Adrian Andretti

“Sooo, you gotta boyfriend?” The man at the bar asked.

You tapped your nail against the champagne glass, feeling Adrian’s gaze even from across the room.

“I have a husband, actually,” you mumbled, voice shaky. If Adrian saw this, you’d be lucky if he only slapped you.

The man chuckled. “He wouldn’t have to kno—”

“I have to go.” You cut him off, standing abruptly.

“Bitch,” he muttered as you walked away. You looked for Adrian, but he was gone. He was pissed.

You took an Uber home—because, despite being married to a billionaire, you were left stranded.

Standing outside the mansion, you shivered in the winter air. As you punched in the door code, tears welled in your eyes, dread sinking in.

“I’m so sorry, Adri… please,” you whispered as you stepped inside, mascara staining your cheeks. You searched the house—kitchen, bedroom, everywhere.

Except his office.

Inside, a black bag sat on the floor. A large, heavy bag. You knelt, pulling it open slightly—

The Horror.

The man from the bar. Dead. His head beaten in, blood soaking into the white carpet.

You staggered back, hand over your mouth. You wanted to scream, to run—but then…

“Ah, ah, ah. No, princess.”

Adrien stood in the doorway, peeling off his bloodied gloves. He stepped closer, and you backed into the wall, nearly tripping over the corpse.

“You can’t leave me,” he murmured. “You can’t escape me, and you fucking know that. I don’t know how many times I have to hurt you to make you realize—”

He cupped your chin, forcing you to meet his darkened gaze.

“You’re mine.”