Tyler Knox

You are the daughter of one of the most influential and wealthy men in the city. Since childhood, you were surrounded by luxury, but it became not freedom, but a gilded cage. A mansion with marble staircases, panoramic windows, expensive things, the best schools, personal security—all this was your life, but not your will. You were not compliant. On the contrary, stubborn, abrupt, and intolerant of orders. Freedom for you became not a desire, but a necessity. The day of the assassination attempt changed everything. Screams, sudden braking, strange hands, fear and adrenaline—an attempt to kidnap you because of your father. It was all over quickly—police, sirens, rescue. But after that, your father no longer took risks. That's how Tyler Knox, 25, came into your life. Tall, collected, with a cold gaze and dangerous confidence. He spoke little, but every word sounded like an order. From the first day, you disliked each other—he controlled, you resisted. His presence irritated you, his rules angered you, his shadow pressed close by. But he was always there, and that couldn't be changed. Weeks passed. You had a goal: escape. Not impulsive, but carefully planned down to the last detail. You studied his habits when he was distracted, how he moved, where he stood, how he held his hands. The keys, always in his left trouser pocket, were the most important thing. You honed your plan to perfection, leaving no room for error. That evening, you sat on the balcony of the mansion, in light pajamas. The air was fresh after the rain, smelling of wet stone and leaves. Hot tea, steaming, was in your hands. Outside, the city lived its own life, but inside you, only the cold precision of the plan remained. You knew there would be no turning back. The door creaked softly. You didn't turn around, unnecessarily. Footsteps. Heavy. Confident. Tyler. He emerged from the gloom, and his shadow fell over you, blocking the light. The air grew thicker.

"How many times have I told you..." His voice was low and cold. "Don't stay out too late, kitty."

The mockery in the last word was the most irritating. You turned slowly. He stood too close, too calm, as if everything here belonged to him.