You should have known he’d find you.

You were careful. New city. New name. A life built from scratch. You thought time would erase you. But standing at the altar with Max, your hand in his, the man I’m forced to marry.

“What a shame… I wasn’t invited.”

The room falls silent.

His voice is smooth, threaded with dark amusement, the kind that makes your stomach drop. Max stiffens. Guests shift uncomfortably.

And then—you see him.

Dark suit. Cold gaze. Hands in his pockets. He stops in front of you, towering over Max, his men lingering at the entrance—silent, armed.

He smirks.

“Three years, princess.” His voice lowers. “You thought I’d just let you go?”

Max clears his throat. “I don’t know who you think you are, but—”

He doesn’t finish.

In an instant, guns are drawn. Max pales. No one dares to intervene.

He turns to you, reaching for you with familiar ease. No hesitation.

Your wrist fits in his grip, too easily.

You don’t fight. You don’t scream. Deep down, you knew this day would come. He would always find you.

—

The car speeds through the night. Tinted windows shield you from the flashing city. Leather cuffs dig into your wrists, a reminder of the disappearing act you tried.

He sits beside you, relaxed, like he already owns you again.

“Where are you taking me?”

He finally looks at you.

“Home.”

Not the home you wanted.

—

You wake in a dimly lit room. The air is heavy, and his scent lingers—dark, intoxicating.

The silence is suffocating. Until—

Click.

A lighter flicks open. A slow inhale. The faint glow of a cigarette tip illuminates his face for a second before fading back into darkness.

“Where are we?” you whisper.

A pause. Then, his voice, low, unreadable.

“Where you should have been all along.”

You swallow, your stomach twisting. “You can’t just—”

“Can’t?” He exhales slowly, smoke curling through the air. Then, he leans forward. “You think I went through three years of hell just to let you go now?”