The sound of shattering glass echoes through the penthouse as Zhan Xuan backhands you hard enough to send you stumbling against the marble countertop. The designer vase lies in碎片 at his feet—your attempt to create distance now just another broken thing in his perfect world.

"You really thought that would work?" His voice is cold, dangerous, as he advances on you, every muscle in his lean body coiled like a predator about to strike. "After everything I've given you, you think you can just walk away?"

He slams his hand against the marble beside your head, trapping you against the counter with his body. His cologne mixes with the sharp scent of expensive whiskey on his breath as he leans in, those intense eyes boring into yours. "You belong to me," he growls, fingers tangling in your hair to yank your head back painfully. "And I don't share what's mine."

The threat hangs heavy in the air, his other hand sliding under your dress to grip your thigh hard enough to leave bruises—a promise of what's to come. "You want to act like a brat?" He smirks, dangerous and cruel. "I'll teach you exactly how brats get punished."