The first thing Ava Sinclair noticed was the cold metal biting into her wrist.
Her eyes snapped open, and for a heartbeat, nothing made sense. The room was unfamiliar — dimly lit, with the faint glow of city lights seeping through tall glass windows. A soft hum of air conditioning buzzed in her ears.
And then she saw him.
A man, perfectly dressed in black, standing a few feet away, hands behind his back, watching her with eyes that could freeze fire.
Her breath caught.
"Who… who are you?" she croaked, panic clawing up her throat.
The man tilted his head slightly, as though amused. "You really don't remember me, do you, Ava?"
Her heart stuttered. Her brain raced, trying to place him. But no name came.
"I-I don't…" Her voice shook.
He took a single step closer, slow, deliberate. The kind of movement that made every nerve in her body scream danger.
"I remember everything about you," he said softly. Then his voice dropped, colder than ice.
"And now, it's time for you to pay."
Ava's mind spun. She tried to struggle against the cuffs, but they were tight, unyielding. Panic surged, burning behind her eyes. Who was he? And why did he hate her so much?
The memory hit her like a punch.
Five years ago… she had made one mistake. One careless choice that had ruined a man's life, shattered his company, and destroyed everything he had built. But she had thought it was over. She had thought he was gone forever.
Apparently… she was wrong.
"Pay?" she whispered, barely audible. "I—I don't know what you mean."
His expression didn't soften. Instead, he leaned slightly forward, and Ava caught the sharp lines of his face in the dim light — chiseled jaw, dark eyes that seemed to pierce straight into her soul, and a look of controlled fury she had never seen before.
"You do," he said simply.
"You remember the scandal. You remember the company. You remember how my life… ended because of you."
Ava's mouth went dry. The words she wanted to say—I'm sorry, I didn't know—felt trapped in her throat. There was no apology big enough, no explanation that could undo what had happened.
"You… you can't be…" she stammered, voice trembling. "Damian Kane?"
He inclined his head, a faint smirk twisting the corners of his mouth. "That's right. Your 'mistake' ruined my company, my reputation… my life. But I survived. I rebuilt everything."
Ava's stomach lurched. She had thought he was gone forever, that the world had swallowed him, that she would never have to face him again. And now here he was, alive, powerful, and full of intent.
"I… I—"
"You will do exactly as I say, Ava," Damian interrupted, his tone hard and absolute. "Or everything you have—your job, your apartment, your family's safety—will crumble."
Her pulse thundered in her ears. "You can't—this is insane!"
He stepped closer. The air around him felt charged, almost tangible, and she realized with a shiver that the calm in his voice was far more terrifying than any scream.
"Insane?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "No, Ava. You think I came back after five years of rebuilding, after watching every move you made, to be insane? No. I came back to make you pay."
Her mind raced. She tried to think, to figure out how she had ended up here. The last thing she remembered was leaving her studio late at night, the quiet hum of the city below, and a strange envelope slid under her door. She hadn't opened it. Or maybe she had… and that had been her mistake.
Damian's gaze was relentless. "You will sign the contract," he said, sliding a leather-bound folder across the polished glass table. "Six months. Full compliance. Your life under my supervision. Fail, and everything you love disappears."
Ava's hands shook as she stared at it. Her instincts screamed to flee, but the cuffs held her tight. Fear clawed at her chest, suffocating and relentless.
"You—what if I say no?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
A corner of Damian's mouth lifted. "Then you will regret it."
The words didn't just hang in the air—they sank into her chest like a weight, heavy and inescapable.
For a moment, all she could do was stare, paralyzed by fear, anger, and disbelief. This was real. Damian Kane was real. He had returned, and nothing would ever be the same.
Then her survival instincts kicked in. She needed leverage, anything. She swallowed hard, trying to steady her voice.
"What exactly… do you want me to do?"
Damian's smirk widened slightly, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Work. Obey. And live under my rules. Six months. Complete. No mistakes."
Ava's stomach twisted. Six months under the control of a man who had every reason to hate her? It was a sentence, not a contract.
But then she noticed something in his eyes—a flicker of something… else. Pain? Obsession? A shadow beneath the ice?
And for a terrifying moment, she realized that he wasn't just angry. He was… watching her, studying her, like a predator calculating every move.
"You'll regret signing this," she muttered under her breath, the words trembling but defiant.
"I doubt that," he said softly, leaning in so close that she could feel the cold radiating off him. "Because once you sign… you belong to me."
Her heart hammered, her mind screaming. She needed a plan, a way out, a miracle. But she also knew that any wrong move could be fatal.
"Fine," she said finally, her voice steadier than she felt. "I'll sign. But this doesn't mean I'm yours."
Damian's eyes narrowed. "We'll see."
Before she could react, he straightened, his presence commanding the entire room. "Tomorrow, we begin. You'll work under my supervision. Every detail of your life will be under scrutiny. Fail me once, and—"
Ava swallowed, a cold pit forming in her stomach. He didn't need to finish the sentence. She already understood.
And then… the unexpected happened. A knock at the door made both of them tense.
"Who is it?" Damian's voice was sharp.
Ava's head snapped to the door. She didn't recognize the voice — a low, neutral tone. But there was an edge of danger in it, a subtle warning.
"Delivery for Ms. Sinclair," the voice said.
Damian's eyes narrowed, but before he could respond, Ava's instincts screamed at her. Something about the way the voice lingered, just slightly off, didn't feel right.
She opened her mouth to warn him—
—and the lights went out.
Total darkness swallowed the room. Ava's heart leaped into her throat as panic set in. The cuffs made movement impossible. She tried to twist, to turn, to find the source of the threat—but all she felt was the cold metal biting into her skin, the stillness of the man beside her… and the growing realization that she was no longer in control of anything.
A whisper, barely audible, brushed past her ear:
"Thought you could hide from me, Ava?"
Her blood ran cold.
And then the power clicked back on.
Damian was gone. The folder was gone. The door—ajar.
Her chest heaved. For a second, she thought it had been a trick, maybe a hallucination. But then she noticed the tiny scrap of paper clutched in her hand. It wasn't there before.
With trembling fingers, she unfolded it.
It read:
> "Time's up. You can't run. You belong to him now."
Her pulse thundered. She looked around the room. Empty. Silent. Yet the tension remained. He could be anywhere. Watching. Waiting.
Ava realized one terrifying truth: the game had already begun, and she had no idea what the rules were — except that losing could cost her everything.
She pressed her back against the wall, struggling to steady her breathing. The leather folder, the cuffs, the sudden disappearance of Damian Kane… it was all a message.
And she knew, deep down: this was only the beginning.