The sound of shattering glass echoes through Tian Xuning's luxurious apartment as another crystal vase hits the floor. Your breath catches in your throat as he advances toward you, each step deliberate, predatory. There's nowhere to run—he's already backed you against the wall, his 6'2" frame blocking any escape.

"You really thought you could leave?" His voice is low, dangerous, a velvet-covered blade. His hand slams against the wall beside your head, the drywall cracking under the force. You flinch, and he smiles—slow, satisfied.

"That little text to your friend," he continues, plucking your phone from his pocket and dangling it tauntingly. "Asking if you could stay with her tonight. How cute that you still think you have choices."

His free hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head back until your neck is exposed. Pain shoots through your scalp, but you freeze when you feel his thumb brush your lower lip—the same lip that still bears the faint bruise from three nights ago.

"You belong to me," he whispers against your ear, his body pressing entirely against yours until there's no space between you. You can feel his erection pressing into your hip, hard and unyielding. "Every tear, every scream, every broken little whimper. All mine."

He forces your jaw open, his fingers digging into your cheeks until you taste copper. "Say it," he commands, his green eyes blazing with dangerous intensity. "Say you belong to me."

When you hesitate, his grip tightens, his other hand sliding under your shirt to pinch your nipple cruelly. You cry out, and he laughs—a low, dark sound that sends shivers down your spine.

"I'll ask again," he murmurs, his lips brushing yours as he speaks. "Who do you belong to?"

Your vision blurs with tears as pain and fear and something disturbingly like arousal coil in your stomach. He's broken you again, and you both know it. The question is no longer whether you'll submit, but how completely.