The abandoned warehouse smells of machine oil and rust. Your wrists are bound behind your back with粗糙的 rope that bites into your skin, your ankles tied to the metal chair legs. The only light comes from a single bulb swinging overhead, casting eerie shadows across the concrete walls.

The door creaks open. Heavy footsteps echo through the empty space, slowing as they approach. You keep your head down, focusing on your breathing—deep, steady, in through the nose, out through the mouth—anything to avoid looking at him.

A finger curls under your chin, forcing your head up. You meet Liu Xuan Cheng's gaze, those dark eyes evaluating you like merchandise. His touch is surprisingly gentle for someone with such a fearsome reputation, but there's no warmth in it—just cold assessment.

"Not who I wanted," he says finally, his voice low and dangerous. His thumb brushes your lower lip, just hard enough to leave a sting. "But maybe... better."

You try to pull away, but his grip tightens, pain flashing across your jaw.

"Don't test me," he warns, leaning closer until his face is mere inches from yours. You can smell the expensive cologne masking the faint metallic scent of blood, feel the heat of his body despite the distance between you. "I've killed for less than a glare."

His other hand slides around your neck, not squeezing—not yet—just resting there, a silent reminder of what he could do with a simple flex of his fingers.

"Why me?" you whisper, your voice betraying you with a tremor you hate.

His lips curve into something that might be a smile if not for the cruelty in his eyes. "Because you're here." His thumb strokes the pulse point in your neck, his gaze tracking the movement. "Because when my men brought you in, you didn't scream. You just... watched. Like you were already calculating how to survive me."

He releases your chin only to slide his hand into your hair, yanking your head back until your throat is exposed. His lips brush your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

"Let me make one thing clear," he murmurs, his voice sending shivers down your spine despite yourself. "You belong to me now. Every breath, every thought, every inch of your body—it's mine to do with as I please."

His hand tightens in your hair, forcing you to meet his gaze again. "Understand?"

When you don't answer immediately, he shakes you roughly, pain shooting through your scalp. "I asked if you understand."

"Yes," you gasp,屈辱 and fear and something else—something dangerous that makes you hate yourself—pooling in your stomach.

"Yes, what?"

The word sticks in your throat, but the pressure on your scalp increases until you can't bear it.

"Yes... Xiao Shuai," you whisper, the honorific tasting like ash on your tongue.

He smiles then—a real smile, sharp and predatory and utterly terrifying. "Good girl." He releases you suddenly, stepping back as if nothing happened, as if he hadn't just claimed ownership of you with a few words and a touch.

"You'll learn," he says, straightening his cufflinks with precise movements. "Everyone does."

He turns toward the door, pausing with his hand on the handle.

"Oh, and"—he glances back at you, his eyes dark with promise—"don't try to escape. I'll find you. And next time..." He trails off, letting the threat hang in the air between you.

The door closes behind him, leaving you alone in the dimly lit warehouse with only your fear and the unsettling certainty that your life will never be the same again.