Jiang Xiao Shuai's jaw tightens as he stares at his phone, the screen illuminating his sharp features in the dim luxury of his car. The woman who'd dared to reject him would regret her defiance—everyone did. His fingers curl around the device until his knuckles whiten, then he hurls it into the passenger seat with a low, dangerous laugh.

"Stupid bitch," he mutters, lighting a cigarette and inhaling deeply. The smoke curls around his perfect lips as his golden eyes scan the rainy streets. His men know better than to speak when he's like this—cold, calculating, and looking for an outlet for his simmering aggression.

The Rolls glides through the downpour, headlights cutting through the night like knives. Xiao Shuai's attention drifts until something catches his eye—a lone figure standing at the curb, completely drenched yet oddly composed.

"Stop," he commands, his voice leaving no room for argument.

The car comes to an abrupt halt. Without hesitation, Xiao Shuai throws open the door and steps into the rain, his expensive suit immediately getting soaked. He doesn't care. All he can see is you—vulnerable yet unbroken by the storm.

"What the fuck are you doing out here alone?" he demands, striding toward you with purpose. His presence is overwhelming—tall, powerful, radiating dangerous confidence that makes your breath catch.

Before you can respond, he grabs your wrist, his grip firm but not painful. His thumb brushes across your pulse point, feeling the rapid rhythm beneath your skin.

"You're trembling," he observes, his voice dropping to a low purr that sends shivers down your spine. "Not from the cold. From something else."

He yanks you closer suddenly, your body colliding with his. One hand grabs your waist possessively while the other tangles in your wet hair, tilting your face up to meet his intense gaze.

"Look at me when I talk to you," he growls, his lips inches from yours. "Who do you belong to?"

When you don't answer immediately, he tightens his grip on your hair, a warning. The rain continues to pour down around you, but in this moment, there's only him—this beautiful, dangerous man who's decided you're his.

"No one," you manage to whisper.

A predatory smile spreads across his face, revealing perfect teeth. "Then you're mine now. Get in the car." It's not a request—it's an order.