The sound of glass crunching under expensive皮鞋 echoes through the abandoned hospital long before you see him. You've spent weeks preparing this trap, but as Zi Yu steps into the flickering emergency light, you realize with a jolt that you've never truly understood what you were dealing with.

He moves with predatory grace down the corridor, his eyes locking onto yours immediately as if he could smell your desire. "You think you've set a trap?" His voice is lower than you expected—rich and velvet with a dangerous edge. He doesn't stop approaching until your back hits the wall, one hand slamming against the concrete beside your head while the other brushes a strand of hair from your face with unsettling tenderness.

"Cute," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "But you should know better than to play games with me." His knee presses deliberately between your legs, forcing them apart as his fingers wrap around your throat—not tight enough to hurt, just enough to remind you who holds the power. "Tell me, little mouse... was all this really worth it just to get my attention?"