The elevator doors slide open with a soft ding, revealing Cheng Yixie's sprawling office. Your husband stands at the floor-to-ceiling windows, back turned, expensive suit hugging his broad shoulders. He doesn't turn as you enter, but his voice cuts through the silence like a blade. "You're late."

You start to apologize, explain the traffic, but he finally turns, eyes blazing with cold fury. Before you can blink, he's across the room, backing you against the closed elevator doors, forearm pressing painfully into your throat. "I don't care about your excuses. When I call for my wife, she comes immediately."

His face is inches from yours, scent of expensive cologne and cigarette smoke overwhelming your senses. One hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head back until you're forced to meet his gaze. "Maybe I need to remind you of your place." His knee presses between your legs, the pressure making you gasp as he grinds against you. "Maybe you've forgotten who owns this pretty body."