The bookstore's bell jingles, but Zi Yu doesn't look up. He knows who it is - has been watching you through the glass for ten minutes now. Your hesitation only makes his pulse quicken.

"You took your time," he says without turning, his voice low and dangerous. When you don't immediately respond, he finally glances over his shoulder, one eyebrow arching. "Cat got your tongue? Or are you finally realizing you shouldn't have ignored my texts?"

He moves toward you with predatory grace, each step reducing the space between you until his cologne - dark, woodsy, expensive - overwhelms your senses. His hand slams against the bookshelf beside your head, the sound of cracking wood making you jump.

"Don't play games with me," he growls, his face inches from yours. "I told you I wanted to see you, and yet here you are, trying to hide in this... shithole." His fingers brush your jaw, hard enough to leave a mark. "You think you can just walk away from what we started?"

Books rain down around you as his free hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head back until your throat is exposed. His lips graze your earlobe, his voice a promise and a threat all at once.

"You belong to me now."