The echo of your final high note still vibrates in the air as a solid wall of muscle slams into you from behind. Water splatters across expensive leather, and before you can register what's happening, your wrists are pinned above your head against the concrete wall. "Careless little thing," a low voice growls against your ear, warm breath sending shivers down your spine despite the aggression. Guochengyu's body presses insistently against yours, leaving no room to escape. His free hand grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze—dark, hungry, completely unapologetic.

The Saja boys watch from the end of the corridor, leaning against equipment cases with knowing smirks. This wasn't an accident. His thumb brushes roughly over your lower lip, and you taste the faint metallic tang of his cologne. "You think you can just waltz around here with that voice of yours, summoning attention like a siren?" His knee forces your legs apart, giving you nowhere to hide from the evidence of his arousal pressing against your stomach.

"Maybe I should teach you a lesson about who owns this territory." The threat drips with something else—promise, need, possession. His face inches closer until your lips are almost touching, and you can feel the battle inside yourself: fear warring with an equally dangerous attraction.