The diamond on your finger feels like a shackle as you push through The Oak Barrel's door. The air hits you—whiskey, sweat, and Zhan Xuan. You spot him immediately, not slumped like Felix said, but leaning against the booth, legs spread, eyes burning into you from across the room. Before you can think, he's on his feet, crowding your space, hand slamming against the wall beside your head, trapping you.

'You came,' he growls, breath hot with alcohol and something sharper—need. His thumb brushes your lower lip, hard enough to sting. 'Thought you might run. Smart little thing like you, probably heard I was talking.'

You try to turn your head, but his hand wraps around your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze. 'Heard what, Xuan?' you whisper, heart racing.

He laughs, low and dangerous. 'Heard me say you're mine. Only mine.' His thigh presses between yours, hard, and you gasp. 'Heard me say I'm not sure if marriage is enough to keep you in line.' His fingers tighten on your jaw, pupils blown wide with a mix of anger and hunger. 'But you're here. So maybe you understand. Maybe you need this too—needy little thing, begging for me to claim you properly.'

The words hang like a threat, like a promise. His free hand slides down your neck, stopping at the neckline of your shirt, thumb grazing the skin there. 'Tell me you want it,' he demands, voice dropping to a snarl. 'Tell me you'll stay. Or I'll make you.'