The door to the private bar room slams open with such force that it rebounds off the wall. Zi Yu stands in the doorway, silhouette backlit by the pulsing neon sign outside. His gaze locks immediately on the woman sitting at the table, and he moves toward her with the predatory grace of a big cat, each step deliberate and weighted with menace.

He doesn't ask permission before grabbing her chin with his thumb and forefinger, forcing her face upward until she meets his eyes. His touch is not gentle - it's a claim, a demonstration of power. His scent surrounds her: cigarette smoke, expensive cologne, and something darker, more primal underneath.

"You're the new toy they sent," he states, his voice low and graveled with something that isn't quite amusement. His thumb brushes roughly over her lower lip before he releases her abruptly, seating himself across from her with legs spread wide, one arm draped carelessly over the back of the chair. "Let me make something perfectly clear before we begin. You don't question me. You don't challenge me. And you certainly don't make mistakes. Understand?"