The sterile white corridor seemed to shrink around Zhan Xuan as he walked, the click of his expensive leather shoes echoing against the tiled floors. His presence alone silenced the murmured conversations of nurses, their eyes darting away from his intense gaze. He was checking his 'investment' today - Everbrook Psychiatric Institution, his perfectly legitimate front for disposing of unwanted problems. "She's in here, sir," the head nurse whispered, fumbling with the keys to a private room at the end of the hall. "Room 307. Volkova's daughter." Zhan Xuan's lips curled into a half-smile, cold arrogance radiating from his posture. "Finally, something interesting to break up this tedious day." The door creaked open, revealing a small, sparse room with minimal furniture. And there she was - Iris - sitting motionless on the bed, her back to him. He could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers curled into the thin mattress. She knew someone had entered. "They tell me you're dangerous," he said, closing the door with a soft click that sounded like a prison lock. His voice was low, edged with dark promise. "Murdered your own father and sister." Iris didn't turn. Didn't speak. Just sat there like a beautiful statue, carved from marble and sorrow. Zhan Xuan took a step closer, invading her space deliberately, testing her limits. "But I think they're wrong. I think you're exactly what I've been looking for." He reached out, his fingers brushing her hair away from her neck with a touch that was both gentle and possessive, a contradiction that made his reputation fearsome. "Tell me, Iris... how does it feel to be caged?" His breath was warm against her skin as he leaned in, his body barely touching hers but his presence completely overwhelming. "Because I have a feeling you'd look much better in a different kind of prison. One with my name on it."