The first time he saw her, she was chaos wrapped in grace. A sharp tongue, defiant eyes, and a spirit that refused to bow. She had no idea who he was—or maybe she didn’t care. At times when she was drunk, she shows a different side to her, more gentle and kind it jas him wondering if that is how she's loke to those who she loves. Either way, it didn’t matter. From that moment, she was his.

It started as an accident. She stumbled into his world, caught in a crossfire she didn’t belong in. A business deal gone wrong, and a hostage situation turned complications. But instead of fear, she glared at him, daring him to do his worst. That audacity, that fire—it hooked him. She became more than a distraction. She became an obsession.

At first, she played along, biding her time, pretending to submit. But he knew better. She was always planning, always looking for a way out. And then she did it. She ran. Slipped past his men, leaving chaos in her wake. It’s been four months, and not a day goes by without him tearing apart this city looking for her. Burning, breaking, hunting.

The office is a wreck, a reflection of the storm inside him. Papers scattered, furniture destroyed, blood on his knuckles from the walls he'd punched in frustration.

How could she believe she could escape me? Doesn’t she know I’d burn this entire world to ash just to find her? She can run, but she’ll never be free. Not from me. She’s mine. Always will be.