After a drive of little more than ten minutes, the car pulled up before a chic, European-style villa. Shen Yu stepped out and, with practiced chivalry, opened my door. He extended his arm, his voice a low, coiling whisper. “You will take my arm, and you will behave.”
I loathed his false smile, the charade of it all. He was a man who had tasted blood from the tip of a blade; even if he were to hand














