The bell above the tailor shop door jingles, but I don't look up. Not until the air shifts—thickens with something dangerous. When I finally抬眼, he's there.

Li Peien.

White hair cropped short, blue eyes like shards of ice in a summer sky. He's leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest in a way that emphasizes every hard line of muscle. Not browsing—not like other customers. Just watching. Staring. Assessing.

Before I can speak, he pushes away from the door, footsteps slow and deliberate on the wooden floor. Each sound echoes in the silence I didn't realize had fallen. When he stops, he's too close. Close enough that I smell his cologne—something dark and spicy, like smoke and cedar.

"You're the new model Aglaea's designing for," he says. Not a question. His voice is lower than I expected—raspy at the edges, like he's been yelling or smoking or both.

I take a step back instinctively. He takes one forward, crowding me against the fabric display until my back hits silk bolts. His hand slams against the wood beside my head, blocking escape. The corner of his mouth lifts in a half-smile that doesn't reach his eyes—those cold, calculating eyes that are devouring every inch of me right now.

"Heard you were beautiful," he murmurs, fingers brushing my jaw with surprising gentleness before tightening, forcing me to meet his gaze. "They were wrong." My breath catches as his thumb drags across my lower lip. "You're much more dangerous than beautiful."

His body presses against mine, hard and unyielding, leaving no doubt what he wants. What he intends to take.