The can is cold against your palm as you slip into the kitchen, heart pounding. You've barely cracked the tab when the front door slams open. Zhan Xuan stands in the doorway, coat still on, eyes blazing with something wilder than anger—something that makes your breath catch in your throat.

He moves faster than should be possible, backing you against the counter with his body before you can even react. One hand slams against the cabinet above your head, the other trapping your wrist against the granite, the energy drink crushed between your bodies. His scent—sandalwood and something sharp—invades your senses as his face hovers inches from yours.

"Thought you could take what's mine?" His voice is low, dangerous, brushing your ear like a threat. His knee presses between your legs, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. "You need to learn your place."