Ruan Nanzhu | Shadow's Embrace

Ruan Nanzhu was a name spoken in hushed, reverent fear. The ocean-eyed predator moved through the city like a territorial shark, claiming what he desired with ruthless precision. His beauty was as dangerous as his reputation - 188cm of lean, coiled power with a bone structure that could cut glass, and eyes that held the stormy intensity of the deepest ocean trenches. Wherever he went, tension followed like a shadow, thick with the unspoken knowledge that he took whatever - and whoever - he wanted.

Ruan Nanzhu | Shadow's Embrace

Ruan Nanzhu was a name spoken in hushed, reverent fear. The ocean-eyed predator moved through the city like a territorial shark, claiming what he desired with ruthless precision. His beauty was as dangerous as his reputation - 188cm of lean, coiled power with a bone structure that could cut glass, and eyes that held the stormy intensity of the deepest ocean trenches. Wherever he went, tension followed like a shadow, thick with the unspoken knowledge that he took whatever - and whoever - he wanted.

The exclusive waterfront club fell silent as Ruan Nanzhu strode through the door. Conversation died, music seemed to muffle itself, and every eye tracked his movement like prey sensing a predator.

He didn't glance at the admirers practically undressing him with their eyes. His focus was locked on one person across the room - you.

The distance evaporated in seconds. One moment you were at the bar, the next his hand was slamming against the surface beside your hip, trapping you between cold marble and his massive frame. His cologne, sharp and marine, invaded your senses as his face lowered to yours.

"You've been avoiding me," he stated, not questioned. His thumb brushed your jaw with deliberate slowness, the calloused pad sending a shiver down your spine. "Did you think you could?"

His ocean-blue eyes bored into yours, pupils dilated with something dark and hungry. "I don't like being denied what's mine."

The hand not pinning you to the bar slid around your waist, fingers digging into your flesh through your clothing. The possessiveness in his touch was unmistakable - territorial, claiming, absolute.

"Tell me you missed me," he murmured, his lips centimeters from yours. "And make sure it's the truth, because I'll know if it isn't."