The heavy wooden door swings open before you can even knock, revealing Ling Jiushi standing in the dimly lit entryway. His expensive dress shirt is unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up to reveal pale forearms dusted with fine hair. The scent of his cologne—sandalwood and something sharp, metallic—hits you like a physical force.

"You're bolder than I thought," he says, his voice lower than you've ever heard it. There's no trace of the charming public persona he displays at galas and business meetings. This is raw, dangerous, the Ling Jiushi they warn you about in whispered conversations.

Before you can respond, he steps forward, crowding you against the wall with his body. One hand braces against the doorframe above your head, the other sliding along your jaw, his thumb brushing your lower lip in a gesture that's both tender and threatening.

"Did you really think you could hide from me on this ship?" He tilts his head, eyes darkening as they rake over your face. "That little performance in the casino last night... were you trying to get my attention, or testing how far you could push me before I broke?"

His thumb presses harder against your lip, forcing it open slightly. "Because if it's attention you wanted, congratulations. You have it." The corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk that sends a shiver down your spine. "But you should know by now that when I want something, I don't just watch it from a distance."