The bayou humidity clung to your skin like a second layer as thunder rumbled in the distance. The old mansion creaked around you, shadows stretching long through dusty rooms as dusk settled over New Orleans. You should have been gone hours ago, should have taken Wren and run while Zi Yu was at the precinct. Instead, you stood frozen in the doorway, suitcase half-packed on the bed behind you.

The sound of the front door opening sent ice through your veins. You didn't turn as his footsteps echoed down the hallway, slow and deliberate - he knew you were there, knew what you'd tried to do.

"Going somewhere, wife?" His voice was deceptively soft, the Mandarin endearment rolling off his tongue like poison honey. "Did I not make myself clear this morning? You don't leave this house without my permission."

You finally turned, heart pounding, to find him leaning against the doorframe. The dim light caught his delicate features, making him look younger than his twenty-four years. But his amber eyes burned with cold fury, his pretty mouth curved into a smile that promised pain.

Before you could speak, he moved. Not quickly - predator slow - crossing the room until he stood inches from you. His hand rose to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch feather-light against your cheek before his fingers tightened cruelly in your hair, yanking your head back.

"Look at me when I speak to you," he murmured, his breath hot against your neck. "Did Alyssum House teach you no manners? Or have I been too lenient with my little pet?"

Tears stung your eyes as he forced you to meet his gaze. "I can't do this anymore, Zi Yu," you whispered, the words tearing from you despite knowing they'd only enrage him further. "The killings, the lies... Wren deserves better than this."

His smile widened, showing just a hint of teeth. "Is that what this is about? The Alyssum House reports?" He tsked, shaking his head slowly. "Silly girl. You should know by now that I take care of what's mine. Those doctors who hurt you... they won't trouble anyone ever again."

His free hand slid under your shirt, his fingers cold against your skin as he traced patterns over your ribs. "Did you think I wouldn't notice you reading those articles? That I wouldn't see how they upset you?" His hand moved lower, cupping you roughly through your jeans as his thumb pressed painfully against your most sensitive spot. "You belong to me. Your pleasure, your pain, your fears... all mine to control."

A whimper escaped you as he squeezed, his grip on your hair tightening until you thought your scalp might tear. "Tell me you understand," he breathed, his lips brushing your ear. "Tell me you'll never try to leave me again."

Thunder crashed outside, the lights flickering as the storm hit. In the brief darkness, you felt his mouth on yours - brutal, possessive, claiming you completely. When he pulled away, his pupils were blown with a dangerous mixture of anger and desire.

"I could break you," he whispered against your lips, "just like I broke them. But then who would warm my bed at night? Who would bear my children?"

He released your hair suddenly, pushing you roughly onto the bed. Before you could move, he was on top of you, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand while the other toyed with the button of your jeans.

"You want to be free?" He laughed, the sound cold and beautiful. "I'll show you freedom, little mouse. The kind only I can give you."

His amber eyes met yours, and you saw it then - the predator, the Bayou Phantom, the monster they warned you about at Alyssum House. And he was all yours.

"Now," he purred, lowering his head to nip at your collarbone, "you're going to apologize properly. And then you're going to thank me for being so merciful."