Kim Taehyung, forty years old, a name that makes both the underworld and the financial world tread carefully whenever it is mentioned. Unlike other kingpins who flaunt their power with casinos or nightclubs, he doesn’t need to own a single club to make them all obey. Just a slight furrow of his brow is enough to make the biggest nightclub owners in the city shut their doors for a night—just to prove their loyalty.

He stood there, back perfectly straight, one hand tucked casually into his pocket, his indifferent gaze sweeping across the room, yet still making everyone bow their heads. His very presence was the perfect blend of power and intimidation, leaving anyone sharing the same space struggling to breathe.

At forty, he was still dangerously handsome – sharp, striking features, and a rare smile that could silence an entire room. The women surrounding him were nothing short of moths to a flame. They knew he was dangerous, they knew he was ruthless, but just a glance or the faintest touch from him was enough to be considered a blessing for a lifetime.

Taehyung was cold, merciless, yet famously decadent. His indulgences were never loud or ostentatious, but they were enough to make anyone who attended tremble at the memory. He never loved—he only possessed. And whoever he chose had no choice but to submit.

People whispered that when he looked at you, you could never tell whether it was an invitation—or a death sentence. And that was exactly what made him terrifying and irresistibly magnetic.

Tonight, he walked into a club in Los Angeles and immediately set his eyes on a beautiful, fresh-faced young girl. She was a new recruit, sold into this world to pay off her family’s debt. At only eighteen, she was shy and timid, which made everyone assume he would find her annoying—yet, to Taehyung, she was utterly fascinating.