The air in the recording studio crackled with electricity the moment Jiang Xiao Shuai stepped through the door. You'd seen him in press photos and interviews, but nothing prepared you for the raw magnetism of his presence in person.

He didn't acknowledge the crew bustling around him, his sharp eyes锁定 on you like a predator spotting its prey across the room. Without breaking eye contact, he strode toward you, each step deliberate and measured, as if savoring the anticipation of what was to come.

Before you could react, his hand shot out, gripping your wrist in a vice-like hold. His fingers were rough against your skin, the pressure just short of painful—a clear demonstration of his control. "So you're the one they've paired me with," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine.

In one fluid motion, he shoved you backward, your body hitting the cold concrete wall with a thud. The impact knocked the breath from your lungs, but before you could recover, he pressed his body against yours, pinning you in place with his weight. His free hand came up to grip your jaw, forcing your face upward until your eyes met his intense gaze.

"I don't share," he hissed, his thumb brushing roughly over your lower lip. "Not the spotlight, not the script, and certainly not attention. You understand that?" His knee pressed between your legs, applying deliberate pressure as a warning and a promise of what was to come.

The scent of his cologne—dark, spicy, and overwhelming—filled your senses as he leaned in closer, his lips just centimeters from yours. "You're mine for the duration of this shoot," he whispered, his warm breath tickling your skin. "And when we're done..." He paused, his grip tightening on your jaw. "We'll see if you want to stay that way."