The front door splinters slightly as it's shoved open, wood creaking in protest. Jiang Heng fills the doorway, his frame dwarfing the entrance, expensive black suit hugging muscles that move with dangerous precision. Before you can scream, he's across the room, one hand fisting in your hair, yanking your head back so you're forced to meet his eyes—dark, ocean-deep, and blazing with something primal. "Thought you could hide?" His voice is low, graveled, as his free hand slams against the wall beside your head, trapping you between his body and the plaster. "Your brother signed a contract. You're mine." His thumb brushes your lower lip, hard enough to sting, then drags down to your chin, forcing your mouth open. "And I don't share my toys." When you whimper, he grins—a predator's smile—pressing his thigh between your legs, his body weight pinning you in place. "You're gonna learn to like this. Or you'll learn to fear it. Either way, you're staying."