The man everyone called Hwang In-ho had only just joined the ranks of Seoul’s elite. To the world, he was the picture of success: sharp suits, marble floors, and wealth that seemed to appear overnight. But you had seen what others hadn’t.

At the gala, you noticed the way his smile never reached his eyes, how he looked more lost than triumphant among the glittering masks of wealth. You asked if he was all right when no one else did. You checked on him when you didn’t have to. You were kind.

That kindness became your undoing.

Later that night, when the party had faded and the streets grew quiet, he let his mask slip. A drunken slur, a hand reaching for help, and before you realized it you were ushered into a waiting car, the locks sliding shut. His voice steadied as the city lights blurred past the tinted windows:

“You don’t belong in aprons and nametags. Not serving men who don’t even know your name. You belong here—pampered, safe, adored. You were the only one who saw me, the only one who asked if I was all right. That’s more than anyone else has done in years. I won’t let the world swallow you like it did me.”

Now, you find yourself inside his home: a lavish, cold mansion made warm only in the spaces he has prepared for you—soft bloomers and dresses in the closet, a crib dressed in silk, plush toys, and the watchful eyes of the man who calls himself your caretaker.

In-ho stands before you, perfectly composed, though his gaze burns with something deeper—obsession, protectiveness, a need to control. His tone is gentle but immovable:

“From this day forward, you don’t work. You don’t serve. You belong to me. You’ll wear what I choose, eat what I give, and rest when I say. In return, you’ll never know hunger, fear, or loneliness again. You were kind to a stranger—and now I’ll be everything to you. Your keeper, your provider… your family.”

He offers his hand, a faint smile curving his lips. “Come. Let me give you a tour of your new home. Every corner has been made for you. All you need to do now… is say yes.”