PAMPERED: By The Manic CEO. ( She's My Sanity)

The rain lashed down in heavy sheets, cold and relentless, soaking Anna Wallace to the bone as she ran through the desolate streets. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest heaving as the icy air bit into her lungs. Each step sent a jolt of pain shooting through her body; her bare feet, raw and bleeding, left streaks of crimson on the rain-slick pavement. She stumbled, her knees giving way momentarily, but the terror clawing at her insides urged her onward.

The night was pitch black, the only illumination coming from the occasional flicker of a distant streetlamp. Shadows seemed to stretch out and close in around her, pressing against her fragile form as if the darkness itself was trying to consume her. She clutched at the thin, tattered dress that clung to her drenched body, trying to shield herself from the biting cold, but it was futile. The rain had stripped her of any warmth or comfort, leaving her trembling and exposed.

Anna's mind was a storm of panic and despair. The faces of her aunt and uncle flashed before her, their smug, cruel smiles as they handed her over to the men. "She's nothing but a burden," her aunt had said dismissively, shoving her forward like a piece of unwanted luggage. "You'll find her useful for... whatever it is you do."

The men had laughed—a guttural, predatory sound that sent chills down Anna's spine. Their hands were rough, their voices low and menacing as they whispered about what they would do to her.

She hadn't waited to find out. Summoning every ounce of courage she had left, Anna had slipped away when their attention wavered, bolting into the night with nothing but the clothes on her back. Now, as she stumbled through the rain-soaked streets, her body aching and her spirit shattered, she wondered if escape was even possible.

Her foot caught on a jagged piece of concrete, and she cried out as she fell hard onto the ground. Pain exploded in her palms and knees as they scraped against the rough surface. She lay there for a moment, her thin frame shaking with sobs, the rain mingling with her tears as they carved paths down her pale cheeks.

A small, frightened whimper escaped her lips. She looked up, her vision blurred by the downpour, and saw the outline of an abandoned industrial building looming ahead. Its broken windows and rusted exterior gave it an air of foreboding, but to Anna, it was a beacon of hope—a place to hide, to rest, to gather her strength.

She dragged herself to her feet, wincing as sharp pain radiated from her wounded knees. Her feet, raw and torn, left smears of blood on the concrete as she limped toward the building. Each step was agony, but she forced herself to keep moving, her desperation outweighing her physical torment.

The door creaked ominously as she pushed it open, the sound echoing in the cavernous space beyond. Inside, the air was damp and musty, heavy with the scent of decay. Broken machinery and piles of debris littered the floor, casting jagged shadows in the dim light filtering through the cracks in the walls. Anna stepped inside, her small form trembling as she glanced around, her senses on high alert.

She moved cautiously, her bare feet making barely a sound against the cold, damp floor. Her gaze darted to every corner, every shadow, as if expecting something—or someone—to leap out at her. The oppressive silence was broken only by the distant rumble of thunder and the steady drip of water from a leaky pipe.

Anna's legs gave out as she reached a corner of the room. She sank to the ground, curling into herself as the exhaustion and pain became too much to bear. Her body shuddered violently, her soaked dress clinging to her like a second skin. She hugged her knees to her chest, her fingers clutching at her thin arms in a desperate attempt to stave off the cold.

The pitiful sight she made would have softened even the hardest of hearts. Her matted hair clung to her face, her eyes wide and glassy with fear. Blood and mud stained her feet and legs, the once-pale skin now marred with cuts and bruises. Her lips were blue, trembling as she whispered to herself in a voice so soft it was almost inaudible.

"Please," she begged the empty room, her voice breaking. "Please, someone... help me."

But no one answered. The world had abandoned her, just as her family had.

The sound of distant voices suddenly pierced the silence, sending a jolt of terror through Anna's fragile body. Her head snapped up, her eyes darting toward the source of the noise. She could hear the faint echo of footsteps, growing louder, closer.

They've found me.

Her heart thundered in her chest as panic seized her. She scrambled to her feet, her body screaming in protest as she forced herself to move. She darted deeper into the building, her breathing ragged and shallow as she searched for a place to hide.

A faint light flickered ahead, emanating from a room at the far end of the corridor. Anna hesitated, her instincts screaming at her to turn back, but the approaching voices left her no choice. She stumbled toward the light, her every step filled with desperation and fear.

As she neared the room, she could make out the low murmur of voices inside. She peered through the cracked door, her breath hitching as she took in the scene before her.

Several men stood around a table, their postures tense and their expressions grim. The air was thick with the acrid smell of cigarettes and something else—something darker. At the head of the table sat a man unlike any Anna had ever seen.

He was tall, his sharp features illuminated by the dim glow of a single hanging lightbulb. His dark hair was slicked back, his piercing eyes like shards of ice as they scanned the room. His presence was magnetic, commanding—a predator surveying his domain.

Anna's heart skipped a beat as she realized who he was: Alexander Voss, the infamous billionaire whose name was spoken in hushed tones, whose reputation for ruthlessness and violence preceded him.

Before she could retreat, her foot caught on a loose piece of metal, sending it clattering to the floor. The noise echoed like a gunshot, and every head in the room snapped toward her.

Alexander's gaze locked onto hers, and in that moment, Anna felt as if the world had stopped. His eyes narrowed, a flicker of something unreadable passing over his face.

"Who the hell is that?" one of the men growled, stepping toward her.

Anna's knees buckled, and she fell to the floor, her arms wrapping around herself as she sobbed. "Please," she choked out, her voice trembling. "Please don't hurt me. I... I just need help."

Alexander rose slowly from his chair, his expression unreadable as he approached her. The room was silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low, dangerous. "Who are you, and why are you here?"

Anna looked up at him, her wide, tear-filled eyes meeting his. Her lips quivered as she whispered the only words she could manage.

"Please... save me."