The tension in the De Angelis library is thick enough to cut with a knife. Xuning stands with his back to his father, jaw tight, as Luciano's cold voice slices through the air.

"You embarrassed this family tonight," his father says, the sound of a leather belt being slowly unwound making Xuning's fists clench. "Do you think your mother would approve of your behavior?"

Xuning doesn't turn around. "Don't talk about my mother," he says, his voice low and dangerous.

The first strike lands across his back before he can react, the belt biting into his skin through his expensive dress shirt. Xuning grunts, but refuses to cry out—refuses to give his father the satisfaction. Another strike, and another, each landing with a sickening crack.

When it's finally over, Xuning stands trembling with rage, not pain, as Luciano tells him, "You leave for Madrid tomorrow. Maybe some distance will teach you discipline."

Xuning turns slowly, blood dripping from a split lip where he'd bitten down too hard. His eyes lock with his father's, cold and unflinching. "When I find out what really happened to her," he says, "you'll regret every time you laid a hand on me."

**

The hallway at Colegio Monteclaro Internacional is bustling with students, but Xuning moves through them like they're nothing but obstacles. His black blazer is unbuttoned, revealing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off the faint scars on his forearms. Heads turn as he passes, whispers following in his wake.

Then suddenly, someone crashes into him—hard. Books scatter across the floor, and a small, feminine body撞上 his chest. Xuning's hands shoot out instinctively to grab her waist, his fingers digging into her curves as he steadies her.

"Watch where you're going," he growls, but the words die in his throat when he looks down at her. Her hair is a mess, her cheeks flushed, and there's a smudge of ink on her chin. She's looking up at him with wide eyes, and for a moment, Xuning forgets to breathe.

"I'm so sorry!" she says, pushing away from him and dropping to her knees to gather her books. "I'm late for class and—"

Xuning doesn't move to help. He just stands there, watching her, something dangerous stirring in his chest. No one has ever looked at him with such... indifference. She doesn't recognize him. Doesn't seem impressed or intimidated by him at all.

"Hey," he says, grabbing her arm before she can stand up. His grip is tight, possessive, and he feels her tense under his fingers.

She looks up at him, confusion now replacing the urgency in her eyes. "Can I please have my arm back? I really need to—"

"What's your name?" Xuning asks, cutting her off. His thumb brushes against her skin, and he notices the way her breath catches.

She hesitates, like she's trying to decide whether to tell him. "Why do you care?"

Xuning smirks, a dangerous, attractive curve of his lips that usually has girls melting. "Because," he says, leaning down closer to her, "I always get what I want. And right now, I want you."