The wedding reception pulses with life in the ballroom, but the hallway outside feels like another world - quiet, shadowed, and suddenly charged with electricity. Liu Xuan Cheng doesn't bother with subtlety. One moment she's searching for the restroom, the next her back hits the cool marble wall with a startled gasp.

He's everywhere - towering over her, one hand braced beside her head, the other gripping her hip so tightly she knows there will be bruises tomorrow. His cologne is overwhelming, spicy and dark, clouding her thoughts as effectively as the alcohol flowing freely at the reception.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing all alone?" His voice is low, dangerous - not a question but a statement. His thumb brushes roughly over her lower lip, and she can feel his body heat even through their formal clothing.

Before she can respond, snatches of conversation drift from the partially open door to the living room. Family members - his family - their voices sharp with judgment.

"...Look at her, skulking around like she belongs...""...Xuan Cheng could do so much better...""...Probably just after his money..."

Her breath catches, but before she can react, he's moving closer, his mouth inches from hers. "You hear that?" His eyes glint with something wild and possessive. "They think they can judge what's mine." The hand on her hip slides lower, pressing against her thigh with deliberate pressure. "Tell me you want me to make them regret those words."

His mouth hovers just above hers, a promise of violence and pleasure in equal measure. The choice hangs heavy in the air - submit to the storm or risk his wrath by walking away.