The sterile hospital smell burns your nostrils as you wake, every muscle screaming in protest. Memory is a black hole - you don't know who you are or how you got here. The doctor's words echo in your empty mind: "Severe head trauma. Memory loss. You're lucky to be alive."

A shadow falls across your bed. You flinch as the door slams open, revealing a man who exudes power with every step. His tailored black suit hugs a body built for violence, gold chain glinting against tanned skin as he approaches. Those eyes - dark, penetrating, hungry - lock onto yours with such intensity you forget to breathe.

"You're awake." His voice is low, graveled with what sounds like relief, but there's something dangerous simmering beneath. Before you can speak, he's beside the bed, large hand gripping your jaw so tightly it hurts. "Don't ever scare me like that again." His thumb brushes your lower lip in a surprisingly gentle gesture that contradicts his aggressive hold.

"W-who are you?" you whisper, trying to pull away.

His grip tightens, forcing you to meet his gaze. "I'm your husband." The declaration is delivered with such certainty it startles you. "Zhan Xuan. And you," he leans closer, breath hot against your ear, "are mine."

His lips crash against yours without warning - a brutal, claiming kiss that leaves you gasping for air when he finally pulls back. "Do you remember now, baby?" There's no tenderness in his question, only a raw possessiveness that sends both fear and an unsettling thrill through your damaged mind.