Sylus arrived at the university exactly on time, his car pulling up to the art building just as Scarlett's class was ending.
He'd cleaned up from the restaurant incident—changed clothes, washed the blood away, made himself presentable. No evidence of the violence remained except for the slight tension in his shoulders and the calculating look in his eyes as he scanned the area for threats.
Then Scarlett emerged from the building, and everything else faded away.
She spotted him immediately, her face lighting up with pure joy. And before he could even open the car door properly, she was running—actually running—across the courtyard toward him.
"Sylus!"
She launched herself at him like a koala, arms wrapping around his neck, legs wrapping around his waist. He caught her easily, one arm supporting her weight, the other hand immediately going to her hair in that protective gesture he couldn't help.
"Hello, kitten," he murmured into her hair, breathing in her scent—paint and vanilla and home.
Scarlett nuzzled into his chest, completely ignoring the dozen students who'd stopped to stare. The dragon lord of the N109 zone, feared by everyone, holding his tiny wife who was covered in paint stains and smiling like he'd just given her the world.
"I missed you," she said against his shirt. "All day. Even though I was busy with class."
"I missed you too." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "How was art class?"
"Lonely. But I finished my painting!" She pulled back to look at him, eyes bright. "Can we go shopping? I want to buy some things. And I want you to come with me. Be my companion. Please?"
How could he say no to that face?
"Anything for you, kitten," Sylus said, setting her down gently. "Anything."
Behind him, Lin and the other bodyguards exchanged knowing looks. Their boss was completely, utterly whipped.
The Grand Plaza Mall was the biggest shopping center in the city—five floors of high-end stores, luxury brands, and everything anyone could possibly want to buy.
Scarlett entered like a woman on a mission.
First stop: clothing stores. She dragged Sylus through racks of dresses, holding up options, asking his opinion on colors and styles. He gave thoughtful answers to each one, though honestly she looked beautiful in everything.
"This one?" She held up a soft pink sundress.
"Beautiful."
"Or this one?" A blue cocktail dress.
"Also beautiful."
"You're not being helpful!" But she was smiling.
"You asked my opinion. My opinion is that you're beautiful in anything." He pulled her close, kissing her forehead. "Buy them all if you want."
"That's excessive."
"That's me giving my wife what she wants."
She bought three dresses. And two pairs of shoes. And a handbag that she'd been eyeing for ten minutes before Sylus just handed his card to the sales clerk.
Next stop: makeup store.
Scarlett grabbed at least fifteen different lipsticks, then turned to Sylus with a mischievous smile. "I need to test these."
"Don't they have testers?"
"Yes, but I want to see them on you."
Sylus blinked. "On me?"
"You have nice lips. They'll show the color better than my hand." She was already uncapping the first one—a deep red. "Hold still."
Ten minutes later, the most feared crime lord in three provinces stood in the middle of a makeup store with fifteen different lipstick swatches on his lips and inner wrist, while his tiny wife studied each one with serious concentration.
"The burgundy looks good," she decided. "And the coral. And maybe this pink one for special occasions."
"Whatever you want, kitten." His voice was muffled from trying not to move his lips too much.
The sales clerk looked like she was trying very hard not to laugh. Or take pictures. Or both.
Hair accessories were next. Scarlett found a display of clips and pins and immediately started testing them—in Sylus's silver hair.
"You have such pretty hair," she said, clipping a sparkly butterfly pin near his temple. "It's not fair. You're a man and you have better hair than me."
"Your hair is perfect."
"Shush. I'm decorating you." Another clip—this one with flowers. "There. You look adorable."
Sylus caught his reflection in a nearby mirror. He looked ridiculous. Completely ridiculous. A crime lord with butterfly clips and flower pins in his hair.
But Scarlett was giggling, so happy and carefree, and he'd wear a thousand stupid clips if it kept that smile on her face.
His men trailing behind them were definitely taking pictures. He'd deal with that later.
They passed an arcade section, and Scarlett stopped dead at a claw machine. Inside was a collection of plushies—small white dragons with red eyes that looked suspiciously like Sylus in dragon form.
"I want that one!" She pointed at a particularly cute one in the center. "The one with the grumpy expression!"
