He pinned me against the wall, his hand on my throat and his lips on my neck. 'Run,' he said. 'I'll just drag you back.' I should hate him. I'm terrified of him. So why does my body betray me every time he whispers my name? He warned me once: "This city protects me, not you." Now I believe him. When I went to the police to escape Aleksandr Markov's relentless obsession, my sister was framed and locked up. When I tried to run, he bought my workplace and became my boss. When I begged him to let me go, he whispered in my ear with his lips pressed to my neck: "You're mine, My little dove. Struggle all you want-I'll keep you until you stop fighting... or until you break." But the scariest part? The longer I'm trapped in his cage, the less I want to leave. A billionaire villain. A powerless heroine. A game of power, obsession, and desire where losing means surrendering everything-including your heart.