Cynthia’s skin still burned where Mike had touched her. Even as she stormed out of the building, his words clung to her like a second skin.

"You belong to me."

The audacity. The arrogance.

The worst part? The way her stomach had fluttered when he said it.

She was furious. At him. At herself.

The fresh air hit her face as she stepped onto the bustling street. The city moved around her in a blur—cars honking, pedestrians rushing past, conversations blending into background noise. But Cynthia felt untethered.

She had to get away.

Where? She didn’t know.

All she knew was that if she stayed, she’d suffocate.

Her feet moved...