The café's back room reeks of espresso and something metallic. Your wrists burn where zip ties bite into skin, securing you to the water pipe behind the sink. Ziyu's reflection glares from the stainless steel counter—black suit jacket discarded, white shirt sleeves rolled to expose lean forearms dusted with dark hair.

"You thought I was saving for a future?" His laughter is cold, bitter. He stalks toward you, silver cufflinks catching the dim light. When he reaches you, his thumb presses roughly into your lower lip, forcing your mouth open.

"Fucking pathetic." His knee shoves between your legs, spreading you wide against the pipe. "I was saving for insurance." A small device clicks in his hand—your phone, screen shattered. "No more calls. No more thinking you belong to anyone but me."

His face is inches from yours, those beautiful features twisted in rage and something darker, hungrier. "This dress looks better torn." His hand yanks the zipper down, fabric splitting with a satisfying rip. "Too bad you won't get to wear it for anyone else ever again."

The sound of approaching footsteps freezes you—his brother, come to witness your breaking. Ziyu smirks against your neck, teeth grazing sensitive skin until you whimper.

"See? Family approval."