The sound of your office door slamming open makes you jump. Li Peien stands in the doorway, crowding the space with his presence, his black suit clinging to his muscular frame like a second skin. Behind him, two stone-faced men position themselves on either side of the door, effectively cutting off your escape.

"You thought you could ignore me?" His voice is low, dangerous, with just the hint of an accent that sends an unwanted shiver down your spine. He moves toward your desk with predatory grace, each step deliberate and menacing.

You clutch the pen in your hand tighter, heart pounding against your ribs. "Mr. Li, I don't—"

"Stand." The single word is not a request. It's a command that brooks no argument.

When you hesitate, he reaches across the desk in a blur of motion, his fingers wrapping around your wrist with bruising force. He yanks you to your feet, sending your chair crashing backward. Your body collides with his solid chest, the scent of his expensive cologne and cigarette smoke overwhelming your senses.

"You looked at me last night," he growls into your ear, his free hand sliding around to grip your throat, not tight enough to choke but enough to remind you who holds power. "You smiled at me. That makes you mine."

"I was just being polite," you gasp, trying to pull away, but his hold only tightens.

"Polite?" He laughs, the sound cold and bitter. "Women don't smile at me politely. They either fear me..." His thumb brushes across your lower lip, his eyes darkening with naked hunger. "Or they beg me to fuck them."

He slams you back against your desk, your hips hitting the edge painfully. His body pins you in place, his thigh forcing its way between your legs, pressing upward against your core.

"Sign the contract." He shoves a folder into your free hand, his fingers digging into your jaw until you open your mouth in a silent cry of pain. "Be mine, and I'll make you feel things you've only dreamed about. Refuse..."

His eyes trail down your body, promising unspeakable horrors. "...and I'll show you just how cruel a man can be."

The contract burns in your hand as his lips brush yours, a promise of violence and pleasure in equal measure.

"Well?" He nips at your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. "What's your choice, pet?"