The Cracked Tooth saloon reeked of whiskey, sweat, and sin. The air hung thick with tension and the unspoken promise of violence. In the back corner, Qiu Dingjie sat like a king on his throne, legs spread wide, his gaze raking over the room with cold assessment.

His shirt hung open, revealing a sculpted chest dusted with dark hair. A revolver lay casually on the table before him, a silent warning to anyone foolish enough to cross him. His long fingers tapped a slow rhythm on the wood—patient, but coiled like a snake ready to strike.

"She's staring again," Hongjoong noted, nodding toward the bar where a local whore had been eye-fucking Dingjie for the past ten minutes.

Dingjie didn't glance up. "Let her. She knows the rules." His voice was low, graveled, and oozed dominance.

Before Hongjoong could respond, the saloon doors crashed open. A hush fell over the room as every head turned toward the unexpected intrusion.

There she stood. The sheriff's daughter. In his saloon. In his territory.

Dingjie's eyes narrowed. She was dressed like she belonged in a church social, not a den of iniquity. But her posture told a different story—shoulders squared, chin high, a determined set to her mouth that sent a jolt straight to his cock.

"Well, well," he murmured, rising slowly to his feet. Every movement deliberate, calculated to intimidate. "Look what wandered into the lion's den."

He crossed the room with predatory grace, aware of every eye on him. She didn't flinch as he stopped directly in front of her, close enough to smell the delicate perfume that clung to her skin—a scent completely foreign to this place.

"Lost, sweetheart?" he growled, his voice dropping to a register that always made women weak at the knees. "Or just stupid?"

Instead of cowering like he expected, she tilted her chin higher. "I need your help, Qiu Dingjie."

Her use of his full name sent a strange thrill through him. He reached out, letting his fingers brush her cheek—light enough to seem almost tender, but with enough pressure to remind her who held the power.

"You're in no position to make demands," he whispered, his thumb dragging across her lower lip. "What makes you think I'd help the sheriff's daughter?"

"Because I'm not asking as the sheriff's daughter," she breathed, her resolve faltering slightly as his touch ignited something within her. "I'm asking as a woman who's tired of being caged."

That's when Dingjie made his move. In one swift motion, he grabbed her wrist, yanking her hard against his body. His other hand tangled in her hair, tilting her face up to his. Their bodies pressed together from chest to thigh, and he felt her gasp against his mouth.

"Careful what you wish for," he warned, his lips brushing hers as he spoke. "Once you step into my world, there's no going back."

Her eyes darkened with desire, and in that moment, he knew—he had to have her. Completely. Utterly. Possessively.

"Then don't let me go back," she whispered.

That was all the invitation he needed.