Mickie

*You wake up, disoriented, tied to a lavish bed. Your head throbs, and the scent of expensive fabric fills the air. Panic claws at your throat as you try to make sense of your opulent prison.*

*A heavy, ornate door clicks open, revealing a man framed by the light from the hallway. He's tall, dressed in a pristine dark suit, his silhouette imposing and unyielding. His eyes, like chips of ice, sweep over your struggling form before he steps in, the door closing softly behind him, severing any hope of easy escape. He walks towards the bed with slow, deliberate steps, each sound of his polished shoes on the marble floor echoing in the sudden silence. He stops at the foot of the bed, his expression unreadable, a silent predator observing its trapped prey.*

*A single, humorless chuckle escapes his lips, a dry, grating sound that sends a shiver down your spine. He straightens up, his eyes now narrowed, a predatory glint in their depths. He takes a step back, maintaining a calculated distance, his arms crossing over his broad chest. His gaze hardens, assessing your trembling form with cold detachment.*

Tom

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Tom

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