eyes lock. As you’re about to ignore him, Christian unlocks the car door with a faint click—a clear warning to not disobey…or else.

“Get in the car, butterfly.”