The basement of the Zhao residence.
The darkness was almost absolute. Blood and rust tainted the stale air; chains clattered against one another. Anyone stumbling upon the room might have mistaken it for a crime scene.
“Enough...” A man's voice scraped through the dark, hoarse beyond recognition.
A quiet laugh answered him. “Gong Zheng. Now I understand why Gong Shiwen treasures you so much. In his position, I wouldn't let you go either.”
Chains dragged across the floor again. In the faint light, the prisoner's features became visible: short black hair, sharply defined brows, a straight nose, and a face that looked anything but submissive.
He still had the strength and build of the Alpha he had been born. Yet fifteen days of confinement and abuse had left him exhausted, his breathing uneven.
The sweet pheromones imposed on him seemed at odds with everything else about him.
Gong Zheng gave a low laugh and raised his chin toward the man crouching at eye level before him. “Give me a cigarette.”
The man narrowed his eyes. After studying him for a while, he slowly took a pack from his pocket, tapped out a cigarette, and offered it. Gong Zheng caught it between his lips and waited for a light.
Click.
The lighter's small flame briefly illuminated their faces. The man's fixed stare was unmistakably possessive.
Gong Zheng lifted a shackled hand, took the cigarette between his fingers, and drew deeply. He tilted his head back and let the smoke drift out. A pale haze gathered between them.
Only after smoking more than half did he return to the man's earlier remark. “I'm just someone they altered. Nothing about this is real. Even my pheromones are synthesized with drugs.” His smile turned scornful. Leaning forward, he patted the man's handsome face with deliberate insolence. “Didn't know that was your taste, Mr. Zhao.”
The insult did not make Zhao withdraw. He swore, snatched away the cigarette, and grabbed Gong Zheng, forcing another unwanted kiss on him.
When he finally released him, Zhao Zhouming was still breathing hard. He made another ugly claim on the man he had held captive for the past fifteen days, speaking as though captivity gave him ownership.
“You like me that much? What a problem.” Gong Zheng raised an eyebrow and gave him a mocking whistle. His next words brought Zhao back to reality, one blow at a time. “Today's the deadline you agreed on with Gong Shiwen. You have to take me back to him yourself.”
As expected, Zhao Zhouming's expression darkened. He stared at Gong Zheng for several seconds, then shut his eyes and clenched his jaw. When he stood, the shadows concealed his face. His voice sounded as though he had reached a decision. “You're staying with me. Wait here. I'll go negotiate with him.”
He turned to leave. Just before he reached the basement door, Gong Zheng called after him. “Mr. Zhao, how about unlocking these first?” He shook the heavy chains around his wrists.
Ever since Gong Shiwen had struck his deal with Zhao Zhouming and handed him over, Gong Zheng had been kept in this room. He had researched Zhao's habits and prepared as thoroughly as he could. Even so, the confinement and mistreatment had pushed him close to his limits, despite the physical resilience he retained from being an Alpha.
Zhao stopped at the door. “I told you to wait until I get back. You're not going anywhere.”
The door slammed, sealing him inside the windowless dark.
Deathly silence settled over the room.
Then came a derisive snort, followed by the sickening sound of a joint giving way. Gong Zheng had dislocated his own wrist. He slipped free of the restraint with the practiced calm of someone who had done it countless times before.
He kicked aside the chains that had held him for almost half a month, reset his wrist, and rubbed the reddened skin. After flexing his hand to ease the discomfort, he crossed to a large piece of equipment and crouched. His fingers searched beneath it and emerged holding a miniature data cloner.
Gong Zheng smiled. Still there.
He headed for the door.
Clothes? Zhao Zhouming had denied him even those throughout his captivity.
He tried the handle. Locked, of course. He clicked his tongue. The bastard was thorough. Apparently chains weren't enough; he needed a locked door as well.
It would take more than that to stop him. Gong Zheng had faced this problem often enough before. He searched the dark room for something he could use, eventually finding a thin, rusty piece of wire in a corner. With a grin, he returned to the door and bent to the lock, listening carefully as he worked.
At last, a clear click broke the silence.
Open.
He tossed the wire aside. He wasn't worried about Zhao Zhouming finding it. Quite the opposite: he wanted the man to know his little tricks had never been enough to hold him. Gong Zheng could leave whenever he chose.
The provocation would probably leave Zhao furious enough to want to strangle him. Gong Zheng pushed the door open and walked straight out.
A bright study greeted him. Only then did he realize that he hadn't been in a basement at all. It was a concealed room.
A hidden door stood behind the neatly arranged bookshelves. That was where he had spent the past fifteen days.
Was luck finally on his side?
He had expected escaping the basement and getting into Zhao Zhouming's study to take some effort. Instead, one step through the door had brought him exactly where he needed to be.
His sharp gaze swept the room, then settled on the laptop on the desk.