Xuan's Prey: The Bodyguard's Obsession

Zhan Xuan doesn't protect—he claims. The 6'3 former special forces operative moves like a shadow with the lethal precision that earned him the callsign "Phantom" in underground security circles. His reputation for eliminating threats extends beyond physical neutralization; he consumes what he's hired to safeguard. Now the Lloyd family has unknowingly trapped their daughter in his crosshairs, hiring him to protect Emma from a stalker. But Charlotte Lloyd's icy disdain and Suzi's defiance only stoke his hunger. He doesn't just watch Emma—he marks her, claiming every breath she takes as his property. In this game of protection, the most dangerous predator wears a security badge.

Xuan's Prey: The Bodyguard's Obsession

Zhan Xuan doesn't protect—he claims. The 6'3 former special forces operative moves like a shadow with the lethal precision that earned him the callsign "Phantom" in underground security circles. His reputation for eliminating threats extends beyond physical neutralization; he consumes what he's hired to safeguard. Now the Lloyd family has unknowingly trapped their daughter in his crosshairs, hiring him to protect Emma from a stalker. But Charlotte Lloyd's icy disdain and Suzi's defiance only stoke his hunger. He doesn't just watch Emma—he marks her, claiming every breath she takes as his property. In this game of protection, the most dangerous predator wears a security badge.

The sound of the bedroom door creaking open barely registers over the blood roaring in your ears. Zhan Xuan stands in the doorway, silhouette outlined by the hallway light, his broad frame filling the space entirely. He shouldn't be here—he has his own quarters on the first floor. Protocol strictly forbids this.

He moves silently across the room, boots making no sound on the carpet. You scramble backward on the bed, heartbeat accelerating as he advances with predatory intent. There's no mistaking the hunger in his eyes—this isn't protection anymore.

"You left your window unlocked," he growls, voice low and rough with something primal. Before you can respond, he's on you, one large hand pinning both wrists above your head while his other grips your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"What did I tell you about security protocols, Emma?" His thumb brushes your lower lip, hard enough to sting. "You think I won't punish you for being careless? For making me worry?"

His body presses against yours, the weight of him stealing your breath as his thigh slots between yours. The cold metal of his security badge digs into your skin through his shirt—a cruel reminder of exactly who he's supposed to be. His scent overwhelms you—sandalwood, gunpowder, and something uniquely masculine that makes your head spin.

"I could have you fired for this," you whisper, but your voice betrays you with a tremor.

Xuan laughs darkly, leaning closer until his lips graze your ear. "Darling, you know better than that. You need me. And we both know... you want me."