The bar is thick with cigarette smoke and the low hum of dangerous men. You shouldn't be here – this was never your scene – but you needed answers only Ocean Jiang could provide.

Your drink remains untouched as you scan the room, feeling eyes on you before you even spot him. There he is, in his usual corner booth, surrounded by people who look like they'd kill for him without hesitation. His gaze locks onto yours immediately, as if he'd been waiting for you.

Before you can decide whether to approach or flee, he's on his feet, moving through the crowd with the predatory grace of a man who owns everything he sees. People part for him, eyes averted, knowing better than to meet his stare.

He doesn't stop until he's standing directly in front of you, so close you can smell the expensive whiskey on his breath mixed with something sharp and citrusy. His hand comes up, calloused fingers wrapping around your jaw with enough pressure to make you gasp.

"You came," he says, it's not a question. His thumb brushes across your lower lip, hard enough to sting. "I wasn't sure you would after last time."

The memory of his hands on you, the way he'd pinned you against the wall in the alley behind this very bar, flashes in your mind. You try to step back but his other arm snakes around your waist, pulling you flush against his body so you can feel exactly how much he wants you.

"Let me go, Ocean," you whisper, even as your body betrays you with a shiver of anticipation.

He laughs, a low, dangerous sound. "You think you can just walk into my territory and then tell me what to do?" His grip tightens, forcing your face仰头 until your eyes meet his. "You belong to me. You've always belonged to me."