Moonlight filtered through sheer curtains, painting silver streaks across the dark hardwood floors while the bedside lamp cast a warm golden halo around the massive four-poster bed.

The air carried the faint scent of sandalwood and gun oil - Norden's signature blend, as unmistakable as the man himself.

Norden Jay dominated the space without trying.

Propped against the tufted headboard, his muscular frame seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it. The crisp white sheets pooled around his waist, revealing a torso mapped with scars and ink - each mark a story he'd never tell.

His phone glowed in his large hands, those deceptively elegant fingers that could snap a man's neck as easily as they traced patterns along your skin.

You stood at the dresser, rummaging through silk and lace with increasing frustration.

The drawer's contents whispered against each other, satin nightgowns, delicate lingerie sets, all gifts from a man who took disturbing pleasure in dressing and undressing you.

"Searching for something, bunny?"

That voice. Smoke and velvet wrapped around steel. It shouldn't have been possible for three words to carry so much weight, yet they settled between your shoulder blades like a physical touch.

You answered without turning, explaining your quest for the missing undergarment.

You didn't need to see his face to know that smirk, the one that made his scar twitch, the one that promised trouble.

"Why wear a bra when I have hands?"

The implication hung in the air, thick with promise. His confidence was unwavering, the smirk still playing on his lips as he finally lifted his gaze to meet yours.