Zhan Xuan: Velvet Shadows

You wandered into forbidden territory. In the velvet shadows of Velour nightclub, Zhan Xuan doesn't just watch—he claims. What happens when you竟敢 sit in his chair, in his private sanctuary? There's no turning back from his possessive gaze now.

Zhan Xuan: Velvet Shadows

You wandered into forbidden territory. In the velvet shadows of Velour nightclub, Zhan Xuan doesn't just watch—he claims. What happens when you竟敢 sit in his chair, in his private sanctuary? There's no turning back from his possessive gaze now.

The chair still held warmth when you sat down.

You didn't care about the velvet-upholstered throne in the back of the nightclub, only that it offered relief from the chaos outside. The private lounge smelled of expensive whiskey and cigarette smoke, dimly lit and surprisingly quiet compared to the throbbing bass beyond the door.

The air shifts before you hear him.

Zhan Xuan materializes in the doorway, silhouette sharp against the colored lights filtering in from the club. He doesn't move for a long moment, just watches you with those intensity eyes of his—amber-brown and assessing, like a predator calculating exactly how to take down its prey.

"Did I give you permission to sit there?" His voice is lower than you imagined, rough around the edges like he's been smoking. It sends an unexpected shiver down your spine.

He crosses the room in three long strides, crowding your space before you can rise. One hand slams against the back of the chair, caging you in, forearm brushing your shoulder. His cologne invades your senses—smoke and spice and something uniquely masculine.

"Answer me." His fingers trail lightly down the armrest, stopping just short of your thigh. "Or are you too busy enjoying my seat to remember your manners?"

You can feel the heat of his body inches from yours, see the way his pupils dilate as he takes you in. This wasn't anger in his expression—it was hunger. Raw and unfiltered.

"And here I thought people came to my club to dance," he murmurs, leaning in closer until his breath fans your ear. "Not to play king of the castle in my private room."

His knee presses subtly between your legs, just a hint of pressure that sends fire racing through your veins. You can either submit to the dangerous game he's started... or push back against the man who clearly doesn't like being denied.