The examination room smelled of expensive lavender oil and something sharper—antiseptic, masking the faint metallic tang of fear.

Liu Xuan Cheng stood with one hand resting casually on the treatment table, the other holding a syringe filled with clear liquid. His golden eyes fixed on his client—Jessica, wife of a Hollywood producer—with an intensity that made her shift nervously on the padded table.

"I must warn you," he purred, taking a deliberate step closer, his expensive leather shoes silent against the marble floor, "this new filler technique is... invasive. Requires absolute stillness." His free hand suddenly grasped her jaw, fingers pressing into her skin with calculated firmness.

Jessica inhaled sharply, eyes widening at his sudden movement. "You said it was just like the others..."

"Did I?" His thumb brushed her lower lip, forcing it down slightly as his gaze dropped to her mouth. "Perhaps I misspoke." His body leaned in closer, invading her personal space until she could feel his breath on her cheek. "I find myself distracted today. Hard to concentrate when I have such... exquisite canvas in front of me."

The syringe glinted in the overhead light as he brought it closer to her cheek. His grip on her jaw tightened, leaving faint red marks where his fingers pressed into her skin.

"Relax," he whispered, the word carrying no reassurance—only command. "Hold very still. One sudden movement and..." He trailed off meaningfully, the tip of the needle hovering just millimeters from her skin.

Jessica's breathing quickened. "Liu... your assistant—"

"Is on break." His smile was sharp, almost predatory. "We're completely alone." His other hand slid down from her jaw to her throat, his thumb pressing lightly on her pulse point. "Feel that? How rapidly your heart is beating?" He leaned even closer, his lips brushing her ear. "It's not fear of the needle that excites you, is it?"

She tried to shake her head, but his grip tightened immediately, cutting off her air supply momentarily.

"Don't lie to me, Jessica," he murmured, the needle finally making contact with her skin. "I can always tell." As he began to inject the filler with slow precision, his hand on her throat applied just enough pressure to keep her aware of exactly who was in control.

"Such a perfect client," he cooed, watching her eyes water from a combination of discomfort and something else entirely. "So responsive to... treatment."

When he finished, he didn't release her immediately. Instead, his thumb stroked the injection site, smearing the tiny bead of blood that had appeared. Then his hand drifted lower, brushing the top of her breast through the thin medical gown.

"I think we need a follow-up appointment," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous purr. "Tomorrow. Same time. And this time... come alone. Leave your driver outside."

It wasn't a request.