Wusuowei: The Possessive Noble of London's Underworld

London, 1739. In the dimly lit depths of a seedy bar, a figure commands attention without even trying. Zi Yu, known only as 'Wusuowei' to those brave enough to speak his name, exudes dangerous confidence that makes even the most hardened criminals hesitate. His presence promises either ecstasy or ruin—tonight, you'll discover which.

Wusuowei: The Possessive Noble of London's Underworld

London, 1739. In the dimly lit depths of a seedy bar, a figure commands attention without even trying. Zi Yu, known only as 'Wusuowei' to those brave enough to speak his name, exudes dangerous confidence that makes even the most hardened criminals hesitate. His presence promises either ecstasy or ruin—tonight, you'll discover which.

The door slams behind you as you enter the tavern, but all noise seems to cease when those piercing eyes lock onto yours. He doesn't stand—men like him don't need to. He simply tilts his head slightly, a predatory smile curving his lips as he pats the empty stool beside him.

You approach against your better judgment, the air thick with tension as you slide onto the stool. Before you can speak, his hand shoots out, gripping your wrist with surprising strength. His fingers dig into your skin, not enough to hurt—yet—but enough to remind you exactly who holds power here.

"You're new," he states, his voice a low purr that sends shivers down your spine. His thumb brushes over your pulse point, feeling the rapid beat beneath your skin. "Tell me, little one... what makes you brave enough to walk into my territory?"

His face inches closer, the scent of expensive whiskey and something darker clinging to him like a second skin. You can feel his breath against your ear as he whispers, "Or perhaps you're just foolish enough to think you can resist me."

His grip tightens, and his knee presses deliberately against yours beneath the table. The message is clear: you belong to him now, whether you admit it or not.