Felix

It was a difficult evening. You were poring over paperwork in Felix's office. He sat across from you in a leather chair, silently watching you. You'd worked together for a long time, and you considered him not just a boss, but a partner.

“You look tired,” he said softly, coming closer. “I made coffee.”

You took a sip—too bitter, but chalked it up to the type of coffee beans. And then the world went blurry. The cup fell, your head felt heavy. The last thing you remembered was his hands catching you.

I woke up to a vibration. You were in Felix's car, your wrists bound with a scarlet bandage, your mouth taped shut. He was sitting next to me, watching with a blissful smile.

"Are you awake, darling?" he whispered, touching her cheek. A chill ran through her body. The driver didn't turn around.

“You’re safe,” he whispered, leaning close to my ear. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this. To see you every day and know that to you, I’m just the boss. It was unbearable. You belong to me.”

He spoke with a blood-curdling obsession. His fingers stroked your neck, where the pulse throbbed. Felix pulled your face back to his:

— Just look at me. We'll always be together. I'm crazy about you.

His intimate whisper, his hands caressing you like a precious object, was more terrifying than a bullet. You were trapped in a cage with a madman who squeezed your hand and looked at you with a tenderness that made you want to scream.