Xavier's shadow engulfed the threshold, the stench of gun oil and wintergreen chewing tobacco clinging to his henchmen. Luna's pulse hammered against her ribs as the dying woman's blood seeped through her sleeve - warm where Aunt Lin's frail body had gone cold. "She needs plasma, not your theatrics," she hissed, pressing a makeshift bandage against the old woman's rattling chest.
His laughter skittered across moldering floorboards. "Always the Florence Nightingale act." A snap of fingers sent guards hauling Aunt Lin's limp form toward a black van idling in the snow. "Don't worry, kitten. My clinic's got excellent... containment facilities."
The slam of the door echoed like a coffin lid. Moonlight through grimy windows striped Xavier's face as he backed her toward the rusted bedframe, fingers working his belt buckle with practiced ease. "Remember our engagement party?" Cold metal kissed her throat - his signet ring bearing the Su family crest. "You looked so pure in white. Makes me wonder what color you'll bleed."
Luna's trembling fingers found the acupuncture needle sewn into her sleeve hem. She let her body go slack, a tear slipping free with calculated precision. "You're crushing my windpipe," she rasped, feeling his grip loosen fractionally.
His overcoat hit the floor in a whisper of cashmere. "No more delays, my lo-"
Silver flashed.
Xavier's palm cracked against her wrist, the needle clattering into shadows. "Did you think I'd forget your little trick with the fire poker?" Spittle dotted her cheek as he leaned close. "You've always been slow to lea-"
Her knee found his groin with surgical accuracy.
As he crumpled, Luna's boots skidded on blood-smeared floorboards. The doorknob turned too slowly, frost sealing it shut. Xavier's weight crushed her against splintered wood, his breath hot and sour against her neck. "Fight all you want," he growled, teeth scraping her collarbone. "This cage was built for wild things."
The world dissolved into a blur of tearing fabric and copper-tinged saliva.
Then - thunder.
Not from the gathering storm, but the door exploding inward in a shower of sawdust and snowflakes. Caleb Thorn stood framed in the wreckage, his tailored wool coat billowing like a raven's wings. Six bodyguards materialized from the swirling frost, red laser sights dancing across Xavier's torso.
"Release." The single word carried the weight of glaciers calving. "Her."
Xander strolled through the carnage, casually stepping over a groaning guard. "Pro tip, buddy," he drawled, spinning a combat knife across his knuckles. "When the lady says no?" The blade thunked into the wall an inch from Xavier's ear. "She means ask her husband first."
Jaden adjusted his glasses, tablet glowing in the gloom. "Your offshore accounts just became Swiss cheese, Mr. Su. I'd start considering retirement options."
Recognition dawned in Xavier's widening eyes as Caleb approached. Every step echoed like a judge's gavel.
The billionaire's gloved hand tilted Luna's chin upward, revealing the blossoming bruise on her throat. His thumb brushed the bite mark with terrifying gentleness. "You let this cockroach touch what's mine?"
Luna's choked laugh surprised them both. "He was... impatient... to meet you."
Caleb's smile could've flash-frozen the room. He lifted her effortlessly, her torn blouse momentarily forgotten under the heat of his gaze. At the threshold, he paused.
"Wait!" Xavier's shout cracked. "Who the hell are you to-"
"Her first lesson in consequences." Caleb didn't bother turning. "Jaden? Burn this rat's nest."
The limousine's heated leather seared Luna's exposed skin. She fought the urge to curl into herself as Caleb produced a monogrammed handkerchief, methodically cleaning dried blood from her fingernails.
"Aunt Lin?"
"Receiving better care than the President." His fingers lingered on her pulse point. "Though I'm told she keeps asking for her 'little phoenix.'"
Luna's resolve crumbled. The scent of his cedarwood cologne mingled with adrenaline shakes as she blurted, "Why?"
Caleb's mouth found the unbruised side of her neck, the kiss equal parts possession and benediction. "You wear my scars better than pearls." The partition rose with a hushed whisper. "Now let me show you how a real man claims what's his."
Outside, flames licked at the winter sky as the limousine purred toward the city. In the flickering light, Luna's reflection showed a woman torn between fury and forbidden relief - her fingers already twisting in Caleb's hair.
Cobalt eyes trapped her like pinned butterflies. Caleb's gaze held none of the limousine's plush warmth - glaciers shifted in those irises, fracturing light into dangerous shards. Luna's next breath crystallized in her lungs as his thumb grazed the healing bite mark beneath her ear.
"I..." The word emerged smoke-thin. Neon from passing storefronts bled through tinted windows, painting his collarbones alternating streaks of vermilion and cobalt. "Shouldn't you be..."
