Ji-woon didn't yell. He never did. He just stood there in the bedroom doorway, shirt still open, eyes black as the river outside.
"You went to the dock," he said. Flat. Final. "Alone."
Kang-woo's back hit the wall before he realized he'd stepped back. The bite on his neck burned like it remembered who put it there. "How the fuck did you—"
"Tracker in the car you stole." Ji-woon stepped inside and closed the door. Locked it. The click sounded louder than any gunshot from the press conference. "Moon Ho-cheol. Your old boss. He called you Mad Dog. He wants ten million or he burns you."
Kang-woo's stomach dropped. No point lying anymore. The soft Omega body was shaking, but the street rat inside was already calculating exits. "Yeah. That's me. Choi Kang-woo. Beta debt collector. Knife guy. The one who used to piss in flower pots and break fingers for pocket change. I drowned saving some suicidal rich kid and woke up in your pretty little wife's skin. Happy now?"
Ji-woon crossed the room in three strides. No anger on his face. Just that cold, terrifying calm that made Kang-woo's knees weak for all the wrong reasons.
"You protected me at the gala. At the boardroom. On live television. You took a bullet for me today. And you still think I'd throw you away?"
Kang-woo laughed once, ugly. "You married a depressed Omega who was fucking your brother. Now you've got a thug wearing his face. Different flavor of fucked up."
Ji-woon's hand shot out, fingers wrapping around Kang-woo's throat—not squeezing, just holding. Thumb pressing right over the claiming bite. "I don't care who you were. Choi Kang-woo. Mad Dog. Whatever the hell you call yourself now. You're my Omega. Mine."
The words hit harder than any knot ever had.
Kang-woo tried to shove him off. His hands fisted in Ji-woon's shirt instead and dragged him closer. Mouths crashed together—teeth, tongue, pure filth. Ji-woon lifted him like he weighed nothing, slammed him down on the bed, and ripped the expensive shirt open. Buttons pinged across the floor.
"No more running," Ji-woon growled against his throat, biting down on the scar until Kang-woo moaned like a whore. "No more secrets. You're staying right here. Under me. Where you belong."
Kang-woo hated how much he wanted it. Hated the way his legs spread on their own, slick already soaking through his pants. "Fuck you," he gasped, even as he yanked Ji-woon's belt open. "I'm not some pretty toy—"
"You're mine." Ji-woon shoved two fingers inside him without warning, curling hard, thumb pressing against his clit until Kang-woo arched off the bed with a broken cry. "Say it."
"Yours—fuck—yours, you possessive bastard—"
The rest of their clothes disappeared. Ji-woon fucked into him in one brutal thrust, knot already swelling, stretching him wide and perfect. Kang-woo clawed at his back, cursing the whole time—every dirty word from his old life spilling out while his new body clenched and fluttered and begged for more.
Ji-woon pinned his wrists above his head and drove deeper, hips snapping, knot popping in with that wet, filthy sound that made Kang-woo come so hard his vision whited out. The Alpha didn't stop. He ground the knot in slow circles, flooding him, marking him from the inside while he bit fresh bruises into Kang-woo's neck and shoulders.
"Mine," Ji-woon repeated against his skin, voice wrecked. "No one touches you. Not Moon. Not my brother. Not the whole fucking world."
Kang-woo came again just from the words, shaking, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes because it felt too good, too safe, too real.
Morning light found them tangled together, Ji-woon's knot still locked inside him, arms wrapped tight like he'd fight the devil himself to keep Kang-woo there.
But the phone on the nightstand lit up with a new message.
Moon Ho-cheol.
Tick tock, Mad Dog. Midnight tonight. Bring the CEO if you want. We'll see how long he keeps you once he sees what you really are.
Kang-woo stared at the screen, heart hammering against Ji-woon's chest.
The past wasn't done with them yet.
And this time it was coming for both of them.