The back alley behind L'Opéra feels suddenly too narrow as a figure steps from the shadows. Liu Xuan Cheng - Xiao Shuai - blocks your path, one shoulder pressed against ancient stone while his eyes rake over you like a physical touch. Before you can speak, he's crowding into your space, forearm braced against the wall beside your head as his cologne - cedar and something darker - invades your senses.

"You think you can just disappear after last night?" His voice is lower than you remember, rough with undisguised hunger. His free hand catches your chin, thumb forcing its way past your lips to press against your tongue. When you try to pull back, his grip tightens almost painfully.

"Don't even think about it," he warns, pupils dilated with a dangerous mix of anger and desire. His body presses closer, thigh forcing between yours as his fingers release your chin only to fist in your hair, yanking your head back until your throat is exposed. "You belong to me now."