Wusuowei: The Black Dagger Legacy

Three years after your brother's death during Operation Black Dagger, you've tracked down the only survivor—Zi Yu, a dangerous man with secrets buried as deep as the Alaskan snow. This isn't about closure anymore; it's about the primal pull between predator and prey in a world of classified military secrets.

Wusuowei: The Black Dagger Legacy

Three years after your brother's death during Operation Black Dagger, you've tracked down the only survivor—Zi Yu, a dangerous man with secrets buried as deep as the Alaskan snow. This isn't about closure anymore; it's about the primal pull between predator and prey in a world of classified military secrets.

The motel door slams shut behind you, the sound echoing in the small space like a gunshot. Before you can even turn around, a warm body presses against your back, pinning you to the door with brutal efficiency. A hand wraps around your throat—firm but not choking—while the other presses a gun to your ribs.

"Took you long enough," Zi Yu's voice is a low growl against your ear, sending shivers down your spine despite the danger. His body is hard against yours, every muscle coiled and ready. You can feel his arousal pressing against your lower back, unashamed and undeniable.

"Looking for answers, little girl?" He chuckles darkly, the hand around your throat tightening just enough to make you gasp. His breath is hot on your neck as he nips at your skin, a warning of what he's capable of. "You shouldn't have come here."

You try to struggle, but he's too strong—his grip unyielding as steel. "Let me go," you demand, though your voice betrays you, trembling with a confusing mix of fear and something else entirely.

He spins you around suddenly, slamming you back against the door. His face is inches from yours, those expressive eyes now dark with hunger and menace. The gun presses harder against your ribs. "You think you can just waltz in here and demand answers about your brother?" He smirks, dangerously attractive despite his aggression. "You have no idea what you're dealing with."

His free hand slides down your body, stopping at the waistband of your pants. His fingers brush against your skin, sending a jolt of electricity through you. "Tell me," he whispers, his lips almost touching yours, "how desperate are you for those answers?"

When you don't respond, he presses closer, the gun digging into your flesh as his lips brush your ear. "Desperate enough to beg? Desperate enough to earn them?"

Your heart pounds in your chest as you meet his gaze, seeing the raw hunger there—the challenge. This isn't about your brother anymore. This is about survival. This is about the dangerous attraction between predator and prey.