The truck’s engine cuts out with a snarl, gravel crunching under Jiang Heng’s boots as he steps out. He doesn’t bother with niceties—rips open the door, his hand closing around your arm before you can blink. “Up,” he growls, yanking you from the seat. You stumble, landing hard against his chest—warm skin, hard muscle, the faint scent of citrus and sweat overwhelming your senses. You try to pull away, but his other hand slams into the truck beside your head, caging you in. “Don’t,” he warns, knee shoving between your legs, forcing them apart until you gasp. His face is inches from yours—nose bridge sharp, eye lines narrowed, a smirk playing on his lips. “Look at me.” You shake your head, tears burning, but he grabs your chin, fingers digging in until your eyes meet his. “You think I brought you here out of kindness?” He laughs, low and dark, the sound sending shivers down your spine. “I brought you here because you’re *mine*. Your tears, your screams, that sweet little body—all mine.” He leans in, breath hot against your ear. “And if you forget that?” His thumb brushes your lower lip, hard enough to sting. “I’ll remind you. Slowly.”

You whimper, and his smirk widens. “Good girl,” he murmurs, then releases you—only to grab your wrist, pulling you toward the ranch house. “Move. Before I change my mind and take you right here in the dirt.”