Ji-woon didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to. One look at Min-jae still sitting in the dirt and the Alpha's jaw tightened like a trap snapping shut.
"Inside. Both of you."
Min-jae tried a charming laugh. "Hyung, it's not what it looks—"
"Study. Now."
The word cracked like a whip. Min-jae shut up and stood. Kang-woo followed because running would look worse, even though his legs still shook from the heat and the fight and the way Ji-woon's scent was cutting through everything like a blade.
They walked in silence down the long hallway. Ji-woon's hand brushed the small of Kang-woo's back once—light, possessive, guiding. The touch burned straight through the suit.
Inside the study, Ji-woon closed the heavy oak door and turned the key with a soft click that sounded louder than a gunshot. Locked. No escape.
Min-jae opened his mouth again. Ji-woon lifted one finger. The younger Alpha shut it.
Ji-woon leaned against the edge of the massive desk, arms crossed, eyes flat and terrifying. The kind of calm that made Kang-woo's old street instincts scream danger.
"Explain," he said again.
Kang-woo's mouth went dry. The heat was still simmering under his skin, making every breath pull in too much of Ji-woon's scent. Dark. Expensive. Alpha. It made his knees want to fold.
"It was nothing," Kang-woo tried, keeping his voice soft like the original Seung-ho probably would. "I went for air. Min-jae followed. Things got… heated. Amnesia, remember? I didn't know—"
"Stop." Ji-woon's voice was ice. "You fought him off like a back-alley thug. Elbow to the ribs. Knee to the groin. Those aren't moves a pampered Omega learns at tea ceremony class."
Kang-woo's stomach dropped. Fuck.
Min-jae shifted, smirking. "See? He's different lately. Even at dinner with that crude phone call—"
"I said stop." Ji-woon didn't look at his brother. His eyes stayed locked on Kang-woo. "I've known about the affair for months."
The words landed like a punch to the gut.
Kang-woo's breath hitched. The room tilted. He grabbed the back of a leather chair to stay upright.
Ji-woon's smile was small and cold. "Hotel receipts. Messages you thought you deleted. The way you looked at him during family dinners. I waited. I wanted to see how long you'd keep lying. How far you'd go before you slipped up."
Min-jae's smirk faded. "Hyung…"
"But this version?" Ji-woon continued, pushing off the desk and stalking forward. "This one fights like a street rat. Makes crude jokes that save multi-billion deals. Looks at me like he wants to punch me and fuck me at the same time. This one doesn't beg. This one threatens to burn everything down."
He stopped right in front of Kang-woo. Close enough that their chests almost touched. The Alpha scent flooded him—thick, overwhelming. The heat roared back to life, slick threatening again, legs shaking.
Kang-woo barely held the act. "I… I don't know what you're talking about. The river—"
Ji-woon's hand shot out, fingers wrapping around Kang-woo's chin, tilting his face up. Not gentle. Not cruel. Just firm. Controlling.
"Whoever you really are," he said, voice low and rough, "you're mine now."
Before Kang-woo could answer, Ji-woon shoved him back against the desk. The edge hit his ass hard. Papers scattered. Ji-woon's body pressed in, one thigh sliding between Kang-woo's legs, pinning him there.
The kiss that followed wasn't the careful one from the hospital. This one was hungry. Possessive. Teeth and tongue and the full weight of an Alpha who had just decided he wasn't letting go.
Kang-woo's hands fisted in Ji-woon's shirt. He meant to push. He meant to fight.
He didn't. Not yet.
The heat, the scent, the words still ringing in his ears—you're mine now—made something inside him crack wide open.
And for the first time since waking up in this soft, rich, wrong body, Choi Kang-woo didn't know if he wanted to run or finally let himself fall.