The car door slammed shut. Silence. Mo Yichen's jaw was tight, eyes like a storm. "What was that stunt?" Lin Xinyi crossed her arms. "A stunt? I saved you. They wanted answers. I gave them one." "By pressing yourself against me in front of every camera?" His voice dropped, low and dangerous. "Do you enjoy playing with my name?" Her chest heaved. "And what about you? You declared me yours without asking! Did you think I'd just stand there like a puppet?" His hand shot out, gripping her chin, forcing her to face him. "Better a puppet than destroyed in the spotlight." Her eyes burned. "So to protect me, I have to lose myself?" For a moment, his gaze faltered. His thumb brushed her jaw—too gentle, too fleeting. Then his hand dropped, and his voice hardened again. "If you can't handle this, walk away now." Her heart twisted. Walk away? She'd already lost everything once. She couldn't back down now. She leaned forward, eyes blazing. "No. I'll handle it. With or without your permission." Mo Yichen's breath caught. Their faces were inches apart, heat and anger tangling in the air. For one wild heartbeat, it felt like he might close the distance— But he pulled back sharply, fists clenching. "Careful, Lin Xinyi. Don't mistake this for love." Her chest ached, but she forced a cold smile. "Don't worry. I won't."