"Grateful?" His knuckle traced her jawline with lethal precision. "That's what you were taught to say, wasn't it? When men take what they want?"
The limousine hit a pothole. Luna's knee brushed his thigh, the contact sparking twin flinches. Caleb's chuckle vibrated against her temple. "Careful, little liar. Even accidents have consequences tonight."
She twisted toward the partition, throat working around unspoken protests. His fingers closed over her wrist - not restraining, merely present. Like a jeweler assessing stolen diamonds. "Look at me when you lie."
Static electricity danced between them as she turned. His pupils dilated fractionally, betraying what the controlled sneer denied.
"Thank you." The words tasted of hospital antiseptic and childhood recitations. "For... intervening."
Cold metal kissed her throat. Caleb's tie clip pressed just shy of bruising as he reeled her closer. "Intervening?" His breath smelled of single-malt regret. "You mistake me for some white knight sniffing after damsel's perfume." The clip slid downward, parting buttons with surgical indifference. "I collect what's mine."
Luna's palm connected with his cheek in a crack that froze time. Three heartbeats passed before his tongue prodded the blossoming redness.
"Better." He captured her trembling hand, pressing it against his racing carotid pulse. "Now we're both honest."
The limousine slowed. Luna scrambled across butter-soft leather, torn blouse gaping. Caleb made no move to follow, though his gaze tracked every shift of lace-edged satin.
"Run along then." He nodded toward the hospital's glowing entrance. "Tend your broken sparrow." A diamond-encrusted flask appeared in his hand. "We'll continue your... gratitude... when she's tucked in."
ICU lighting bleached the world sterile. Luna's fingers hovered above Aunt Lin's wrist - papery skin mapped with IV lines and fading henna patterns. Monitors sang their electronic lullaby, almost drowning the whisper of morphine through plastic tubes.
"Eat."
She didn't need to turn. Caleb's reflection loomed in the observation window - sleeves rolled past ink-black tattoos, hair still disheveled from her fingers. Xander's muted laughter carried through the door.
"Sister-in-law! You planning to glare those dumplings into submission?" The mercenary spun a switchblade across his knuckles, grin sharp as his blade. "Boss had them flown in from Shanghai. Show some..."
Jaden's tablet connected with Xander's ribs. "The term is 'culinary appreciation.'" The hacker adjusted his glasses, nodding toward untouched bamboo steamers. "Approximately 37% cooler than optimal consumption temperature."
Luna's stomach rebelled at the scent of truffle oil and memories - childhood winters warmed by Aunt Lin's congee. She reached for the thermos instead.
Cinnamon.
Her fingers stilled. The exact blend she'd burned trying to impress Mother's investors at fourteen.
"Mr. Su's compound presented unique logistical challenges." Jaden's reflection materialized at her shoulder. "Thermal imaging showed three underground escape routes. Fascinating structural..."
"Enough." Caleb's shadow swallowed the room. Xander's blade stilled mid-spin.
The billionaire's knuckle brushed a cooling dumpling. "You prefer them fried?"
Luna's laugh shattered like dropped porcelain. "I prefer not being followed."
"Yet here we are." He claimed the visitor's chair, long legs bracketing her trembling knees. "Feed your ghost. Then we'll discuss your disappearing act."
Midnight found them in the private elevator, antiseptic lingering in Luna's nostrils. Caleb's thumb traced the security camera's blind spot - a silent warning.
"Why?" The question escaped before she could cage it.
The doors opened to penthouse darkness. He backed her against chilled marble, stolen phone glowing between them. Dozens of unread notifications lit his face corpse-blue.
"You mistake desperation for devotion." His teeth found her earlobe. "I don't chase, Luna. I allow recapture."
Her knees hit mattress. Caleb's tie slithered free, binding her wrists with silk-lined cruelty. "Let's review your lessons, shall we?"
Cold metal kissed her inner thigh - his phone capturing her gasp. "First principle." The shutter clicked. "Accountability."
She twisted, satin tearing. "Delete that!"
"Second." His knee parted hers. "Consequences." The phone clattered aside as his lips charted her racing pulse. "Shall we discuss third?"
Dawn crept through bulletproof glass. Somewhere below, the city stirred. Luna watched light gild Caleb's sleeping face, his fingers still possessively curled around her stolen hairpin.
On the nightstand, her phone buzzed with an unsaved number.
Unknown: He's not what you think. Meet me.
The screen darkened. In its reflection, Caleb's smile sharpened - awake and waiting.
...To Be Continued