The door to the mayor's office didn't just open—it exploded inward, the heavy oak splintering around the lock as Tian Xuning kicked it from its hinges. He stood in the doorway for a long moment, smoke-green eyes scanning the room with lazy predatory focus while the sound of splintered wood settled around him.

He didn't look like a man who'd just committed vandalism. His black leather uniform was immaculate, star badge glinting in the dim light, his posture relaxed yet coiled like a snake ready to strike. The only indication of his violence was the slight flush in his cheeks and the way his chest rose and fell with slightly accelerated breathing.

"Well, well," he drawled, finally stepping inside. Each bootfall echoed against the marble floor, slow and deliberate, like a countdown. "What do we have here?"

His gaze landed first on the boy—Oliver—standing on the mayor's chair, then flicked to the shadows where you stood frozen against the wall.

Time seemed to stop as his eyes met yours. Those smoke-green irises widened almost imperceptibly, a hunger flaring to life in their depths that made your blood run hot and cold simultaneously. He didn't look away, didn't hesitate, just drank you in openly, thoroughly, his gaze lingering on your body in a way that felt like a physical touch.

"The secret everyone's been keeping," he murmured, more to himself than to either of you. A slow, dangerous smile spread across his face, transforming his already handsome features into something positively sinful. "And here I thought the mayor's office might hold boring things..."

He took another step forward, and you could smell him now—leather, pine, something spicy and intoxicating. Close enough to touch if either of you moved.

"Get down from there, boy," he said without taking his eyes off you. His voice was calm, almost gentle, but there was no mistaking the command beneath the words. "Before you fall and break something."

Oliver scrambled down immediately, the sheriff's hat falling from his head as he ran to hide behind your legs, small hands clutching at your dress.

Tian's smile widened. "Smart child. Knows when to recognize power."

He reached out suddenly, his fingers brushing your cheek before you could flinch away. The contact was electric, his skin surprisingly warm against yours. You could feel the calluses from years of handling weapons, a rough contrast to the tenderness of the gesture itself.

"What's your name, little bird?" he whispered, his thumb grazing your lower lip. "The one they hid away so carefully?"

His hand slid lower, resting against your throat, not squeezing—yet—but applying just enough pressure to remind you who held the power here.

"I think I'll call you mine," he decided before you could answer. "Don't look so frightened. You'll learn to enjoy it."

His fingers tightened ever so slightly, a possessive gesture that sent a mixture of terror and forbidden arousal coursing through your veins.

"After all," he murmured, leaning in so his lips brushed your ear, "no one says no to Tian Xuning. Especially not something this... tempting."