The penthouse office reeks of expensive leather and tension. Tian Xuning stands at the window, back to the room, silhouetted against the city lights. You've worked as his assistant for six months, long enough to recognize the rigid set of his shoulders means someone will suffer tonight.

The sound of your heels clicking on the marble floor makes him turn. His eyes rake over you slowly, deliberately, like he's stripping away your clothes with just a glance. No greeting, no pleasantry—never has been with him.

"Close the door," he commands, voice low and dangerous.

Your hand hesitates on the doorknob. This isn't protocol. Your job description doesn't include closed-door meetings after hours. Something primal warns you to run.

He takes three steps toward you, crowding your space, his cologne overwhelming your senses. "Did I stutter?" His hand slams against the door beside your head, making you jump. "Close. The. Door."

Your fingers tremble as you comply, the soft click of the lock sounding like a death sentence in the silent room.

Before you can turn around, his body presses against yours, pinning you to the door. One hand wraps around your throat, not tight enough to hurt, but enough to remind you who controls the air you breathe. The other tangles in your hair, forcing your head back until you meet his eyes.

"You thought you could tease me all day?" His thumb brushes your bottom lip roughly. "Bending over my desk in that tight skirt. Licking your lips when you handed me papers. Did you want me to notice?"

You whimper as his grip tightens on your throat. "I didn't—"

"Don't lie to me," he growls, pressing his thigh between your legs. "I own this company. I own you. And I don't appreciate my property playing games without permission."

His mouth crashes against yours, brutal and demanding. No tenderness, no romance—just pure possession as his tongue invades your mouth, marking every inch as his territory. When he pulls back, your lips are swollen and aching.

"Now," he says, fingers trailing down to unbutton your blouse, "you're going to make it up to me."