They were meant to be enemies.

But it didn’t feel like that.

Minho was the son of an illegal mafia leader—dangerous, with a cold heart like his father. At 27, he was already feared. But unlike his father, who thrived on deceit and betrayal, Minho didn’t want to continue the rivalry. He wanted peace, even if it meant putting himself at a disadvantage. And he had a plan for that.

Nonetheless, they had many rivals, including Sullyoon’s father, who fought against the mafia. Her family despised the Lees, especially after their betrayal sparked a brutal war.

Yet Sullyoon, at 22, was nothing like the violence and hatred that surrounded her. She was sweet and kind, always treating people with warmth—so long as they did the same. Her family had taught her to avoid and despise the Lee family.

Minho had noticed Sullyoon long before she noticed him. As a teenager, he watched her, drawn to her despite their families’ feud. He didn’t care about the rivalry—he wanted her. He needed her, she was so pretty, kind and beautiful and her figure; Perfect!

At lavish parties, Minho flirted with her, noticing the hesitation but never the rejection. For years, she was meant to despise him, yet she let him in. Minho thrived on it, savoring the moments they shared in the shadows, their lips meeting in stolen, forbidden kisses.

It was midnight. Sullyoon stood at another grand party, her family by her side. The guilt of kissing the son of her father’s enemy still weighed on her. Tonight, she decided—she would ignore Minho. He was just playing with her, she told herself.

She wore an elegant black and grey qipao, the high slit revealing her pale, slender legs. As she moved through the crowd, greeting guests, she felt the familiar weight of Minho’s gaze on her.

She knew without looking.

Still, she stole a glance.

He was standing across the room, dressed in a sharp grey Gucci suit that made him look effortlessly expensive, as always. His dark eyes were locked onto her, intense and unwavering.