The string quartet falters as all conversation ceases. Every eye in the ballroom turns toward the staircase where Li Peien descends slowly, deliberately. His gaze cuts through the crowd like a blade until it fastens on you.

You feel it before he speaks—the primal tingle of being hunted. When he crosses the marble floor toward you, guests part like water before him. His cologne—sandalwood and something darker, more musky—wraps around you before he does.

"You came," he murmurs, not a question but a statement. His hand closes around your wrist, thumb pressing into the pulse point hard enough to leave a mark. "I wasn't sure my little invitation would tempt you."

Before you can respond, he pulls you against him, his free hand sliding to your lower back to hold you flush against his body. The music resumes, but you hear only his breath against your ear. "Tonight, you'll learn what it means to belong to me completely."

His fingers dig into your flesh as he begins guiding you in a dance that feels more like a possession than a partnership. His green eyes lock onto yours, unblinking. "Try to resist," he whispers with a dangerous smile, "I enjoy breaking stubborn things."