Chapter 2: No Way Out

The city was alive beneath her feet.

Mei stepped out of the metro station and into the heart of Shanghai's French Concession district. A veil of mist hung in the air, softening the city's sharp edges. Lights from cafés and designer storefronts shimmered in the puddles like scattered jewels. The three overhead whispered with rain, their wet leaves catching glints of neon.

It was beautiful-cinematic. The kind of scene she should've been photographing. The kind of places her followers expected to see on her feed.

But her camera stayed slung over one shoulder, untouched.

She couldn't stop thinking about him.

That man.

The one who had looked at her like he'd seen straight through the skin of her thoughts. Like her story was already written on his palm and he planned to rewrite it, line by line. It had lasted only a second-maybe less-but the feeling lingered.

It wasn't just the way he looked at her. It was what she felt in the space between that look and now. Like something had shifted. Like something invisible had been drawn taut.

She tried to shake it off. Probably just a businessman, she told herself. Too much cologne and not enough manners. She'd seen plenty of them in airports. The ones who thought a passing glance was an invitation.

Still... she couldn't deny it. The moment had unsettled her.

Her phone buzzed.

Mia: You landed safely, right? Don't disappear and marry some billionaire, okay??

Mei laughed under her breath, thumbs flying.

Mei: No promises. Shanghai is wild.

A gust of wind pulled at her scarf as she wandered deeper into a quiet alley, the kind that felt like secret. Boutique windows glowed with light, showcasing handmade ceramics, rare teas, vintage jewelry. The soft patter of rain on the cobblestones was the only sound.

And then-

That feeling again.

She stopped.

Not from cold. Something behind her skin.

Her hand hovered near her phone. She turned slowly.

Empty street.

A delivery bike whirred past at the alley's far end. A cat slinked out from behind a row of flower pots. Nothing sinister. Nothing at all.

"Get it together, Mei," she muttered.

She took another step. Still, pulse fluttered. The sensation of being seen clung to her like a second skin.

Across the street, behind the tinted windows of a sleek black SUV, Xiang Yu watched.

She didn't move like the others. She wasn't careful yet. Her expressions were too open, too unguarded. She looked at the city like it was a gift.

That wouldn't last. This place had teeth.

But it wasn't just her innocence that drew him. It was the pull. A current beneath his ribs that had begun the moment he saw her at the airport, suitcase in one hand, hair tucked behind her ear.

He'd watched hundreds of women move through this city. Yet, he trusted none.

But Mei Ling... she was different.

Not in a way he could explain. Not in a way that made sense.

There was no lust in him now. That would come later. What lived inside him at this moment was darker. More primal.

Possession.

He leaned forward slightly, watching the way she paused in front of a tea house window, tilting her head in curiosity like she could hear a song no one else could.

"Track her movements," he said.

His assistant, seated beside him with a tablet in hand, glanced over and hesitated. "Yes, sir."

Xiang leaned back, gaze never leaving her.

She had no idea who he was. No idea what world she'd just stepped into.

But she would learn.

Soon.

And there would be no way out.

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