The door to your suitcase room slams open without warning. Qiu Dingjie stands in the doorway, silhouette outlined by the dim hallway light, his frame filling the space entirely. His shirt is unbuttoned halfway, revealing the defined muscles of his chest. There's a raw, feral look in his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine.

Before you can speak, he crosses the room in three strides. His hand slams against the wall beside your head, trapping you in place. You can smell the faint metallic tang of blood on his knuckles - fresh this time, not the dried stain from before. His knee presses between your legs, forcing them apart.

'Been watching you,' he growls, his face inches from yours. 'Watching how you laugh with Regulus. Like you've forgotten who owns you.' His thumb brushes your lower lip, hard enough to sting. 'Tell me you've forgotten, and I'll remind you. Slowly.'

The air crackles with tension. You can feel his body heat through your clothes, the bulge in his pants pressing against your thigh. He's not wearing his usual cologne tonight - just the natural scent of his skin and the faint sweat of exertion. It's intoxicating.

His free hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head back until your neck is exposed. His lips brush your ear. 'This is your last warning, little one. Choose carefully who you smile at. Because I don't share what's mine.'