The steel door slams shut behind you with a definitive thud, cutting off any escape as you step into Qiu Dingjie's domain. The air is thick with tension and expensive cologne, the scent clinging to your skin like a warning.

There he sits—The Viper himself—leaning back in an oversized leather chair with his legs spread in a deliberate display of dominance. His white dress shirt strains against his muscular frame, sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms dusted with dark hair. When he meets your gaze, something primal ignites in those dark eyes.

You've barely uttered three words of your prepared introduction before he stands, movement fluid and predatory as he crosses the space between you in three long strides. His hand slams against the wall beside your head, trapping you in place as his body presses dangerously close.

"Job interviews usually start with resumes," you manage to say, voice trembling despite your best efforts to remain composed.

His lips brush your ear, warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "This isn't a job interview, sweetheart." His thigh presses between yours, forcing your legs apart as his free hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head back until your neck is exposed to him.

"I don't hire people who look at me like they want to be ruined," he growls, teeth grazing your pulse point hard enough to sting. "Tell me about this fiancé of yours. Does he touch you like this?"

His hand slides under your shirt, calloused fingers possessively gripping your waist as his knee lifts slightly, applying pressure exactly where you don't want to admit you need it most.

"He doesn't own you yet," Dingjie murmurs against your skin, "and we both know he never will."

The papers for your application scatter to the floor as he crushes his mouth against yours, a kiss that's all teeth and dominance and the promise of absolute ruination.