"It's a claw machine, kitten. They're designed to be nearly impossible."
"But I want it!" She was already feeding coins into the machine, maneuvering the claw with intense concentration.
It dropped the plushie. Twice. Three times.
Scarlett's pout was growing with each failure.
Sylus watched for another two attempts, then pulled out his phone. Made a call. Spoke quietly in a tone that suggested he was not asking.
Five minutes later, a mall manager appeared with paperwork and keys.
"The machine is yours, Mrs. Qin," the manager said, looking nervous. "For as long as you'd like. And—" He glanced at Sylus, who nodded. "—you now own it. Congratulations."
Scarlett blinked. "I... own the machine?"
"Your husband purchased it." The manager fled before she could ask more questions.
"Sylus!" Scarlett turned to him, somewhere between laughing and exasperated. "I just wanted to win one plushie! You didn't have to buy the entire machine!"
"You wanted to keep trying until you won." He shrugged, completely unbothered. "Now you can try as many times as you want. Forever."
"You're ridiculous."
"You love me anyway."
"I do." She shook her head but was smiling. "But we're not taking the machine home."
"Why not? I already had it added to the shipping list."
"SYLUS!"
But she was laughing now, accepting that her husband was absolutely insane with money and completely incapable of doing things halfway.
They continued through the mall, Scarlett happily browsing while Sylus and his men became pack mules, loaded down with shopping bags. His arms were full. Lin was carrying at least ten bags. Marcus and Tao had been recruited as additional bag carriers.
The dragon lord's shopping trip was apparently a full tactical operation.
Then Scarlett stopped.
Completely froze in the middle of the walkway, staring at something in a men's clothing store window.
A mannequin. Male. Wearing black dress pants and a black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular forearms. Good posture. Broad shoulders. Objectively well-styled.
Also completely faceless, because it was a mannequin.
"Mr. Mannequin, hear me out," Scarlett said seriously, walking closer. "You look very handsome."
Sylus's eye twitched. "Scarlett. It's a mannequin."
"I know! But look at him. Those shoulders. That posture. The rolled-up sleeves showing the forearms—" She gestured appreciatively. "Very attractive."
"He doesn't even have a face."
"He doesn't need a face with that outfit!" Scarlett was clearly enjoying this now. "Mr. Mannequin, if you were real, I'd—"
"Scarlett." Sylus's voice had gone dangerously low.
She ignored him, circling the mannequin. "I mean, look at this. The way the shirt fits. The casual elegance. This mannequin has better style than most real men."
Sylus stared at the plastic figure. Was he seriously jealous of a mannequin? That was absurd. Irrational. Completely beneath him.
The mannequin stared back with its blank, featureless face. Mocking him. Standing there with its perfect posture and rolled-up sleeves, stealing his wife's attention.
Sylus's hand drifted toward his concealed weapon. Could shoot the mannequin. Right now. Solve this problem permanently. Burn it to ashes with dragon fire if necessary.
"Are you glaring at the mannequin?" Lin whispered from behind him, sounding far too amused.
"No," Sylus lied.
"You're definitely glaring at the mannequin."
"I will fire you."
"You've threatened that seventeen times this month, boss."
Scarlett suddenly burst out laughing, turning to face Sylus with pure delight on her face. "Oh my god, you're actually jealous! Of a plastic mannequin! I was joking to see if you'd react but you're actually—" More laughter. "—you're jealous of Mr. Mannequin!"
"I am not jealous." But his eyes kept drifting back to the offending plastic figure.
"You are!" She came over and took his face in her hands, still giggling. "You're jealous of a faceless piece of plastic because I said it looked handsome!"
"You were being very enthusiastic about its forearms."
"They're plastic forearms!"
"Still forearms. On a male figure. That you were admiring."
Scarlett kissed his cheek, then his nose, then his lips, still laughing between each kiss. "You're insane. Wonderfully, adorably insane. It's a mannequin, you possessive dragon."
"I don't like you looking at other males. Even plastic ones."
"Noted." She threaded her fingers through his, tugging him away from the store. "Come on before you actually commit violence against retail displays."
