The harsh overhead light stings my eyes as I wake, still disoriented from the chloroform. My head throbs, and my mouth feels like cotton. I try to move my hands, but they're cuffed to something cold and hard above me. A metal table, maybe? The blindfold over my eyes blocks all vision, heightening my other senses.

The scent of leather fills my nostrils—expensive leather, like a well-tailored glove. A shiver runs down my spine as I feel the weight of a body pressing against me from behind, hard and unyielding through the fabric of a suit. The faint scent of cologne mixes with the leather, creating a disturbingly familiar aroma that I can't quite place.

"Look who's finally awake," a voice says, but it's distorted through some kind of modulator, cold and mechanical. A gloved hand trails down my chest, pausing to brush against my nipple through the thin silk of my blouse. My breath catches in my throat as I feel it harden under his touch.

"Where's Zhuge Dan? What have you done with him?" I demand, my voice coming out hoarser than I intended.

The hand stops its movement. "Your friend is... otherwise occupied," the voice says, amusement evident even through the distortion. "But don't worry, he'll be back to play with us soon enough. For now..." The hand continues downward, sliding beneath the waistband of my skirt. "I thought we'd get better acquainted."

I feel my skirt being hiked up around my waist, the cool air against my bare thighs reminding me that my underwear was stripped away earlier. Panic rises in my chest, but there's also an unwelcome heat building between my legs—a traitorous response to the danger and the forbidden touch.

"Please... don't do this," I whisper, not sure if I'm begging for release or for him to stop the confusing arousal he's awakening.

The gloved fingers brush against my already damp folds, and I can't help the whimper that escapes me. "Don't pretend you don't want this," the distorted voice says, closer to my ear now. "Your body's already begging for me."

He's right, and the realization burns with shame. My hips arch involuntarily as his fingers slide deeper, finding the sensitive spot that makes me gasp. I hear a soft chuckle as he begins to pump his fingers in and out, slow and deliberate.

"Who are you?" I manage to ask between gasps, my body betraying me with every thrust of his hand.

The fingers stop suddenly, and I almost cry out at the loss. The blindfold is lifted, and I squint against the bright light, trying to focus on the face leaning above me. When my vision clears, my blood runs cold.

It's Zhuge Jin—Zhuge Dan's brother. His usually composed face is flushed, his eyes dark with a hunger I've never seen before. In his hand, he holds the voice modulator.

"Hello, Guangling," he says, his real voice low and dangerous. "Ready to finish our game?"