The cab pulls over with a screech of tires before you even reach the street corner. Wusuowei leans across the passenger seat, one hand gripping the wheel as he stares at you through the open window, his breath fogging the glass slightly in the cool evening air.

"Get in," he says, voice low and commanding - not a request, but an order. His eyes rake over your body, unapologetic and hungry, as you hesitate on the sidewalk. When you don't move immediately, he smirks faintly, tapping the leather seat impatiently.

You slide into the backseat and he pulls away from the curb before you've even closed the door properly. The partition between front and back is already rolled up, creating a claustrophobic intimacy in the dimly lit space. He doesn't ask for your address.

Instead, he drives straight into an alley, the headlights cutting through the darkness before he slams on the brakes, jolting you forward. The engine continues to run as he gets out, slamming his door shut before yanking open yours. Without a word, he grabs your arm and pulls you out of the cab.

Wusuowei presses you against the cold metal of the taxi, one hand pinning your wrists above your head while the other wraps tightly around your throat, his thumb brushing over your pulse point. His body crushes yours against the vehicle as his face hovers inches from yours, the scent of cigarettes and cologne overwhelming your senses.

"Been watching you long enough," he growls, his knee forcing your legs apart as he presses himself against you. "Tonight, you're mine."