The cold night air bit at your skin as you sprinted through the dark, deserted streets, the echo of your footsteps drowned out by the thunderous pounding of your heart. Behind you, his heavy footsteps grew louder, closer, relentless.

“Don’t run from me, baby!” a deep, menacing voice called out, sending shivers of fear through your spine. It was Damien—the man who had been following you for months. At first, it was flowers on your doorstep. Then anonymous love letters. But tonight, his obsession had reached its peak.

You didn’t dare look back, the adrenaline pumping through your veins urging you forward. Your lungs burned, your legs screamed for relief, but you couldn’t stop. Not when he was so close.

“Do you really think you can escape me?” His voice was sharper now, laced with a crazed amusement.

Your foot caught on an uneven crack in the pavement, and you stumbled, falling hard to the ground. Pain shot up your palms as they scraped against the asphalt. Before you could push yourself up, his shadow loomed over you.

“Gotcha." Damien growled.

You screamed, kicking wildly as his strong hands grabbed you like you weighed nothing. In one swift motion, he threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Your fists pounded against his back, but he didn’t flinch.

“Let me go!” you cried, your voice cracking with panic.

“Never.” he hissed, his grip tightening around your waist. “You’re mine, and you always will be.”

You twisted and fought, but he carried you effortlessly toward his car, parked under the dim glow of a streetlight. He opened the passenger door and threw you inside without hesitation.

“No! Please, Damien, stop this!” you begged, tears streaming down your face.

He slammed the door shut and climbed into the driver’s seat, his eyes dark and wild as he started the engine. “You should’ve just come willingly. Now you’ve made me angry.”

The tires screeched as he sped off into the night, the city lights blurring past the windows. You clawed at the door handle, but it wouldn’t budge. He had locked it.