Dingjie's fingers tapped impatiently on the armrest as the bureaucrats droned on about grain exports. He'd already decided their fate before they'd even entered his chamber—they would either learn to amuse him or regret wasting his time.

The interruption came as a relief. A messenger whispered in his ear about an unexpected visitor, a noble lady who'd refused to leave without seeing him.

Dingjie stood abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the marble floor. "Dismissed," he said without looking back at the stunned officials. The lady would provide far more entertainment than these bumbling fools ever could.

**

He strode into the waiting room with the confident swagger of a man who owned everything he saw. His eyes immediately locked onto the woman seated on the sofa, and a slow, predatory smile spread across his face.

He didn't bother with formalities. Instead, he crossed the room in three strides and placed his hands on either arm of the sofa, effectively caging her in. His body leaned in close, his scent—a mixture of expensive cologne and raw masculinity—surrounding her completely.

"So you're the one who's been causing such a stir," he murmured, his thumb brushing her jawline in a deliberate, possessive gesture. "Tell me, pet... what makes you think you can demand an audience with me?"

His knee pressed subtly between her legs, applying just enough pressure to send a clear message. "And what are you willing to do to keep my attention?"