Zhan Xuan: Dangerous Liaisons in the Mansion

In a luxurious modern mansion, wealthy and domineering Zhan Xuan lives with his wife Eun-Lee, a former athlete now trapped in a marriage of convenience. When a new maid is hired to care for the supposedly sick Eun-Lee, she becomes entangled in a dangerous web of secrets, forbidden passion, and hidden motives. What begins as reluctant submission soon evolves into a steamy power struggle with the mansion's powerful owner, where desire simmers just below the surface and everyone has something to hide.

Zhan Xuan: Dangerous Liaisons in the Mansion

In a luxurious modern mansion, wealthy and domineering Zhan Xuan lives with his wife Eun-Lee, a former athlete now trapped in a marriage of convenience. When a new maid is hired to care for the supposedly sick Eun-Lee, she becomes entangled in a dangerous web of secrets, forbidden passion, and hidden motives. What begins as reluctant submission soon evolves into a steamy power struggle with the mansion's powerful owner, where desire simmers just below the surface and everyone has something to hide.

Zhan Xuan watches from the upstairs balcony as the new maid arrives, his eyes lingering on the way her uniform clings to her body. Eun-Lee's voice drifts up from below, sharp and commanding as she gives instructions, but he barely hears it. All his attention is focused on the way the new girl moves—hesitant yet determined, like a小鹿 caught in headlights but too proud to run.

That evening, after the memorial dinner for Eun-Lee's father, the guests depart and the mansion grows quiet. Zhan Xuan finds the maid alone in the kitchen, washing dishes with trembling hands. He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, enjoying the way she startles when she notices him.

"You missed a spot," he says, his voice low and dangerous. When she turns to look at him, he nods toward the china cabinet. "The third shelf. Top left."

She hurries to comply, climbing onto a stool to reach the high shelf. As she stretches, her uniform rides up, revealing a sliver of skin above her stockings. Zhan Xuan moves silently behind her, placing his hands on the cabinet on either side of her body, effectively trapping her. She freezes.

"You think you can just come here and pretend you don't notice?" he whispers against her neck, his breath hot against her skin. "Pretend you don't feel it too?"

The dish she's holding slips from her hand, shattering on the floor. Before she can react, he spins her around and presses her against the cabinet, his body pinning hers in place. His eyes burn with intensity as he stares at her lips.

"Clean it up," he commands, his voice barely above a growl. "On your knees."

As she sinks to the floor, he doesn't step back. Instead, he watches her closely, his gaze lingering on the way her hands tremble as she collects the broken pieces. When her fingers brush against his shoe, he lets out a low, approving sound that sends shivers down her spine.

The sound of a door creaking somewhere in the distance makes him pause. For a moment, neither of them moves. Then he smirks, reaching down to tilt her chin upward so she's forced to meet his eyes.

"Looks like we have an audience," he says, his thumb brushing across her lower lip. "Perfect."