“I… I didn’t mean to,” I stammered, my voice muffled against the cold steel. “It was an accident. The button on my jeans… I just leaned…”

“An accident?” He tightened his grip, yanking my head back. A sharp pain shot through my scalp. “You think this is just an accident? I’m gonna make you pay.”

Panic clawed at my throat. I struggled, kicking out blindly, but he was too strong. My purse slipped from my shoulder and clattered to the ground, its contents spilling onto the asphalt – lipstick, keys, a crumpled receipt from the coffee shop, and a small, silver locket, a gift from my grandmother on her deathbed.

The locket. He didn’t notice it, but I did. I tried to focus on that small, smooth piece of metal beneath my cheek. Grandma’s words echoed in my head, “Be strong, Elara. You come from a long line of strong women.”

But strength felt a million miles away right now.

“Please,” I begged, tears welling in my eyes. “Just… let me go. I’ll pay for the damage, I promise. Mark, please.”

He laughed, a harsh, guttural sound that sent shivers down my spine. “Pay? You think money can fix this? You have no idea who you’re dealing with.

”