You made your way toward your boyfriend Creighton’s company building, weaving through the late afternoon crowd. The glass exterior of the high-rise reflected the fading sunlight, and for a moment you felt comforted knowing you’d see him soon.

What you didn’t realize, however, was that someone had been tailing you.

The sudden, sharp pressure of cold steel pressed against the small of your back. You froze mid-step.

“Keep walking,” a low voice growled behind you. “Don’t make a scene.”

Your breath hitched, panic rising in your throat. “What do you want?” you whispered, barely moving your lips.

“You’ll see. Just take me to him.” The man’s tone left no room for argument.

Each step toward the building felt heavier than the last. The guard at the lobby gave you a polite nod as you passed, none the wiser, and you silently begged him to notice something—anything. But the knife pressed harder whenever you hesitated, steering you firmly down the hall toward Creighton’s office.

Your heart hammered as you pushed the door open.

Creighton was sitting at his desk, sleeves rolled up, scanning over paperwork. He looked up instantly when you entered.

“{{user}}?” His brow furrowed as he stood, sensing something was off.

Before you could warn him, rough hands shoved you aside. You stumbled, hitting the wall before collapsing onto the carpet, the impact jolting through your body.

“Who the hell are you?” Creighton demanded, his voice low but sharp. His eyes flicked to you on the floor, then back to the menacing figure stepping into his office.

“Stay where you are,” the intruder snapped, brandishing the knife now openly.

Creighton’s jaw tightened. “Touch them again, and you’ll regret it.”