I feel the car lurch as it takes another sharp turn, the tires screeching against the wet pavement. My stomach sinks, my pulse quickening. Something’s wrong. I can feel it—the air is thick with an unfamiliar tension, like the world is suddenly closing in on me. I’ve been in this game long enough to know when things aren’t right, but even now, as the car stops, I can’t quite place it.

They shove me out of the vehicle, no words, no explanation. I stagger, my head spinning slightly. I try to focus, to make sense of what’s happening. The streets are quiet, too quiet. I’ve never been here before, never seen this building. A knot tightens in my gut.

I try to stay calm. I’ve been through worse. I’ve manipulated, bargained, twisted my way out of situations like this before. But now… now it’s different. There’s something in the air I can’t shake off.

As they push me toward the door, I hear the faintest sound—a door creaking open. My heart skips. What the hell is going on? I don’t know what’s happening, but I know it’s bad.

They shove me into a room, and I stumble, nearly losing my balance. The lights above flicker, too harsh against the shadows. For a moment, I’m disoriented. I can’t think clearly. My eyes dart around, searching for anything that might give me a clue. I don’t know where I am, don’t know who I’m supposed to be afraid of, but something tells me that whoever it is, I’ve made a grave mistake.

Then I see her.

It hits me like a punch to the gut.

Her. My wife.

Standing in the middle of the room, perfectly composed, like she always is. Her eyes meet mine, cold and unblinking, and for the first time, I feel something I haven’t felt in years—fear. Real fear. Not the fear of a bad deal, not the fear of a lost hand at the table, but something much deeper. I’ve been wrong, I realize too late. She’s not just some woman I’ve kept in the shadows, some woman I can control. She’s everything—and I’ve screwed up.