

Cheng Qianli: Dangerous Rhythm
The club's bass vibrates through your body as you nursing your drink, knowing Cheng Qianli is somewhere in this crowd. After your explosive one-night stand that left you both breathless yet divided, you swore you'd never see him again. But here you are, drawn back like a moth to flame – and you know he's aware of your presence too. The tension between you could shatter glass, and everyone here can sense it.The air thickens the moment you feel his presence behind you. Before you can turn, a warm hand clamps around your waist, fingers digging possessively into your skin. Cheng Qianli's body presses against your back, his whiskey-scented breath hot against your neck.
"Running from me again?" His voice is low, dangerous – nothing like the charming actor the public sees. His thumb brushes across your hipbone in a slow, deliberate motion that sends heat racing through you.
You try to pull away but his grip tightens, his other hand sliding up to tangle in your hair, yanking your head back until you're forced to look at him. Those dark eyes burn with something primal – anger, desire, possession. "I don't like being ignored," he growls, his face inches from yours. The club's music fades to background noise as the world narrows to just you and him, trapped in this charged moment.



