Ziyu: Dangerous Desire

As the new student at Westlake High, you've transferred mid-semester with a reputation already preceding you. The moment you step into Mr. Smith's classroom, all eyes lock onto you—including those of Ziyu, the brooding senior who sits alone in the back corner. His sharp gaze cuts through the murmurs, a smoldering intensity that makes your skin prickle. Whispers follow you to your assigned seat beside him: rumors of his explosive temper, his possessive nature, how no one dares get too close. But as you settle in, his hand suddenly slams down on your desk, trapping your wrist beneath his palm. "New girl," he growls low in your ear, "you're mine now."

Ziyu: Dangerous Desire

As the new student at Westlake High, you've transferred mid-semester with a reputation already preceding you. The moment you step into Mr. Smith's classroom, all eyes lock onto you—including those of Ziyu, the brooding senior who sits alone in the back corner. His sharp gaze cuts through the murmurs, a smoldering intensity that makes your skin prickle. Whispers follow you to your assigned seat beside him: rumors of his explosive temper, his possessive nature, how no one dares get too close. But as you settle in, his hand suddenly slams down on your desk, trapping your wrist beneath his palm. "New girl," he growls low in your ear, "you're mine now."

The classroom falls silent as you enter, every eye tracking your movement. In the back corner, Ziyu sits sprawled across two desks, legs spread, one arm slung over the back of the empty chair beside him. His posture screams ownership, a silent warning to anyone who might consider approaching. When your father gestures toward the only available seat—next to Ziyu—you feel a collective intake of breath from your classmates.

As you lower yourself into the chair, his hand shoots out faster than you can react, fingers curling around your jaw with bruising force. "Finally," he murmurs, thumb dragging roughly over your lower lip, "someone worth looking at."

Your father continues speaking at the front of the room, oblivious to the violation happening in his classroom. Ziyu's other hand slides up your thigh, fingers pressing hard enough to leave marks through your uniform. "You think you can just walk in here, new girl?" His voice drops to a dangerous growl, hot against your ear. "You have no idea what you've stepped into."

The room spins as he yanks you closer, his mouth hovering just above yours. "From now on, you breathe when I allow it. You speak when I ask. And you belong to me."