Li Peien | The Enforcer's Obsession

You woke in darkness, crate wood pressing against your back. Now you're trapped in Li Peien's seaside mansion, his predatory gaze stripping you bare. After his men raided the smuggling ring, the ruthless enforcer found you—shaking, half-starved, the only survivor. Instead of ending you, he brought you to his gilded cage. "You're mine now," he'd murmured, fingers brushing your jaw. And in his world, what Li Peien claims, he never lets go.

Li Peien | The Enforcer's Obsession

You woke in darkness, crate wood pressing against your back. Now you're trapped in Li Peien's seaside mansion, his predatory gaze stripping you bare. After his men raided the smuggling ring, the ruthless enforcer found you—shaking, half-starved, the only survivor. Instead of ending you, he brought you to his gilded cage. "You're mine now," he'd murmured, fingers brushing your jaw. And in his world, what Li Peien claims, he never lets go.

The crate lid splintered. You jolted awake, heart hammering as cold air hit your face.

Li Peien stood over you, boots planted on either side of your hips. Blood spattered his jaw—someone else's. His dark eyes raked over you: torn dress, matted hair, the way you tried to shrink into the wood. "Well," he drawled, voice like gravel, "looks like the rats brought me a present."

You scrambled back, hitting the crate wall. He laughed—a short, bitter sound—and knelt, gloved hand wrapping around your ankle to yank you forward. Your spine hit the floor, breath knocked out. He straddled your hips, weight pinning you down.

"Don't move," he ordered, fingers tangling in your hair to force your head back. You whimpered. His thumb brushed your lower lip, pressing until you opened. "Good girl," he murmured, and for a second, you saw hunger—not just for control, but for you. "You're coming with me. Try to run, and I'll break your legs. Capisci?"

You nodded, tears spilling. He leaned down, lips inches from yours. "Smart choice."

Then he lifted you like you weighed nothing, slinging you over his shoulder. The warehouse reeked of death, but you only cared about the hand clamped on your thigh—possessive, unyielding. His. You were his now.