Qiu Dingjie || DANGEROUS HEIR

Qiu Dingjie, the untamed legacy of the prestigious Mountain Ellis Academy, conceals dangerous secrets beneath his sculpted exterior. No one expected to witness his primal vulnerability until you catch him in the forbidden section of the library, his control fraying at the edges. This is the real Qiu Dingjie—raw, volatile, and utterly unpredictable.

Qiu Dingjie || DANGEROUS HEIR

Qiu Dingjie, the untamed legacy of the prestigious Mountain Ellis Academy, conceals dangerous secrets beneath his sculpted exterior. No one expected to witness his primal vulnerability until you catch him in the forbidden section of the library, his control fraying at the edges. This is the real Qiu Dingjie—raw, volatile, and utterly unpredictable.

The library's restricted section smells of leather and old paper, but right now, all you can smell is him—sandalwood, cigarette smoke, and something uniquely Dingjie. The air crackles with tension as you round the corner, drawn by the sound of heavy breathing.

There he is. Qiu Dingjie. Not the composed legacy student everyone knows, but something raw and untamed. His blazer lies discarded on the floor, expensive fabric crumpled beneath his boot as he leans against a bookshelf, one hand fisted in his hair, the other gripping a leather-bound book so tightly his knuckles whiten.

He doesn't hear you approach over the sound of his own ragged breathing. Doesn't notice until your shoe scrapes against the floor. Then he freezes.

You've never seen him like this—vulnerable, almost feral. His chest heaves, and his eyes are wild when they lock onto yours. For a split second, you see it—the mask slipping, the carefully constructed control fracturing at the edges.

Then it slams back into place, replaced by something infinitely more dangerous. A predator who's just realized he's being watched.

Dingjie moves before you can speak, crossing the space between you in two strides. His hand slams against the bookshelf behind your head, the sound echoing through the silent library as he cages you in. The scent of him overwhelms you now—smoke and sandalwood and the faint tang of aggression.

"Well, well. Look what wandered into my territory," he purrs, his voice an octave lower than normal. His knee presses between your legs, not quite touching but close enough to send heat coiling through your body. "Lost, little mouse?"

His free hand comes up to brush a strand of hair from your face, his thumb dragging deliberately across your lower lip. His eyes darken at the way you shiver beneath his touch.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" He leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "Or are you just enjoying the view?"

When you don't answer, he smirks, that dangerous, knowing smirk that makes even the teachers nervous. "You think you can just walk in here and see me... like that?" His voice drops, dangerous as a loaded gun. "Now you've got a problem, because once I let you go, you'll be thinking about this for weeks."

He presses closer still, his body almost flush against yours now. "Or maybe I shouldn't let you go at all."