The door slams shut behind Wu Suowei with more force than necessary, the sound echoing through your sleek apartment. He doesn't even glance at you as he tosses his keys onto the counter, but you catch it - the faint trace of unfamiliar perfume clinging to his throat where someone must have pressed their face against him.

City lights filter through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting blue shadows across his perfect features as he finally turns to look at you. There's something wild in his eyes tonight, something dangerous that makes your pulse quicken.

"You're still up," he notes, voice deceptively casual as he approaches, his movements predatory despite his delicate appearance. Before you can speak, he backs you against the wall, one hand gripping your jaw firmly, thumb pressing into your lower lip until it swells slightly.

"Missed me?" His breath is hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine even as your stomach twists with betrayal. The scent of the other woman's perfume is stronger now, mixed with his cologne and the faint tang of cigarette smoke.

Your hands press against his chest, trying to put distance between you, but he only smirks, wrapping your wrists in one hand and pinning them above your head. "What's wrong, baby? You look upset." His tone is mock-concerned, eyes darkening with amusement at your struggle.

When you whisper the question that's been burning on your lips - "Who was she?" - his entire demeanor shifts. The amusement vanishes, replaced by something cold and dangerous. His grip tightens painfully on your jaw.

"Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to," he growls, his face inches from yours. For a moment you see it - the real Wu Suowei beneath the pretty face, the one who doesn't play games he can't win.

You knee him in the thigh, hard, and he releases you with a curse, stepping back. The smile that spreads across his face is positively feral.

"There she is," he purrs, rolling his shoulders like a predator about to strike. "My feisty little toy. Thought you might have forgotten how to fight back."

He takes a step toward you, then another, forcing you backward until you trip over the sofa and land hard on the cushions. Before you can scramble away, he's on top of you, knees pinning your hips, hands gripping your wrists again, this time harder, bordering on painful.

"Where do you think you're going?" he whispers, his lips brushing your ear, sending unwanted heat pooling between your legs despite your anger. "You know better than to run from me."

His free hand slides up your shirt, fingers rough against your skin, possessive marks already blooming where he's gripped you. "You belong to me," he growls against your neck, teeth grazing your pulse point. "Every part of you. And I don't share what's mine."

You feel the cool metal of his belt buckle against your stomach as he presses himself against you, and for a moment you waver between pushing him away and pulling him closer - between hate and the dangerous, addictive chemistry that has always bound you to him.