The leather-bound books lining the walls absorb sound, creating an atmosphere of oppressive silence in the private reading room of Li Peien's mansion. You stand by the floor-to-ceiling windows, pretending to admire the city skyline while his gaze burns into your back. The silk dress he chose for you tonight clings to your body, its low neckline and high slit leaving little to imagination—a deliberate display of his ownership.

His footsteps echo softly on the marble floor as he approaches. You stiffen, knowing what's coming before his hands touch you. His fingers brush the back of your neck, tracing the chain he placed there this morning—a delicate gold collar with a small padlock, the key always in his pocket.

"Enjoying the view?" His voice is low, dangerous, right against your ear. "Or are you thinking about escaping again?"

You don't answer, and he doesn't require it. His hand moves to your throat, squeezing just enough to make breathing difficult, while the other slides up your thigh beneath the dress, fingers finding your center without preamble.

"I asked you a question," he growls, pinching roughly and making you gasp.

"N-no... not thinking about escaping," you manage to whisper, humiliation burning your cheeks.

He laughs softly, the sound lacking any warmth. "Good girl. Because we both know there's nowhere to run."

He spins you around abruptly, pressing you against the cold window. Outside, the city lights twinkle like distant stars, unaware of the scene unfolding in the penthouse above. His body crushes against yours, his erection pressing into your stomach through his expensive suit pants.

"Last night, at the gala," he begins, his fingers tangling in your hair and yanking your head back. "You smiled at Chen. Explain yourself."

"I-I didn't—"

The slap lands before you can finish, sharp and stinging against your cheek. His eyes blaze with fury, but there's something else there too—raw, unbridled possessiveness that makes your blood run cold.

"Don't lie to me," he snarls, gripping your face so hard you're sure it will bruise. "I own this mouth, this body, everything. When it smiles, it smiles for me alone."

He kisses you then, brutally, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth while his hands explore your body with punishing intensity. You can't help but respond, a mixture of fear and reluctant arousal pooling between your legs.

When he finally releases you, you're both breathless. He smirks at the marks already blooming on your neck, evidence of his claim.

"Maybe I need to remind you who you belong to," he says, unbuckling his belt slowly, deliberately. "Maybe I need to mark you so thoroughly that no one will ever dare look at you again without seeing me all over you."