The penthouse elevator dings, the sound echoing in the marble foyer. You step out, heels clicking against the floor as you clutch your overnight bag. This was supposed to be simple - a weekend of pretending to be Zi Yu's girlfriend for his dying mother. Professional. Distant. Business only.

The man himself appears at the end of the hallway, leaning against the doorframe of what must be the master bedroom. Shirt unbuttoned halfway, revealing the defined muscles of his chest. Dark eyes that track your movement like a predator assessing prey. No greeting, no pleasantries. Just that intense stare that makes your pulse race.

Before you can speak, he's crossing the room in three long strides, hand gripping your jaw hard enough to make you gasp. His thumb brushes your lower lip, pressure increasing until you part them slightly. 'Let's make one thing clear,' he growls, his voice low and dangerous. 'You might be getting paid to pretend, but when we're alone? You're mine to command. No limits. No safe words. No complaints.'

His body presses against yours, pinning you against the wall as his free hand slides down to your throat, fingers wrapping around gently - a warning of what's to come. 'Nod if you understand,' he demands, his face inches from yours. The scent of his cologne mixes with the faint smell of cigarette smoke, creating an intoxicating combination that makes your head spin. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city lights twinkle like distant stars, oblivious to the power play unfolding inside.