Under His Control

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Mick woke up with a pounding headache and a sense of dread gnawing at his stomach. His eyes blinked open to the dim morning light filtering through the curtains. He rubbed his temples, trying to shake off the anxiety clinging to him. Only three days left until the exam, and he wasn’t prepared. Not even close.

His mind raced as he thought about the importance of passing. If he failed, not only would his father’s reputation suffer, but Mick’s own future would be on the line. He’d been the best student for as long as he could remember, but now everything felt so out of reach. With Rhyle constantly distracting him and the pressure from his father weighing him down, it was getting harder to focus.

"I can't afford to go to university today. I need to study at home," Mick mumbled to himself, hoping a day of uninterrupted focus would help.

As Mick sat down at his desk with his study materials spread out before him, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, feeling a knot form in his stomach. It was Rhyle again.

Rhyle: Good morning, little rabbit. I hope you’re ready for your next task.

Mick gritted his teeth, frustration bubbling inside him. He clenched the phone in his hand, trying to fight back the urge to scream. "I can't deal with this right now," he muttered. He needed to ignore Rhyle, at least until the exam was over.

Rhyle: Don’t ignore me, Mick. You know what happens if you do.

Mick threw his phone onto the bed, refusing to respond. "I'm done letting him control me," he whispered to himself. But even as he tried to focus on his notes, his mind kept wandering back to Rhyle’s messages, and his heart wouldn’t stop racing.

The day passed in a haze of unfocused studying. Every time Mick thought he could focus, his phone would buzz again, reminding him of Rhyle’s looming presence. He couldn’t escape it, but he did his best to ignore the messages. He had to.

Meanwhile, in another part of the city, Rhyle was pacing his office. His patience was wearing thin, and his ego was starting to bruise. Mick had been ignoring him for hours now, and Rhyle was not the kind of man who tolerated being disregarded. His blood simmered with frustration as he tossed his phone onto his desk, glaring at the screen.

“Who does he think he is?” Rhyle muttered under his breath. “He’ll learn soon enough that no one ignores me.”

As the evening approached, Rhyle’s anger escalated. He was determined to teach Mick a lesson he wouldn’t forget.

---

The next morning, Mick woke up to the sound of his phone ringing. Groggily, he reached for it, still half-asleep, and answered without checking who was calling.

“Hello?” he mumbled, his voice hoarse.

“Get outside,” came a cold, familiar voice on the other end.

Mick's eyes snapped open, his heart skipping a beat. It was Rhyle.

“What?” Mick asked, his voice suddenly clear and filled with panic.

“I’m outside your house. You’ve got five minutes. Don’t keep me waiting.”

Mick sat up in bed, his pulse racing. "What the hell is he doing here?" he thought as fear gripped him. He jumped out of bed, hurriedly throwing on some clothes, all while his mind raced. He had to think of something — anything to stall him.

Minutes later, Mick rushed down to the parking lot, barely able to contain his panic. He scanned the area and soon spotted Rhyle’s sleek black car parked ominously in the lot. Rhyle stood beside it, arms crossed, a dark smirk playing on his lips.

Mick stormed over, fury bubbling to the surface. “What the hell are you doing here?!” he yelled, unable to contain his anger any longer. “Do you even understand how dangerous this is? Why would you come to my house?”

Rhyle didn’t flinch. Instead, his expression darkened, and he took a step closer. “You think you can just ignore me like that? Do you really think you’re in control here, Mick?”

“I’m not your puppet!” Mick shot back, his voice shaky but defiant. “I’m done with your stupid games. I’ve got my own life to deal with, so leave me alone!”

Rhyle’s smirk vanished, replaced by a dangerous glare. Without warning, he pulled out a sleek black gun from his jacket and pressed it under Mick’s chin. Mick froze, his breath hitching as cold fear washed over him. His heart thundered in his chest, and his knees felt weak.

“W-what are you doing?” Mick stammered, trying to keep the tremble out of his voice. But he flinched as Rhyle pressed the barrel harder against his skin, pinning him against the wall.

“Let me make one thing clear, little rabbit,” Rhyle whispered menacingly, his face inches from Mick’s. “I am not someone you can ignore. You should be terrified of me because I’m capable of things you can’t even imagine.”

Mick's breath quickened, and his hands shook as he pressed them against Rhyle’s chest, trying to push him away. “You… you’re insane,” Mick whispered, his voice barely audible, his body trembling in fear.

Rhyle leaned even closer, his lips brushing Mick’s ear as he whispered, “Get in the car. Now.”

Mick’s defiance flared up again. “No,” he spat, trying to shove Rhyle away.

Rhyle's eyes narrowed in a dangerous flash, and without another word, he grabbed Mick’s wrist and yanked him toward the car. “You really want to disobey me? Fine. I’ll drag you there myself.”

Mick struggled, but Rhyle’s grip was too strong. He was forced into the car, his mind spinning as fear and anger warred within him.

Rhyle slammed the door shut and got into the driver's seat, his expression cold and unreadable. “I’ve been patient with you,” Rhyle said as he started the engine, his voice eerily calm. “But patience has its limits. And if you don’t start obeying me, I’ll make sure everyone sees what happened that night. Your father included.”

Mick’s heart sank as the threat hit him full force. He clenched his fists, biting back the urge to scream. He had no choice but to comply — for now.

Rhyle glanced at him as the car pulled away from the parking lot, his voice low and menacing. “You belong to me, Mick. And you better start acting like it.”

---

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