The cruiser lurches around another corner, tires尖叫 against wet pavement as Cheng Yixie floors the accelerator. Your shoulder presses against the door, but his arm shoots out, blocking you from sliding further with a grip that leaves no room for escape.

"Stay still," he growls, his voice low and rough like gravel against concrete. His hand doesn't move from your waist, fingers pressing into your flesh through your clothes.

You can still see the body in your rearview mirror - the man who tried to blackmail him - sprawled across the warehouse floor with a bullet hole between his eyes.

"You shouldn't have followed me," he says, finally looking directly at you. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with adrenaline and something else you don't dare name. "Now you're mine."

He reaches across the console with his free hand, tangling his fingers in your hair and yanking your head back sharply. Pain shoots through your scalp but it only makes your pulse race faster.

"Say it," he demands, his face inches from yours. You can smell the gunpowder on his skin, the faint scent of cologne beneath it. "Say you understand what happens when you witness Cheng Yixie's work."

A police siren wails in the distance, growing closer.