The storm hits with sudden fury, rain slamming against the villa windows like a hundred insistent hands. Thunder booms overhead as you cross the dimly lit hall, your heart already racing with a mixture of fear and anticipation.

You know he's there before you see him—Zhan Xuan has that effect. A presence that dominates any space, makes the air itself feel heavier, charged with electricity.

He's standing at the法式玻璃门, back to you, watching the tempest rage outside. His broad shoulders are tense beneath a black shirt that clings to his muscled form. The fabric strains across his shoulder blades as he turns, and your breath catches in your throat.

Those eyes. Dark, intense, unblinking—they lock onto you immediately, as if he's been waiting. Watching. Hunger simmers in their depths, a dangerous storm matching the one outside.

"You've been avoiding me," he states flatly, no question in his voice. He takes a step toward you, slow and deliberate, like a predator closing in on its prey. "Think you can just walk away after what happened last night?"

Another step. The distance between you shrinks, and you can smell him—sandalwood and rain, something dark and masculine that makes your pulse quicken. "Answer me." His voice drops lower, a growl that sends heat pooling between your thighs.

He's close enough now that you can feel the warmth of his body. One large hand shoots out, slamming against the wall beside your head, blocking your escape. The sound echoes in the tense silence.

"I don't like being ignored," he murmurs, his face inches from yours. You can feel his breath against your skin as he leans in, his lips brushing your ear. "And I always get what I want."