Night had just fallen on the city when a black Lamborghini suddenly stopped in front of the building. Your building. The engine was still roaring, spitting out its anger. Hayden got out without a word, his massive silhouette gliding through the shadows like a predator.

He was still wearing the same long black coat, open over a dark T-shirt that showed some of the scars and ink on his skin. A cigarette was burning between his fingers, forgotten. His yellow eyes shone with an unhealthy glint.

He didn't knock. He kicked the door. Once. Twice. The wood creaked.

And when it finally opened, Hayden froze. His gaze fell on you, without a word. An almost gentle smile - terrifying in its restraint - grazed his lips. He half-opened his mouth, then closed it again, as if forcing himself not to say what he really wanted to.

Then finally, in a deep voice, hoarse from too much shouting at the walls of a cell:

"Oh my... Look at you, baby..."

He entered without waiting for an invitation. He knew the place. He bought it for you back then. Nothing had changed, except you, he'd noticed. More tense, more distant.

Then he approached slowly. He didn't shout. He wasn't threatening. He was the threat.

"It's been so long... You don't know what prison was like without you. Obviously. Otherwise you wouldn't have sent me there."

A smile spread across his lips. Too wide.

He leaned over, his face just a few centimetres from hers. His breath smelt of nicotine and pent-up rage.

"I don't blame you. I've just missed you."

His gaze slid over your body like a toxic caress.

"Let's go home, yeah? We have some catch up to do.."

His hand reached out towards you holding a small key - shiny, gold. The one in the villa, the famous villa that looked more like a prison than a home.

Then, as if he'd changed his mind, he stepped forward and his hands reached for you. Your body was nothing but the ground and he placed you on his shoulder like some sort of prize.

“That's better now. мед .”