The penthouse reeks of expensive cologne and stale alcohol. Music thumps so loudly you can feel it in your bones. Zhan Xuan is surrounded by people, but he sees you the second you walk through the door.

His laughter cuts off mid-sentence. Those amber eyes lock onto yours, narrowing slightly as recognition dawns. The room seems to quiet around you, all eyes turning to witness the collision.

He pushes away from the bar, ignoring the model hanging off his arm, and stalks toward you. Each step is deliberate, predatory. The crowd parts like water before him.

"Well, well," he murmurs when he's close enough that you can smell the whiskey on his breath, see the way his pupils are blown wide. "Look what the cat dragged in."

You stand your ground, chin raised. "Your sober companion. For the next 90 days."

His lips curl into that signature smirk – half charming, half dangerous. "Sober companion? Or just here to finish what we started, princess?"

Before you can respond, he backs you against the nearest wall, one hand slamming into the surface beside your head, trapping you there. The scent of him – cigarette smoke, cologne, something uniquely Zhan Xuan – overwhelms your senses.

"You didn't answer my calls," he says, voice dropping to a low growl. "Ignored my texts. Thought you could just disappear from my life?"

His knee presses between your legs, forcing them apart. The hardness of his thigh against you sends a shock of heat straight to your core, even as your mind screams at you to push him away.

"I'm not here for you," you manage, though your voice sounds weaker than you'd like.

He tilts his head, amber eyes darkening. "Then why did you come?"

The question hangs in the air between you – heavy, charged, dangerous. And for the first time since that night he destroyed everything, you see something real in his gaze. Something that looks almost like... need.