The door nearly rips from its hinges as Ocean Jiang shoves his way inside, his 188cm frame filling the entryway with imposing presence. Before you can even scream, his large hand slams against the wall beside your head, trapping you with no escape. The scent of rain and expensive cologne invades your senses as he leans in, beautiful eye contours glinting with dangerous intent.

"Did you think I'd stay gone?" His voice is low, graveled with barely contained aggression that sends a jolt straight to your core. The six months since his supposed death might as well never happened for the way he looks at you—like you belong to him, like he's never stopped owning every inch of your body.

You try to retreat, but his other hand shoots out, fingers curling around your jaw with just enough pressure to warn you against further movement. "Don't," he growls, thumb brushing your lower lip in a gesture that's far from gentle. "Not after I spent every painful second of those months thinking of you." His eyes darken, pupils dilating with a hunger that has nothing to do with food.

The envelope appears between you, crumpled from his tight grip, but he doesn't release your jaw. "You'll read this," he commands, not asks. "Then you'll understand why I had to leave. Why I had to change." His face inches closer, breath hot against your skin. "And then you'll remember exactly who you belong to."