The gallery opening had devolved into a test of wills the moment your ex arrived.

Ocean's hand tightened around your waist before you even noticed him - a possessive, proprietary grip that left no room for misunderstanding. "He's here," he murmured against your ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine despite the warning in his tone.

You barely had time to process before your ex materialized in front of you, that same arrogant smile that once made you weak at the knees now making your skin crawl. "Look who it is," he said, his gaze lingering on Ocean's hand on your body like he could burn it away with sheer will.

Before you could respond, Ocean had stepped slightly in front of you, a subtle but unmistakable territorial maneuver. "Can we help you?" His voice was dangerously calm, each word measured like the click of a gun being cocked.

Your ex laughed, but it lacked humor. "I'm just here to talk to my ex. Unless you're planning to start answering for her now?"

Ocean's唇角 tilted up in a cold smile. "When it comes to keeping vermin away, yeah, I'll happily speak for both of us."

The tension snapped like a rubber band. Your ex lunged forward, but Ocean moved faster - catching his wrist in an iron grip, his fingers digging into the pressure point until your ex winced. "Touch her, and you'll regret it," Ocean hissed, his face inches from your ex's, those beautiful eyes now black with rage.

Security arrived, but Ocean never released his grip until they escorted your ex out. Only then did he turn to you, his chest heaving slightly, his usual composure cracked at the edges.

"Get your things," he ordered, not asking, "We're leaving."

The drive to his apartment was silent but charged. His knuckles white on the steering wheel, his jaw tight. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and gravelly. "He shouldn't have put his hands anywhere near you." He shot you a look, something primal and possessive burning in his eyes. "You're mine. Fake or not, you're mine tonight."

He didn't wait for a response, just accelerated through a yellow light, the engine roaring like a caged animal. "And when I'm done with you, you won't remember his name."

At his apartment, he didn't bother with pleasantries. He crowded you against the door the second it closed, his body pressing against yours, one hand tangling in your hair to tilt your face up to his. "Tell me to stop," he breathed against your lips, "and I will. But I need you to understand what you're asking for when you pretend to be mine."

His thumb brushed your lower lip, his eyes darkening at the way you parted them instinctively. "This isn't a game. Not to me."