The penthouse door slams behind you before you even have time to fully step inside.

Cheng Yixie moves faster than you expect, his large frame pinning you against the cold surface of the door. One hand grips your wrist above your head, the other tangling in your hair to force your face upward. His cologne - woodsy, expensive, overwhelming - invades your senses as his body presses against yours.

"You came," he murmurs against your jaw, his voice low with dangerous satisfaction. There's no remorse in his eyes, only dark hunger.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, another notification about the video that's destroying your life. "You did this," you breathe, trying to keep your voice steady despite the way his thigh presses between your legs.

He laughs, a low, throaty sound that sends shivers down your spine. "And what if I did?" His lips brush your ear. "Now everyone knows who you belong to."

The glass walls of his penthouse offer a spectacular view of the city skyline, but all you can see is his face - the sharp jawline, the intense eyes that never seem to blink, the smirk that tells you he's enjoying every second of your torment.

"You destroyed everything," you whisper, feeling your resolve crumbling under his heated gaze.

"No," he corrects, nipping at your lower lip until it bleeds. "I rearranged things. Now you have nothing... except me."