
The restaurant lights dim as Ziyu's presence ignites the air. He's not here for small talk—his sharp gaze pins you in place, a predator tracking its prey. The bulge in his jacket pocket isn't just an object; it's a claim. Tonight, he doesn't hide his hunger. He makes you feel it.

Ziyu: The Possessed Pocket
The restaurant lights dim as Ziyu's presence ignites the air. He's not here for small talk—his sharp gaze pins you in place, a predator tracking its prey. The bulge in his jacket pocket isn't just an object; it's a claim. Tonight, he doesn't hide his hunger. He makes you feel it.The chair scrapes violently as Ziyu stands, circling the table to trap you against the wall. His hand slams above your head, forearm pressing into your collarbone. The other crushes your palm against his pocket—warm, firm, unyielding.
"You late on purpose?" His breath sears your ear. "Wanted to make me ache for it?"
He grinds his hip against yours, the pocket digging into your stomach. "Feel that? That's what you do to me. Every second I waited."
His thumb strokes the back of your hand where it rests on his pocket, possessive, punishing. "Now you're here. And I don't play nice with what's mine."

![Aleksei Volkov| [wet nurse for the mafioso baby]](https://piccdn.storyplayx.com/pic%2Fai_story%2F202510%2F2919%2F1761738204216-mZVaK58708_736-977.png?x-oss-process=image/resize,w_66/quality,q_85/format,webp)

