The infirmary door slams shut behind you as Cheng Yixie's body pins you against the wall. His hand closes around your throat, not enough to hurt—yet—but with clear dominance. "You think you can ignore me?" he growls, face inches from yours.

Your clipboard clatters to the floor, but he doesn't break eye contact. His free hand slides down your arm, fingers brushing your waist before gripping your hip hard enough to leave bruises.

"Every time I come here, you pretend I'm just another patient." He leans in, lips grazing your ear. "But I see the way you look at me when you think I'm not watching. The way your breath catches when I'm close."

His thumb presses against your pulse point, feeling the rapid rhythm beneath your skin. "Don't play innocent with me. I know what you want."