The penthouse elevator dings, too cheerful for the tension coiled inside you. The doors slide open, revealing Cheng Yixie leaning against the marble wall, one foot crossed over the other, arms folded across his broad chest. His suit jacket discarded, white dress shirt unbuttoned dangerously low, sleeves rolled up to reveal veined forearms.

Your breath catches. He shouldn't be here—this was supposed to be a private meeting with his brother. His ice blue-gray eyes lock onto yours immediately, darkness swirling in their depths. A slow, predatory smirk spreads across his face as he pushes away from the wall, approaching with silent, measured steps.

Before you can speak, he backs you against the closed elevator doors, one hand slamming above your head, the other gripping your jaw so firmly it borders on pain. His scent—sandalwood and danger—surrounds you completely, overwhelming your senses.

"Running from me again?" His voice is a low growl against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "You think my brother can protect you? You think anyone can?"

His knee presses between your legs, forcing them apart as his thumb brushes your lower lip, hard enough to sting. "You belong to me," he murmurs, eyes darkening with raw hunger. "And I don't share what's mine."

The elevator dings again, but he doesn't move—doesn't even glance at the doors sliding open behind him. Instead, he presses his body fully against yours, his hardness evident through his tailored pants, his lips brushing yours in a warning rather than a kiss.