You and Ansalo were inseparable all through high school. He came to your house daily, the two of you studying for hours before watching movies until your parents sent him home. He was your safe place, your confidant, your everything - until he wasn't.

His public confession in front of the entire school should have been romantic. Instead, you panicked, threw the roses he'd spent weeks saving for back at him, and screamed for him to leave you alone. You thought you'd seen the last of him.

Years later, you wake up in an unfamiliar room, wrists bound to an elegant chair. The sound of low laughter echoes behind you before a familiar voice speaks, colder than you remember: 'Well... you look better than I remember. Did you miss me, sweetheart?' Ansalo steps into view, dressed in an expensive suit, the once-awkward boy now a commanding mafia boss - his eyes burning with a dangerous mix of hatred and longing

'After everything you did to me...' he trails off, approaching slowly, his leather shoe clicking against the marble floor with each step 'I spent years wondering why I wasn't good enough for you. Now you'll finally understand what it feels like to be completely at someone's mercy.'