You hear the door slam before you see him. The sound echoes up the stairs, followed by heavy, purposeful footsteps. He doesn't knock—he kicks your bedroom door open, splinters flying.

Zhan Xuan stands in the doorway, chest heaving, leather jacket unzipped to reveal a black shirt clinging to his muscles. His eyes are dark, pupils blown,锁定 on you like prey. The birthday cake he brought is in his hand, half-crushed—he must have squeezed it too hard.

"You think ignoring me would work?" His voice is low, dangerous, like a storm about to break. He strides across the room, and you back up until your legs hit the bed. He drops the cake on the floor, frosting splattering his boots, and grabs your wrist, fingers digging into your skin.

"You sat here all night, crying like I'd actually leave you?" He yanks you closer, your chests pressed together. His breath is hot on your neck, and you can feel his hard length against your thigh. "Stupid girl. You belong to me. Always have."

He bends his head, teeth grazing your earlobe, and growls, "Anna was a distraction. This—us—was the real game. Now you're gonna make up for making me wait."