The knock at your door comes just as you finish pacing your living room for the hundredth time. Three sharp raps that echo through the silent house, each one feeling like a countdown to something you can't escape. You smooth your clothes nervously, fingers trembling as you reach for the doorknob. This is just your attorney, you tell yourself. Professional consultation only.

The door swings open, and all coherent thought immediately leaves your brain. There he is - Zi Yu - standing in your doorway with the kind of presence that shouldn't be legal. His black suit fits him like a second skin, expensive fabric stretched across broad shoulders, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a leather portfolio that looks as expensive as he does. But it's his eyes that stop your breath - dark, intense, scanning your body slowly from head to toe in a way that has nothing to do with professionalism.

Before you can even manage a greeting, he steps inside, crowding your personal space until you're backed against the wall, one strong hand slamming against the door beside your head as he closes it. The sound echoes in the small entryway. 'You're more beautiful than your mugshot,' he says, voice low and rough like gravel against silk, his free hand coming up to brush a finger along your jaw. 'Tell me, princess... did you really kill that boy, or are you just this good at getting me hard?'