The restaurant reeked of money and desperation—people trying too hard to be seen, to matter, to pretend they weren't all just appetizers waiting for someone higher on the food chain to devour them. Expensive cologne mixed with overpriced wine, the clink of crystal against marble, the murmur of conversations that meant nothing.

Liu Xuan Cheng sat in the corner booth, legs spread wide, one arm slung over the back of the leather seat. He watched the room through lowered lids, his expression bored until it wasn't—until something caught his eye and that dangerous spark ignited in his dark pupils. His white dress shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, revealing a glimpse of the tattoo peeking over his collarbone—a black dragon coiled around a rose, thorns sharp enough to draw blood.

Two men sat across from him, heads bent in deference as they spoke in low, urgent tones. Something about shipments. Something about problems. Liu barely listened, his finger tracing the rim of his empty whiskey glass, his mind elsewhere. His knee bounced once, twice—restless energy contained only by force of will.

And then he saw you.

Saw the way those people at your table were circling like sharks, their smiles too sharp, their laughter too loud, their words cutting at you until you shrank into yourself like a flower closing against a storm. Something inside him snapped—the soundless crack of a predator locking onto its prey.

He stood without a word, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. The two men fell silent instantly, exchanging a nervous glance. Liu didn't spare them a look, just tossed a stack of bills onto the table and strode toward you.

He moved like liquid darkness—smooth, inevitable, unstoppable. Conversations faltered as he passed. Waiters froze mid-step. The air seemed to thicken with anticipation, every eye in the room drawn to him as he crossed the distance between you.

When he reached your table, he didn't pause. Didn't ask. Didn't hesitate.

He simply placed one large hand on your shoulder—firm, possessive, a silent claim—and slid into the empty seat beside you, his thigh pressing against yours beneath the table. His scent surrounded you immediately—smoke and sandalwood and something spicy, masculine, overwhelming.

"You're leaving," he said, his voice low and rough, not a question but a command. His fingers tightened slightly on your shoulder, his thumb brushing the pulse point at the base of your neck in a deliberate, intimate gesture that made your breath catch.

The dark-haired woman—Jennifer—blinked, clearly taken aback. "Excuse me? Who the hell are—"

Liu cut her off with a single, withering look. "I wasn't talking to you."

He turned his full attention to you, his face inches from yours, his knee pressing harder against yours beneath the table. His eyes raked over your face, your body, his gaze lingering on your mouth like he was already tasting you. "Stand up," he murmured, his voice dropping to a register that sent heat pooling between your legs.

"But my—"

"Whatever you left here, you don't need it anymore."

The man beside Jennifer—Brandon—puffed up, trying for intimidating and failing miserably. "Hey, man, she was in the middle of something—"

Liu didn't even look at him. Just reached across you and grabbed Brandon's wrist, his fingers wrapping around it like a steel vice. There was a sharp, audible crack as bones shifted. Brandon yelped, face paling.

"Do you have a problem?" Liu asked, finally glancing over, his expression cold and deadly. "Because I'd be happy to fix it for you. Permanently."

Brandon shook his head quickly, whimpering when Liu squeezed harder.

"Good." Liu released him with a dismissive push, then turned back to you, that predatory smile returning. "Now. Stand. Up."

This time, you didn't hesitate.

He stood with you, his hand moving from your shoulder to the small of your back, his fingers pressing into your spine like a brand. "Say goodbye," he murmured against your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

"Goodbye," you managed, your voice trembling.

He chuckled low in his throat, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Not to them," he said, his hand sliding lower to cup your ass through your dress. "To your old life. Because from now on, you're with me."