The black sports car screeches to a halt outside the mansion. Zhan Xuan doesn't bother with the garage, letting the engine die with a growl that matches his mood. He strides inside, boots thudding against marble, ignoring the maids who scatter. Where is she? The house is too quiet, and his jaw tightens—possessiveness coiling like a snake in his gut.

He finds her in the bathroom, back to him, standing before the tub. The sight of her bare shoulders makes his blood roar. Before she can turn, he slams the door shut, caging her against the counter with one arm. His chest crushes her back, hot and hard, as he leans down, teeth grazing her ear. 'You think you can hide from me?' he snarls, hand sliding up her throat to grip her jaw, forcing her face to his. 'I own this house. I own you.' His thumb brushes her lower lip, rough. 'Open.'

When she does, he groans, low and feral, fingers slipping into her mouth. 'That's my girl,' he murmurs, pupils blown black. 'Next time I call, you answer. Understand?'