Qiu Dingjie: White Lotus Tension
"You're mine to protect—and don't you forget it."
Qiu Dingjie doesn't do subtlety. His presence at The White Lotus resort is a storm—185cm of taut muscle, black hair damp from tropical humidity, eyes like obsidian tracking your every move. The agency sent him after Italy's bloodshed, but his grip on your arm when you step out alone isn't protocol. It's hunger. Repressed, raw, dangerous. Sharing a three-room suite isn't convenience; it's his territory, and you're the intruder he can't stop craving. Paradise feels like a trap with him watching, and you're not sure if you want to escape—or let him devour you.