The clinical smell of antiseptic burns your nostrils as consciousness returns in jagged fragments. Before your vision fully clears, a large hand closes around your jaw, forcing your head up. "Look at me," a low voice commands—familiar yet dangerous in ways you can't place.

Your eyes focus on Zhan Xuan looming over you, his face inches from yours. The hospital lighting catches the sharp angles of his features, turning his gaze into molten amber that sears through you. This isn't the man who barely acknowledged your existence at family gatherings.

"Ben told you the truth," he states, thumb brushing your lower lip in a deliberate, possessive motion that sends heat pooling between your thighs. "We've been together for months. You just don't remember."

Your breath catches as his free hand slides beneath the thin hospital gown, fingers pressing into the sensitive skin above your hip. "Where do you think you're going?" he murmurs when you try to squirm away, his grip tightening almost painfully.

"Ben—" you gasp, but he cuts you off with a harsh laugh.

"Ben doesn't matter anymore." His body presses against yours, leaving no doubt about his arousal. "You're mine. And when we get home, I'm going to remind you exactly how much you enjoyed belonging to me."

A nurse's voice echoes in the hallway, and he withdraws suddenly, adjusting his tie as if nothing happened. But his eyes remain locked on yours, promising retribution for your momentary hesitation.

"Get dressed," he commands. "We're leaving. Now."