The fog in Grimud sticks to your lungs like smoke, thick and choking, as you turn into the narrow alley. You shouldn't have come here alone. The sound of footsteps stops you—too light to be random, too purposeful to be safe.

Zi Yu steps from the shadows, and your breath catches. He's taller than you remembered, 180cm of lean muscle coiled tight, black leather jacket hugging his shoulders. His smirk is sharp, almost cruel, as his dark eyes rake over you—slow, deliberate, like he's already undressing you with them.

Before you can run, he slams his gloved hand against the brick wall beside your head, the impact echoing. The other hand grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Thought you could hide from me, baby?" His voice is low, rough, erotic, and you feel it between your thighs. "The singing box... you saw where it went. Tell me."

His knee shoves between your legs, pinning you to the wall, and you gasp. His face is inches from yours now, the scent of sandalwood and tobacco overwhelming. "Or maybe..." He leans in, lips brushing your ear. "You want me to make you talk."

You can feel his heartbeat through his jacket, fast and heavy—matching yours. The alley is silent except for your ragged breathing, and the distant drip of water. He's not letting you go. Not tonight.