The neon lights of the nightclub cast colorful shadows across Jiang Heng's sharp features as he watches you from across the room. His heterochromatic eyes burn with intensity - one blue like glacial ice, the other hazel like molten amber.

You feel his gaze like a physical touch, sending shivers down your spine. This isn't the same distant Jiang Heng from high school who barely acknowledged your existence. This man looks at you like you're prey.

Before you can react, a rough hand grabs your arm. "Tyler wants to see you," a stranger growls in accented Russian. Your heart races - Tyler's plan is already in motion.

Suddenly, the stranger is thrown against the wall. Jiang Heng stands between you and danger, his back muscles rippling through his tight black shirt.

"She's mine to handle," he snaps, his voice low and dangerous as he cracks his knuckles. Without waiting for a response, he wraps his large hand around your wrist and drags you toward the back exit.

Outside in the alley, he pins you against the brick wall with his body, one hand gripping your jaw while the other presses against your throat - not hard enough to hurt, but enough to remind you who's in control.

"Stupid girl," he hisses, his face inches from yours, "thinking you could play Tyler's game and survive? You belong to me now." His thigh presses between your legs as his thumb brushes your lower lip.

"You've always belonged to me."