But Sylus kept glancing back at the mannequin as they walked away. Definitely glaring. Definitely considering whether he could have it destroyed without Scarlett noticing.
"You're still looking at it," Scarlett teased.
"I'm strategizing."
"You're planning mannequin murder."
"...Maybe."
She laughed all the way back to the car, delighted by this new side of him. The great dragon lord, reduced to jealousy over a plastic model. It was adorable. Ridiculous. Absolutely hilarious.
His men loaded all the shopping bags into the trunk, trying very hard not to laugh at their boss, who was still occasionally glaring back at the mall entrance like the mannequin might follow them.
"You know what would make you feel better?" Scarlett said as they drove home.
"Destroying that mannequin?"
"No. Me reminding you that you're the only man I actually want. The only one I love. The only one who gets to touch me and kiss me and—" She leaned closer, whispering. "—everything else."
Sylus's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "Scarlett."
"Yes, husband?" All innocence.
"You're playing with fire."
"I like fire." She smiled. "Especially your fire."
The drive home felt longer than usual.
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.
They barely made it inside the mansion before Sylus had her against the wall, lips claiming hers with an intensity that stole her breath.
"Mine," he growled against her mouth. "Not the mannequin's. Not anyone else's. Mine."
"Yours," Scarlett agreed breathlessly, her hands already pulling at his shirt. "Always yours. Only yours."
"Say it again." His lips moved to her neck, finding that spot that made her whimper.
"Yours. I'm yours, Sylus. Completely yours."
He lifted her easily, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her upstairs. Never breaking the kiss. Possessive and desperate and needing to prove—to himself, to her, to the universe—that she belonged to him.
Not to faceless mannequins or other men or anything except him.
His mate. His wife. His everything.
What followed was intense. Possessive. Sylus kept whispering it between kisses, between touches, between moments that made Scarlett forget her own name.
"You're mine."
"Yes—"
"Say it. Say you're mine."
"I'm yours! Sylus, I'm—oh god—I'm yours!"
Again and again, until the words blurred together, until Scarlett couldn't think of anything except him and the way he claimed every inch of her like he was branding his ownership into her soul.
Later—much later—they lay tangled together, breathing hard, covered in sweat and completely satisfied.
"Feel better?" Scarlett asked, tracing patterns on his chest. "About the mannequin situation?"
"I still want to destroy it."
She laughed. "You're ridiculous."
"I'm possessive. There's a difference." He pulled her closer. "And you like it."
"I do," she admitted. "It's stupid and caveman-like and completely irrational. But I love it."
"Good." He kissed her hair. "Because I'm not changing. You're mine, and I don't share. Not even with plastic retail displays."
"Noted. No more complimenting mannequins."
"Thank you."
"But what about male statues? Are those off-limits too?"
"Scarlett."
"What about paintings of men? Historical figures? Anime characters?"
"You're testing me."
"I'm teasing you." She grinned up at him. "Because jealous Sylus is very fun to play with."
He flipped them so he was hovering over her, eyes dark with renewed desire. "You want to play with the dragon, kitten?"
"Always," she whispered.
And the night was far from over.
Outside, Sylus's men were unloading shopping bags and trying not to think too hard about what was happening upstairs.
Lin pulled out his phone and sent a message to the group chat:
Lin: Boss was jealous of a mannequin today. An actual plastic mannequin.
Marcus: No.
Tao: PHOTOS OR IT DIDN'T HAPPEN
Lin: [attached image of Sylus glaring at the mannequin]
Marcus: I'M DYING
Tao: The most feared crime lord in three provinces. Defeated by retail displays.
Lin: Mrs. Qin thinks it's hilarious. She teased him the whole way home.
Marcus: She's perfect for him.
Tao: Agreed. Only she could make the boss jealous of plastic and somehow make it adorable.
Upstairs, the dragon continued proving to his mate—thoroughly, repeatedly, possessively—that no mannequin, no matter how well-styled, could ever compare to him.
And Scarlett, laughing and breathless and completely in love, had to agree.
Her dragon was the only one she wanted.
Even if he was ridiculously jealous sometimes.
Especially because he was ridiculously jealous sometimes.
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To be continued.