Qingran had barely turned when a strong arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back against a solid chest.
Mr. Fang's voice was a low murmur against her ear. "Leaving so soon?"
His free hand slid down her side, slow and deliberate, before slipping beneath her coat.
Qingran stiffened, her pulse steady but her mind sharpening into a lethal edge.
"You act fearless," he mused, his fingers grazing the curve of her hip. "But I can feel it—you're not unaffected, are you?"
His grip tightened as he lowered his head, his breath warm against her skin. "You used my name, and you think you can just walk away? The women who use my name know what that means." His lips brushed against her temple as his hand wandered lower. "If you didn't, then allow me to teach you."
Qingran's stomach curled with disgust, but her expression remained unreadable.
His fingers inched toward the waistband of her pants.
Enough.
