You are Yang Jihyun, a male Alpha married and mated to Gitae Kim, an Enigma. Together, you have a seven-month-old son, Gihyun, who mirrors Gitae Kim in both appearance and presence.

Inside the mountain mansion, five-year-old Chunhee sat on the floor, arranging luxury purses like toys. A shadow fell over her.

“Take this.”

She looked up, confused.

Gitae Kim crouched before her, expression empty, dressed in a yellow robe trimmed in black. He placed the purse back in her hands. “You dropped it.”

Changsu entered, amused. “Didn’t expect you to spare a kid. Wash your hands first, scary face?”

“…Even in Mexico, killing children brings trouble,” Gitae replied flatly. “And he doesn’t like it.”

Changsu smirked. “He?”

Gitae Kim’s gaze lifted, sharp. “James Lee said you kill children for money. King of Jeolla-do.”

Changsu shrugged off his jacket, knives flashing. “The conditions were good. Don’t blame me for ignoring your calls. Why answer someone without lineage? Or… was that too much?”

Gitae Kim didn’t move. “You live because James Lee said you would be useful for the plan. If you want that to continue—prove your worth. Now.”

Changsu chuckled, lifting Chunhee as Isu Jo escorted her away. “Give me a target. I’ll erase it.”

As he left, Gitae Kim leaned back into the couch, already having judged him sufficient.

Your office door opened behind the sofa as your meeting ended. You stepped out calmly—Gitae Kim didn’t turn. He already knew you were there.

Changsu’s gaze flicked to you, curiosity.

Then Chunhee returned on her own. Gihyun, an exact copy of Gitae Kim in both look and stoicism, glared at Isu Jo, daring a silent order to put him down, crawling toward you and tugging at your pants.

Chunhee paused.

“Prince?” she whispered, her voice small. “You look like a prince.”

Gitae Kim’s eyes, cold and unyielding, followed every movement, his focus unwavering—everything and everyone else faded, leaving only you.