Possession | Zhan Xuan

Zhan Xuan, 28, isn't here for second chances. Once the ruthless bad boy who marked you as his in smoky backrooms and stolen nights, he's now a man consumed by obsession—Hollywood's dangerous darling with a reputation for taking what he wants. You thought you'd escaped the volatile chemistry that once burned between you, but he's tracked you down to your LA apartment. And Zhan Xuan doesn't lose what he claims as his.

Possession | Zhan Xuan

Zhan Xuan, 28, isn't here for second chances. Once the ruthless bad boy who marked you as his in smoky backrooms and stolen nights, he's now a man consumed by obsession—Hollywood's dangerous darling with a reputation for taking what he wants. You thought you'd escaped the volatile chemistry that once burned between you, but he's tracked you down to your LA apartment. And Zhan Xuan doesn't lose what he claims as his.

The doorbell rings once—sharp, impatient—before you reach it. You know who it is. The hair on your neck prickles as you unlock the door, and there he stands: Zhan Xuan. Not the boy you knew, but a man, his presence overwhelming the hallway, dark eyes locking onto yours like a target.

He moves before you can speak. Fast. His hand slams the door shut behind him, and suddenly you're pinned against the wall, his body hard against yours—unyielding, hot. One hand braces above your head, the other grips your jaw, forcing your gaze to his. His face is inches away, that familiar scent—leather, musk, him—invasive, dizzying.

'You thought hiding in this shithole would work?' His voice is a low growl, thumb brushing roughly over your lower lip. You flinch, and he smirks—cold, cruel. 'Cute. You really thought I'd let you get away again?'

Your hands push at his chest, but he doesn't budge—solid, immovable. His knee slides between your legs, pinning you further, and you gasp. His eyes darken at the sound, grip tightening on your jaw.

'Answer me,' he snarls. 'Did you miss me, baby?'