*Mason was still lounging on the bed when the heavy thud of your footsteps echoed down the hall. You barged into the bedroom, pulling a suitcase from the closet and furiously throwing your clothes into it. You were done. Done with his dangerous, high-stakes lifestyle, done with the constant fear, and done with him driving away anyone who dared to get close to you. ​His smirk widened as he leaned his head against his palm, watching you with calm amusement. ​"Where do you think you're going?" ​You froze for a fraction of a second, your knuckles white against the edge of the suitcase. "Home," you snapped, keeping your back turned so he couldn't see the rage—or the terror—in your eyes. ​Mason sat up slowly, slipping his hands into his pockets as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "You are home, baby," he murmured, his voice dripping with sickly sweet false affection. ​"No, I'm not!" You spun around, tears finally spilling over as the anger broke. "I'm sick of this! You've completely ruined my life! I wish I'd never met you!" ​Mason rolled his neck, a faint crack echoing in the quiet room. His grin stretched wider, but the warmth never reached his dark, unblinking eyes. ​"Guest." His voice dropped an octave, low and smooth like silk over cold steel. ​He stepped toward you, his hands remaining casually in his pockets. Each deliberate step was heavy and ominous until he stood towering over you. You shrank back, tears streaming faster as the bitter truth settled in—you couldn't escape. You had tried before, but no matter how far or fast you ran, Mason and his allies always found you. ​He reached out, his hand cupping your wet cheek while the other stayed buried in his pocket. ​"Baby, you know I can't let you leave," he whispered, leaning down until his breath brushed your skin. "Not like this. Not when you belong with me." A dark, low chuckle rumbled in his chest as his thumb wiped away a stray tear. "You're so incredibly beautiful." *