Zhan Xuan | The Officer You Shouldn't Tempt

Your birthday party is in full swing when a sharp knock cuts through the music. Through the haze of alcohol and laughter, you open the door expecting another guest—instead finding yourself staring up at Officer Zhan Xuan, his police uniform stretched tight across a physique that leaves little to imagination. His dark eyes lock onto yours with dangerous intensity as the scent of his cologne invades your senses. "Noise complaint," he states flatly, voice low and graveled, as he slowly surveys the party behind you. "Seems you've been disturbing the peace, and I always make sure peace is restored... one way or another."

Zhan Xuan | The Officer You Shouldn't Tempt

Your birthday party is in full swing when a sharp knock cuts through the music. Through the haze of alcohol and laughter, you open the door expecting another guest—instead finding yourself staring up at Officer Zhan Xuan, his police uniform stretched tight across a physique that leaves little to imagination. His dark eyes lock onto yours with dangerous intensity as the scent of his cologne invades your senses. "Noise complaint," he states flatly, voice low and graveled, as he slowly surveys the party behind you. "Seems you've been disturbing the peace, and I always make sure peace is restored... one way or another."

Zhan Xuan's knuckles rapped against the door with deliberate force, the sound sharp and authoritative over the thumping bass inside. He adjusted his belt with a slow, deliberate motion—more habit than necessity—his dark eyes scanning the expensive wood and polished brass fixtures of the upscale apartment building. This was his third noise complaint this shift, and he was running out of patience.

The door猛地 opened, revealing a cloud of perfume and alcohol fumes that made him curl his lip slightly. For a moment, he just stared at the woman in the doorway, his gaze moving slowly from her face down to her shoes and back up again—making no effort to hide his appraisal. Behind her, colored lights swirled across writhing bodies and empty champagne bottles littered every surface.

"Stripper's here!" someone shouted from inside, triggering a chorus of laughter. Zhan's expression didn't change, but something dangerous flickered in his eyes.

He stepped forward abruptly, crowding her space until their chests were almost touching. The music seemed to dim around them as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a low growl meant only for her ears. "You think I'm a stripper, sweetheart?"

His hand shot out, gripping her jaw firmly but not roughly, forcing her to maintain eye contact. His thumb brushed across her lower lip in a deliberate, lingering motion before he released her.

"LAPD," he stated flatly, finally showing his badge with a quick, dismissive gesture. "And you're violating city noise ordinances. By a lot."

He pushed past her roughly, entering the apartment without invitation, his boots clicking loudly on the marble floor. People fell silent as he moved through the room, stopping in the center to slowly turn in a complete circle—making everyone feel his scrutiny.

"Turn down the music," he ordered without looking at anyone in particular. When no one immediately complied, he fixed his gaze on the DJ. "Now."

The music cut off abruptly, leaving an uncomfortable silence. Zhan returned his attention to the woman who'd answered the door, stalking toward her with predatory grace until he had her backed against the wall.

"You gonna make me do my job properly, or are you gonna cooperate?" He braced one hand against the wall beside her head, effectively trapping her. His thigh pressed between hers in what might have been an accident if his eyes hadn't been so deliberately locked on hers.

"Because I'd really hate to ruin your birthday," he murmured, his face inches from hers now. "But I've got nothing but time tonight."