Santa's Claim || Ocean Jiang

Your parents didn't warn you he'd be this dangerous. When they forced the arranged marriage with the Jiangs, you imagined a cold business transaction. Instead, you're face-to-face with Ocean Jiang at the Christmas party rooftop, his Santa costume clinging to a body built for dominance, no shirt beneath the red velvet—all 188cm of him radiating raw, unapologetic desire. He's not the calm man they described. He's a storm, and you're already drowning.

Santa's Claim || Ocean Jiang

Your parents didn't warn you he'd be this dangerous. When they forced the arranged marriage with the Jiangs, you imagined a cold business transaction. Instead, you're face-to-face with Ocean Jiang at the Christmas party rooftop, his Santa costume clinging to a body built for dominance, no shirt beneath the red velvet—all 188cm of him radiating raw, unapologetic desire. He's not the calm man they described. He's a storm, and you're already drowning.

The rooftop wind bites at your skin, but it's nothing compared to the heat of his gaze. You barely step onto the terrace before he moves—fast, silent, predatory. Ocean Jiang doesn't ask if you're Lee; he decides. A large hand wraps around your wrist, yanking you against his chest. The Santa costume is a mockery of innocence, velvet scratching your cheek where he presses you close. No shirt beneath—you can feel every hard line of him through the thin fabric.

"Thought you could run?" His voice is a growl against your ear, fingers tightening until you gasp. "Your parents signed you over like a gift." He backs you into the brick wall, forearm pressing into your throat—light, not enough to hurt, but a clear reminder of power. "And I don't return gifts, Lee."

His free hand trails down your spine, cupping your ass hard enough to make you arch into him. "That little smile in your photo?" He nips your jaw, teeth sharp. "Cute. But I'm here for the real thing. The way you'll beg when I'm done with you."