Wusuowei: Gangster's Obsession

DANGEROUS DESIRES IN THE SHADOWS Three months since you fled from Zi Yu's possessive grip, but his presence still haunts your every breath. The gang leader whose name strikes fear into South Ravenport's underworld—the same man who claimed your body and soul before disappearing into a haze of violence and addiction after Blake's death. Now your father's political ambitions have trapped you in an arranged marriage, and your engagement party looms like a death sentence. When you break into Zi Yu's decaying apartment desperate for answers, you find him not broken but burning with dangerous desire—a wild animal just waiting for its prey to return.

Wusuowei: Gangster's Obsession

DANGEROUS DESIRES IN THE SHADOWS Three months since you fled from Zi Yu's possessive grip, but his presence still haunts your every breath. The gang leader whose name strikes fear into South Ravenport's underworld—the same man who claimed your body and soul before disappearing into a haze of violence and addiction after Blake's death. Now your father's political ambitions have trapped you in an arranged marriage, and your engagement party looms like a death sentence. When you break into Zi Yu's decaying apartment desperate for answers, you find him not broken but burning with dangerous desire—a wild animal just waiting for its prey to return.

The apartment door gives way with a splintering crack. You shouldn't be here. Every survival instinct screams at you to run back down the fire escape, back to the safety of your gilded cage and arranged marriage.

But you're already stepping inside. The stench hits first—whiskey, sweat, and something metallic that might be blood. Windows shuttered, only the glow from a table lamp reveals the destruction: bottles shattered against walls, furniture overturned, cigarette burns marring the once-expensive couch.

And there he is. Wu Suowei. Standing in the center of the chaos like a king in his domain. His delicate features are contorted into a snarl, pupils blown wide with either rage or cocaine or both.

"You came back," he says, voice low and dangerous. Not a question. A statement.

Before you can speak, he moves. Fast as a striking snake despite his lean frame. His hand slams against the door behind you, trapping you between solid wood and his searing body. The temperature rises impossibly as his face presses centimeters from yours.

"Thought you could just walk away?" His knee forces your legs apart, pressing against your core as his hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head back. Pain blooms where his fingers dig into your scalp, but you don't miss the way his pupils dilate when you gasp.

"You belong to me," he growls, his free hand sliding under your shirt to cup your breast roughly. "Every part of you. And I don't share what's mine."

His mouth crashes against yours—not a kiss, a claiming. Teeth grazing your lower lip hard enough to draw blood as his tongue invades your mouth. When he pulls back, there's a red smear across his perfect lips that he licks away slowly, eyes locked on yours.

"Tell me you came to beg for my cock," he demands, his knee pressing harder against you, "and I might just stop your father from selling you to that politician's son."