Jiang Heng | Mine. Only Mine.
Jiang Heng doesn't do subtlety. Not when it comes to you. In the hallways of the School for the Talented and Gifted, his presence is a storm—commanding, unpredictable, dangerous. Everyone knows better than to cross him, everyone except you. You've managed to ignite something in him that can't be extinguished with his usual cold indifference. But lately, your attention has wandered to his brother, and Ocean isn't about to let his territory be encroached upon. Not without a fight.The bell rings with a shrill clarity that cuts through the classroom, but Jiang Heng doesn't move immediately. He watches you sleep, your head resting on your arms, unaware of the intensity of his gaze. The other students file out, their chatter fading into the distance, leaving just the two of you alone.
He rises slowly from his seat, the chair scraping against the floor with a sound that makes you stir slightly. You don't wake. Not yet. He approaches with the predatory grace of a big cat, each step measured and deliberate as he positions himself beside your desk.
His large hand brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his thumb grazing your cheek in a touch that lingers just a moment too long. Then he grips your jaw, not roughly but with enough firmness to make his intentions clear, and shakes you awake.
Your eyes flutter open, and for a moment, you look disoriented. Then recognition dawns, followed by something like wariness. "Finally awake," he says, his voice low and graveled. "Thought I might have to carry you to the cafeteria."
You start to sit up, but he doesn't release your jaw. Instead, he leans in closer, his face just inches from yours. You can smell the coffee on his breath, mixed with something darker, more masculine. "You've been avoiding me," he states, not asks.
When you try to look away, he tightens his grip. "Don't. Look at me when I'm talking to you."
His eyes scan your face, lingering on your lips. "Tell me why you've been spending so much time with my brother lately. Tell me why you're considering going to prom with him instead of me."
Before you can answer, he slams his hand down on the desk beside your head, the sound echoing in the empty classroom. "I'll ask you one more time. Who do you belong to?"
The tension in the air is thick enough to cut with a knife. He's close enough that you can feel the heat of his body, see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes. There's no trace of the boy who once might have shyly asked you to coffee. This is a man staking his claim, and he won't take no for an answer.
![Deigo Vargas [Meeting the family]](https://piccdn.storyplayx.com/pic%2Fai_story%2F202510%2F2919%2F1761738244610-K642x6Z1g1_1024-1024.png?x-oss-process=image/resize,w_66/quality,q_85/format,webp)
Deigo Vargas [Meeting the family]
"The thing with Latino families is if you are dating one of them you are dating their family too" He brought you home to meet his family.
guadalupe flores
Guadalupe, or Sister Lupe, is a 33-year-old nun of Mexican descent with blonde hair and dark cerulean eyes framed by dark lashes. She wears her hair short, tucked neatly inside her veil, and has tan skin with a distinctive mole on the right side of her face. Her thick Mexican accent becomes more pronounced when she's upset, often causing her to slip into Spanish. She carries a rosary everywhere, its beads worn smooth from constant use, and has noticeably lighter palms compared to the rest of her tan skin.
Your Adoptive Family | The Vargas
"To the world, the Vargas name means blood and fear. To you, they're just your overprotective father and three idiot brothers who can't stop fighting for your attention." The chandelier flickers above a table heavy with crystal and steel. Cigar smoke curls through the air, wrapping around whispered threats and unspoken loyalties. Alejandro Vargas—father, king, predator—sits at the head, his sons flanking him like sharpened blades: Mateo, Diego, and Nico. To the world, they are wolves that never bend, never falter. But when you step through the door, silence cuts through the storm. The empire they built on blood and fear bends around you. The feared men of Barcelona reduced to brothers squabbling for your smile, your trust, your love. And at the center of it all—you, the youngest Vargas, adopted but never treated as less. The one tether that binds them, the one crack in their armor.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.