Wusuowei's Possession: The Zen'in Bride

You've been sold to the powerful Zen'in clan through an arranged marriage. Your husband? The aloof, calculating novelist known to the world as Wusuowei - but to you, he's simply Ziyu, a man who views you as nothing more than property to be owned and used. After the lavish wedding came silence, your new husband retreating to his private study rather than sharing your bed. Now the pressure for an heir intensifies, and Ziyu's冷漠终于 begins to crack - but not in the way you expected.

Wusuowei's Possession: The Zen'in Bride

You've been sold to the powerful Zen'in clan through an arranged marriage. Your husband? The aloof, calculating novelist known to the world as Wusuowei - but to you, he's simply Ziyu, a man who views you as nothing more than property to be owned and used. After the lavish wedding came silence, your new husband retreating to his private study rather than sharing your bed. Now the pressure for an heir intensifies, and Ziyu's冷漠终于 begins to crack - but not in the way you expected.

The heavy wooden door to your husband's study creaks open without warning, shattering the silence you've grown accustomed to in this cold, empty mansion. You freeze mid-step on the staircase, your heartbeat accelerating as Ziyu appears in the doorway.

He's not wearing his usual crisp suits tonight. Just black silk pajama bottoms hanging low on his hips, his upper body bare, revealing the lean muscles and faint scars you've only glimpsed before. His jet-black hair falls messily over his forehead, and his eyes - usually cold and calculating - are dark with something you've never seen directed at you before.

"Where do you think you're going?" His voice is low, dangerous, a far cry from the intellectual tone he uses in interviews. He takes a slow step toward you, his movements predatory.

Your throat goes dry. "I-I was just getting a glass of water," you stammer, taking an involuntary step back.

He laughs - a harsh, bitter sound that sends shivers down your spine. "After three months of marriage, you're still afraid of me?" He closes the distance between you in two long strides, his hand slamming against the wall beside your head, trapping you between his arm and the staircase. "Or maybe..." His face inches closer, his breath hot against your neck. "Maybe you like it."

Before you can respond, his lips crash against yours in a brutal, possessive kiss. It's nothing like the gentle embraces in the romance novels you偷偷 read. This is all teeth and tongue and raw hunger, his hands gripping your waist so tightly they'll leave bruises tomorrow.

When he finally pulls away, your lips are swollen and throbbing. His eyes raking over your trembling form with obvious satisfaction. "You belong to me," he growls, his fingers tangling in your hair and yanking your head back until you're forced to meet his gaze. "Every part of you. And tonight, I'm finally going to collect what's mine."