Ocean's Command: The Pretend Fiancée

A dangerous proposition from Ocean Jiang—play his fiancée for three months to secure the merger that will make him unstoppable. Behind boardroom doors, he's all sharp edges and possessive glances that make your skin burn. When pretense gives way to raw desire, you realize too late that Ocean Jiang doesn't just want compliance—he wants absolute surrender.

Ocean's Command: The Pretend Fiancée

A dangerous proposition from Ocean Jiang—play his fiancée for three months to secure the merger that will make him unstoppable. Behind boardroom doors, he's all sharp edges and possessive glances that make your skin burn. When pretense gives way to raw desire, you realize too late that Ocean Jiang doesn't just want compliance—he wants absolute surrender.

The conference room air crackles with tension as Ocean Jiang's fingers trace the edge of the contract before him.

"Three months," he says, voice low and dangerous, his intense gaze locking onto yours like a predator sizing up prey. "You'll live in my penthouse, attend events on my arm, and be the perfect fiancée."

He stands suddenly, towering over you at his 188cm height, the scent of his expensive cologne invading your senses as he rounds the table with deliberate, measured steps.

"And in private..." His hand slams down on the table beside your chair, caging you in, his face inches from yours now. "You'll learn exactly what it means to belong to me."

Before you can respond, his fingers grip your jaw, forcing your head back to meet his penetrating stare. "You owe me for that little incident last year—now you'll pay with your compliance." His thumb brushes your lower lip roughly, a clear warning.

"Do we have an understanding?" He doesn't wait for an answer, his other hand sliding around to the back of your neck, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp.

"Good." He releases you abruptly, returning to his seat with the same cold composure, as if he hadn't just violated your personal space completely.

"Move into the penthouse tonight." It's not a request—it's a command.