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He shakes his head and gives me a look, hiking up one brow clearly annoyed. I can see the muscle in his jaw tick. “Don’t cross the line,” he says his voice throaty. The way he balls his fists is a dead giveaway he doesn’t like me. Well right back at you, motherfucker. I hate that he has Moon’s respect, and that they’re best friends. “You sound like your brother.”

I flip him off. He almost chokes while he takes a deep breath and exhales the smoke through his nose.

“Why are you even talking to me? Yo-you can’t stand the sight of me, remember?” I huff. “You made that perfectly clear by never talking to me in all these last years,” I taunt, while he narrows his gaze at me, still not saying anything.

He lets out a deep laugh as he taps his cigarette against the railing. “Yeah, Moon raised you good.”

“Hey, don’t talk bad about him,” I bite out and he winks. He keeps staring at me, not saying anything.

This silence game is getting annoying. Even when my brother pulls the same shit, I always respond to talking way too much just to get on his nerves.

He runs a hand over his jaw, tapping the cigarette on the railing again, not saying anything for another whole damn minute; I counted. He’s doing the male brooding stoic gaze he does so well while long strands of hair blow in his face. He inhales deep, blowing out the smoke through his nose while he looks at me again. “Why are you so angry?” he asks, sounding amused by this whole situation.

“Why am I so angry?” I spit out. “I was having a nice time, alone may I add. Minding my own business, thinking about my impending marriage before you fucked up my peace. Keep ignoring me like you always do. There must be enough girls downstairs for you to talk to,” I say, making quotation marks in the air.

He blows the smoke in my face. Some of it gets in my eyes and I blink against the sting.

“You really shouldn’t be crossing the line with me.”

“Whatever, I have more where those came from,” I tell him, and shrug as I flip him off.

He takes a deep breath through his nose like he’s holding himself back. My time to narrow my eyes at the bastard.

He holds out his hand. “Give them to me,” he says, not leaving any room to argue.

I shake my head, but he grabs my purse and goes through it, fishing the pack out and pushing it in his back pocket before giving me my purse back.

“Give them back,” I order, but he doesn’t look at me. He shakes his head in response; the half smirk is gone before I can blink. I know I need to get him to leave before Eliot comes to celebrate his birthday. This is the longest conversation we’ve ever had and a part of me wants to see where this is going. I want to see his dark side; maybe I have a death wish because that’s where this is leading.

“Why are you even up here?” I tell him

“You’re going to regret talking to me like this.” His deep voice cuts through my spiraling.

I purse my lips, debating if I should reach into his back pocket and get my smokes back. Maybe it’s not a good idea to touch the devil’s ass out in the open. “Why do you care, Zhan Tian?” I ask, calling him by his full name.

“If you want to jump before we get married, I suggest you go up one story,” he deadpans, motioning with his chin in the direction of the chairs.

“Fuck you,” I gasp, pushing my hair out of my face. Hold up, we are getting married, as in him and me? I probably didn’t hear him right; Cantonese is on a different level.

Maybe I’ll jump after I marry one of your brothers, I want to add, but I stop myself from digging a bigger grave to fall into.

He shakes his head and runs a hand through his long hair. He’s been growing it out more, which I hate and like at the same time.

“Don’t you want to go back downstairs? Why are you slumming it up here with me?” I laugh, but it comes out like I’m jealous.

He shakes his head but doesn’t say anything. He keeps smoking my fucking cigarette. The ones I bought this time, with my own money.

I watch him from the corner of my eyes. He pushes up his sleeves, revealing his toned arms with the distinct veins on the side. He doesn’t wear any jewelry except for the combat watch El gifted him around his wrist. I don’t know if he has any tattoos like my brother; maybe he has some hiding under those expensive black suits and shirts. Moon is hiding a whole picture book under his clothes; wouldn’t put it past Tian to have them too. Every single one in the family business has tattoos. This is the way it’s been for centuries. The men inherit everything, while us women are nothing but ways to keep the family tree going. Me being the exception when my father met my mother in Chinatown, New York, when she was a model from Sweden. He defied his family, and she paid the price in the end. At least that’s the story Moon told me.

“You shouldn’t come up here alone,” he says, his dark eyes trailing over the oversized outfit I’m wearing.

“Why?” For real, why does it sound like he’s concerned about my well-being? Okay, I do like how he always cares for my brother. That stoic detached man needs someone good in his life to have his back. I can deal with his brothers, but Tian’s too much.

He turns his head in my direction. Fuck, I have the urge to move back a little; I can taste his breath on my lips. Cigarettes and mints.

His eyes flick to my lips when I moisten them.

“The family put every security there is in place.” I motion to the buildings around us and the men wearing Kalashnikovs under their suits. There are even snipers positioned in every direction. This is the safest place in the city. I have no idea what he’s complaining about.