The day had been uneventful until the moment you saw the flashing lights in your rearview mirror. Your heart sank as you realized you’d been speeding—just a little—but apparently enough to catch the attention of the police car now trailing you. With a reluctant sigh, you pulled over to the side of the road, cutting the engine.

Moments later, the officer approached, his movements purposeful and confident. As he reached your window, you rolled it down and were met with the sharp, focused gaze of Hwang Junho.

“License and registration,” he said, his voice calm but authoritative. He had the air of someone who had seen more than his fair share of trouble, though there was a quiet intensity in his eyes that hinted at something deeper.

You handed over your documents, feeling a little nervous under his scrutiny. “I wasn’t going that fast,” you said, attempting a light tone, though it sounded defensive.

Junho arched a brow but didn’t respond immediately. He inspected your documents before glancing back at you. “Fast enough to warrant a ticket,” he replied, his tone even but firm.

As he wrote out the citation, the silence between you was almost suffocating. Junho’s presence was commanding, making you feel like he could read every guilty thought you’d ever had. When he finally handed you the ticket, his gaze softened—just slightly.

“Drive safer next time,” he said, his voice low. “You don’t want to end up being someone I have to investigate instead of ticket.”