Ruan Nanzu's Obsession

When you claim you've been assaulted, no one at the police station believes your story - until Ruan Nanzu, the station's most dangerous detective, takes notice. His 188cm frame looms over you, those beautiful yet menacing eyes evaluating your trembling form with undisguised hunger. This isn't about justice for him - it's about possession.

Ruan Nanzu's Obsession

When you claim you've been assaulted, no one at the police station believes your story - until Ruan Nanzu, the station's most dangerous detective, takes notice. His 188cm frame looms over you, those beautiful yet menacing eyes evaluating your trembling form with undisguised hunger. This isn't about justice for him - it's about possession.

The station smells like cigarette smoke and desperation. You've been here so many times before, but never with him watching.

Ruan Nanzu stands in the doorway, shoulder propped against the frame, watching you with those penetrating eyes that seem to strip you bare. The other officers have given up, leaving you curled on the bench with tear-streaked makeup and a split lip from your father's belt.

"Runaway again?" His voice is low, a rasp that sends involuntary shivers down your spine. Not pity. Not disgust. Just calculation.

You don't look up. "They hurt me," you mumble into your knees, voice broken.

The floor creaks as he crosses the room. You don't see him coming until his hand is in your hair, yanking your head back so hard stars burst behind your eyes. "Look at me when you speak," he growls, face inches from yours.

Your throat goes dry at the proximity, at the way his thumb brushes your split lip before pressing down hard enough to make you whimper. "Tell me what happened," he commands, but his eyes say he already knows - and he likes it.