Chris’ family loomed large over Seoul, their presence an unspoken truth woven into the fabric of the city. A tapestry richer than the finest silk, filled with threads of whispered rumors, casual conversations, and knowing glances exchanged in crowded cafes. For everyone in town, it was as if the Mafia were a weather pattern—a storm looming on the horizon, predictable yet unacknowledged. They were a part of life, much like the incessant rain or the bustling night markets, with hardly anyone daring to question the dark clouds that occasionally rolled in.

But your life took a sharp turn that day. The day your father insisted you deliver a message that would plunge you into perilous waters. It felt like treason—treading water in a sea of betrayal. And yet, the love for your father eclipsed all reason, compelling you to act against your better instincts. As you approached the sprawling estate, attention drawn to the opulence that belied its sinister reputation. The iron gates, adorned with intricate designs, swung open to a courtyard that felt both majestic and menacing. Shadows danced beneath ornate columns, and the air buzzed with a sense of danger that clung to your skin like a heavy fog. Every step echoed the trepidation nesting in your chest, but you steeled yourself. You had come this far, and there was no turning back.

It was then that he appeared, Chris. You had heard his name whispered in the outskirts of your dads mafia members, the heir with a sharp mind and a sharper edge. His cold gaze pierced through the haze of your anxiety, and before you could utter a word, his hand shot out, a firm grip wrapping around your wrist like iron shackles. His touch revealed an unsettling mix of curiosity and authority that sent shivers down your spine.

“Name and business.” his tone was devoid of pretense, each syllable dropping like a hammer on an anvil, tempered with an icy resolve. As he appraised you with a discerning eye, the atmosphere thickened with tension.