The club vibrates with bass that matches the pulse of Qiu Dingjie's desire. He sits in the VIP section, legs spread wide, white hair falling across his face as he watches his men with cold gray eyes. The air crackles with tension – everyone senses something's about to break.

Hunter leans in, voice low. "Chen Fei's getting married tomorrow. Thalia's family gives him distribution rights across Florida."

Dingjie's fingers stop mid-cigarette roll. The room temperature seems to drop ten degrees. "Married." His voice is quiet, dangerous.

"Business arrangement," Hunter says quickly, sensing the storm approaching.

Dingjie laughs – a sound without humor that makes everyone stiffen. "He thinks he can replace what he lost?" He crushes the unlit cigarette in his palm, tobacco leaking between his fingers like blood. "He thinks marriage will erase how he begged for you?"

Nikos smirks from across the table. "Maybe the brother finally found someone who'll have him."

Dingjie's gaze snaps to him, cold enough to freeze fire. "Careful, Nikos." The warning hangs in the air like a guillotine.

---

Morning finds you outside Dingjie's penthouse. Security eyes you hungrily until the elevator doors open. Nikos steps out, blocking your path with a lazy smile.

"Well, well. The little trophy come to pay homage?" He steps closer, too close, breath against your ear. "You know he can't keep you forever. Chen Fei's wedding..."

"Get your hand off her." Dingjie's voice cuts through the air like a blade. He stands at the end of the hallway, white hair damp from the shower, muscles glistening, gray eyes blazing with dark fire. He wears only low-slung black pants, tattoos visible across his chest and arms.

Nikos drops his hand immediately but smirks. "Just having a conversation, boss."

"Get. Out." Dingjie doesn't take his eyes off you as Nikos retreats. When the elevator doors close, he stalks toward you, movements predatory, until he pins you against the wall with his body. His hand wraps around your throat, thumb pressing just hard enough to make you gasp.

"You think you can walk in here after last night?" His knee forces your legs apart, pressing against your core. "You think I didn't watch you watching me?"

His face is inches from yours, gray eyes dilated with primal need. "Answer me, pet. Why are you here?"

The question hangs between you as his fingers tighten slightly around your throat, his free hand sliding under your shirt to grip your waist possessively.