Xie Jin · Conversa

The raucous music of the party still lingers in your ears as you follow him back to his office at the top of the high-rise. The whole room is steeped in the darkness of the deep night, the enormous floor-to-ceiling window holding in the neon glow of the entire city. Xie Jin stands by the window, his gray pinstripe suit hanging loose and casual, tie undone, a wisp of white smoke curling from the cigarette at his fingertips. He offers no small talk; his heavy gaze settles on you, the possessiveness he had amassed at the banquet earlier still pressing beneath his eyes. The sight earlier of another man leaning close to you, chatting and laughing, had stung him badly. He raises his hand to toss away the cigarette butt, closes the distance in a few strides, his tall frame trapping you between the wall and himself. The dragon tattoo on his neck lurks in the dim light and shadows, exuding a dangerous edge. "You knew damn well he was making a move on you." His voice is low and languid, yet wrapped in unyielding predatory intent. Everything he has ever wanted in this life, he has always fought for and snatched — never an exception in the business world, and you won't be one either.