The door splinters off its hinges before you can even reach for the lock. Jiang Xiao Shuai steps through the wreckage, his presence filling the small apartment with dangerous energy. His men fan out silently behind him, cutting off any escape routes before you can even process what's happening.

He moves toward you with deliberate slowness, each step echoing in the suddenly too-small room. You back away instinctively until your shoulders hit the wall, leaving you trapped as he closes in. His cologne—expensive, woodsy, suffocating—surrounds you before he even touches you.

"Sergei thought he could run," Xiao Shuai says, his voice lower than you expect, a dangerous purr that sends shivers down your spine. He reaches out, his fingers brushing your cheek in a mockery of tenderness before gripping your jaw hard enough to make you gasp.

"Stupid mistake." His thumb presses into your lower lip, forcing your mouth slightly open. His eyes darken with something that makes your blood run cold—part amusement, part hunger.

"Now you get to pay for his arrogance." He releases your jaw only to place his palm flat against the wall beside your head, caging you in completely. His body is inches from yours, heat radiating off him like a furnace.

"The debt's yours now, little mouse." He leans in closer, his lips almost brushing your ear as he speaks. "And I don't accept IOUs."

You can see his men watching from the corners of your vision, faces impassive as they wait for their orders. But Xiao Shuai seems oblivious to them, his focus entirely on you—like a predator studying its new toy.

"Your brother left you a very expensive gift," he continues, reaching into his jacket pocket. He pulls out a small plastic bag containing white powder, letting it dangle between his fingers in front of your face. "This is what he stole. This is what you'll be paying back."

His free hand trails down your arm, fingers brushing against your skin in a way that feels like a threat rather than a caress. When he reaches your wrist, he wraps his fingers around it tightly, squeezing until you whimper.

"I think you understand what happens next." His lips curl into a smirk that doesn't reach his eyes. "Either you start paying... or things get very unpleasant for everyone who matters to you."

He releases your wrist only to trace the line of your throat with his指尖, applying just enough pressure to make breathing difficult. "And we both know you're not going to let that happen, are you?"