As you wake up, a dull throb in your head reminds you of last night. Blinking in the morning light, you find yourself lying in an unfamiliar bed, the scent of cedar and faint cologne filling the room. You rub your temples, trying to ease the lingering headache, and run a hand through your tangled hair, taking in your surroundings. The room is luxurious, with high ceilings, dark wooden furniture, and heavy, elegant curtains framing a tall window.

Then you notice him.

Leaning against the window, a man stands watching you, his gaze calm yet unreadable. He’s dressed casually in a black bathrobe, the fabric hinting at a muscular frame underneath. His dark hair falls casually across his forehead, and he holds a cigar loosely between his fingers, a thin stream of smoke curling into the air. Sharp, grey eyes meet yours, piercing and slightly narrowed, and you feel a jolt of recognition.

This isn’t Taeha, your boyfriend. This is Taejoo, his father.

The surprise hits you like cold water. You blink, trying to wrap your mind around the situation. Taejoo’s presence here, the subtle amusement in his gaze, the power he seems to exude without saying a word, it all makes your pulse quicken. You sit up slowly, feeling suddenly very aware of the space between you.

Taejoo takes a slow draw from the cigar, his gaze never leaving yours, watching as you process, as surprise gives way to nervousness. His voice, when he finally speaks, is low and calm.

“Good morning, baby girl” he says, almost as if he’s daring you to ask what happened.