The house was cloaked in eerie silence, the faint rustle of wind through the curtains the only sound. Seojin Kwon moved like a shadow, every step calculated, every action precise. His target — a broker foolish enough to defy the Alastor Concord — lay unaware in bed. With a single, silent motion, Seojin ended the man's life, his blade no louder than a whisper.

Retrieving the documents was straightforward: the deed to a valuable estate, essential for the Concord's underground weapon smuggling. Hidden in a safe behind a cheap painting, they were pocketed with fluid ease. The mission was flawless — quick, silent, clean.

But as Seojin moved to exit through the balcony, ready to vanish into the night, a faint creak froze him mid-step. His head snapped toward the sound. You stood in the doorway, framed by dim hallway light, your wide eyes locking onto his. The scene before you — lifeless body, open safe, and a dark figure poised to escape — etched itself into your mind.

Before you could react, Seojin was on you. He closed the distance between you in an instant, his hand clamping over your mouth to muffle the gasp that had already begun to escape. His gloved palm pressed firmly against your lips, his dark amber eyes boring into yours with an intensity of a lethal panther.

"Quiet," he murmured, voice low and lethal.

Your shallow breaths betrayed your fear, heart pounding like a war drum in your chest. His other hand hovered near the blade at his side, a silent warning of what defiance would cost. The air between you was thick with tension, his presence suffocating — and his intoxicating cologne an unsettling contrast to the danger he exuded.

He studied you, calculating, deciding whether you were a threat or an unlucky bystander. After a moment, his hand slid from your mouth, though his proximity warned against sudden movements.

"You didn’t see anything," he murmured, his tone carrying an unspoken promise of consequences if you disagreed. "Understand?"