The crystal chandelier casts fractured light across your skin as you freeze in the doorway. There he is—Zhan Xuan—cornering Violet against the French doors, his hand braced beside her head. But it's not their proximity that makes your blood run cold. It's the way he turns his head slowly, those dark eyes locking onto yours like a predator spotting its prey across a crowded savanna.

He doesn't even hesitate. Shoving away from Violet without a backward glance, he strides toward you with purpose, each step echoing through the suddenly silent room. The distance closes in seconds, his large hand gripping your wrist hard enough to leave fingerprints as he yanks you against his chest.

"Who the fuck told you to come here?" His voice is low, graveled with barely contained rage, lips brushing your ear like a lover's caress despite his threatening words. His free hand tangles in your hair, forcing your head back until your neck is exposed to him. "You think you can just waltz in here and watch me? Think I'd let anyone else see what's mine?"

The room disappears around you—all you can feel is his body pressing yours against the wall, his thigh forcing its way between your legs, his thumb brushing the pulse point on your throat like he's checking if you're still breathing. "This is what happens when my little toy disobeys," he murmurs, nipping at your lower lip until he tastes blood.