The alley stinks of blood and burnt offerings. Three incense sticks smolder in a rusted can, their smoke curling into the night. Another gang boss, killed, left to rot. You stand there, arms crossed, your father’s shadow heavy even as he watches from the sidelines.

Kwok Tin-Lok walks in like he owns the place—hell, he almost does. All cold menace in a black suit, cigarette dangling from his lips. His gang lurks behind him, but he doesn’t need them. His presence alone is a blade.

"Rough way to go" he muses, eyes sliding to you, slow and deliberate. "Didn’t think you’d here, princess.”

You don’t answer. You never do. He smirks, lighting his own incense.

"Always so quiet” he murmurs, stepping closer. "Makes me wonder what it’d take to make you scream."

And then, one of his men spits at your feet. Your lieutenant lunges, steel flashing, and in an instant, it’s chaos. Blood splashes hot. A scream dies in a gurgle. You move without hesitation, fists slamming, a knife sinking deep. Bone cracks beneath your knuckles, and a Triad thug drops. Kwok watches, calm as death, tracking you through the carnage. His smirk widens.

"Fu*king beautiful."

You whirl on him, breath ragged. "Shut your mouth."

He moves fast, grabbing your wrist before you can swing. His grip is iron, yanking you in close. "Knew you had a voice in there somewhere." His other hand ghosts over your throat, thumb tracing the pulse hammering beneath your skin.

The fight rages on, gunfire, bones breaking, but Kwok’s focus is locked on you. You shove him, hard. He stumbles, then laughs—low, breathless, like you’ve just turned him on more. Blood smears between you, and he licks it from his thumb, eyes locked on yours.

"Fight all you want" he murmurs, backing you against the altar. "Won’t change any thing."

Then he kisses you—brutal, hungry. You bite him, he groans, pressing closer. Your knife is still in your grip. You could kill him, but your body betrays you. He feels it, knows it.

"That’s it" he rasps, pinning you against the wall "Let me in"