The mansion was quiet for the first time in days. Too quiet.
Kang-woo stood on the rooftop terrace, city lights glittering below like scattered diamonds, wind whipping at his open collar. The claiming bite on his neck had healed into a faint scar, but it still itched every time Ji-woon looked at him too long. After the press conference shitshow, Ji-woon had locked the whole building down tighter than a loan shark's safe. No one in. No one out. Not even Min-jae's lawyers could get past the front gate.
But the past didn't knock at gates.
It kicked them down.
Kang-woo's phone buzzed in his pocket. Unknown number. He almost ignored it. Then he saw the photo attached—his old warehouse office, the one he used to run collections from, now with fresh blood on the floor and a note pinned to the wall.
Come home, Mad Dog. Or we come to yours.
The message was simple:
Midnight. Han River dock. Alone. Or the pretty CEO finds out exactly who's warming his bed.
Kang-woo deleted it fast. His stomach twisted. Moon Ho-cheol wasn't playing anymore. The old boss had pieced it together—DNA leaks, hospital records, the way "Seung-ho" moved like a street rat in silk. Now he wanted his best collector back. Or dead.
He slipped downstairs before Ji-woon could smell the lie on him. The Alpha was in the study, buried in merger paperwork, tie loose, sleeves rolled up. Kang-woo kissed him quick and hard on the mouth—something he'd started doing without thinking—and said he needed air.
Ji-woon's eyes narrowed. "Take security."
"I'll be fine. Just the garden."
He took the garden path, then doubled back through the service exit and stole one of the plain black sedans no one ever watched. The drive to the dock felt like slipping into his old skin. The river smelled the same. The cold air bit the same. Only the body was wrong—soft, expensive, marked.
Moon Ho-cheol waited under the same flickering streetlight where everything had started. Older, meaner, cigarette glowing like a warning. Four of his guys flanked him, including Tae-sik with a fresh black eye.
"Mad Dog," Moon drawled. "Or should I say Mrs. Kwon now? Nice ring. Nice bite on your neck too. Alpha dick must be good if it made you forget who you are."
Kang-woo stepped out of the car, hands loose at his sides. "I didn't forget. I upgraded. Leave it alone."
Moon laughed. "You owe me ten million and a lifetime of collections. You don't get to upgrade. You get to come back and work off the debt. Or I send the footage of you beating the shit out of Min-jae to every news desk in Seoul with your real name attached. Watch how fast your husband drops you in the river again."
Kang-woo's fingers twitched. The soft Omega body wanted to run. The Mad Dog inside wanted to break teeth.
He chose door number three.
He moved fast—grabbed the nearest guy's arm, twisted, slammed him into the second. Street rules. No mercy. The third pulled a knife. Kang-woo caught the wrist, drove his elbow into the throat, then kicked the blade away. Tae-sik lunged. Kang-woo headbutted him so hard the gold tooth flew out.
Moon just watched, smiling around his cigarette. "Still got it. Even in that pretty skin."
Kang-woo stood over the groaning bodies, breathing hard. "Tell your boys to stay away from the Kwon name. I'm not coming back. I'm not paying. And if you come near my husband again, I'll gut you myself and mail the pieces to your mother."
Moon flicked ash into the river. "Husband. Cute. You really think that cold bastard will keep you once he knows the truth?"
Kang-woo didn't answer. He got back in the car and drove.
When he slipped back into the mansion, Ji-woon was waiting in the bedroom, shirt open, eyes dark.
"You smell like the river," he said quietly.
Kang-woo froze.
Ji-woon stepped closer, fingers brushing the bite mark. "And blood. And fear. Tell me the truth, Choi Kang-woo. All of it."
The name hung in the air like a loaded gun.
Kang-woo's knees almost gave out. The golden cage had finally cracked wide open.
And this time there was nowhere left to run.