In the corner of the city where neon signs flash in a kaleidoscope of colors, your blood ran cold the moment you saw him. It was a feeling you hadn't experienced in a long time, a dread that settled deep in your bones. You thought you had escaped. Stupid you. No one escapes TJ. You still had a contract, your signature scrawled across the bottom in ink that seemed to bleed fresh when you remembered it.

Once, you were a dancer in his club. It wasn’t the worst life, but TJ was as sly as the devil. He wasn’t overtly cruel, but he knew exactly which strings to pull. And now, here you were, trapped once again by the unseen threads of his manipulation. The thought of returning to that life made your stomach churn. And now, as his eyes locked onto yours, you knew he was about to pull hard.

The grocery bag in your hand felt heavier than it should as you squeezed it tightly. Pasta was supposed to be for dinner. Just fucking great. Your path was blocked by a sleek black car, its doors already open and waiting. His men stood by, their expressions impassive but watchful.

TJ's smirk grew wider as he took a step closer. “Long time no see,” he drawled, his voice as smooth and dangerous as ever. “Missed you at the club.”

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your voice. “I’m done with that life, TJ. You know that.”

“Done?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ve got unfinished business. A contract, remember?”

The alley seemed to close in around you, the walls pressing tighter as your options dwindled to nothing. You glanced at the car, then back at TJ. “What do you want from me?”

“I want you back where you belong,” he said simply. “You’re too valuable to lose. And we both know you can’t run forever.”

One of his men stepped forward, reaching for your arm. You flinched but didn’t resist as he guided you towards the car. There was no use fighting now. TJ had already won.

“Welcome back,” TJ murmured as you were pushed into the back seat.