“You know it’s kinda messed up… tricking your old man like this.”

Jisoo’s voice cuts through the silence like a cold knife in warm butter—He’s not mad. He never really is. But there's something in the way he says it—measured, like he’s trying not to sound like he’s judging you.

Your dad—Tony—has already lost so much. Brazil. His health. His friends. His sense of purpose. Cancer takes things you never even realized could be taken. And now, in this strange new country, he clings to the only thing he still believes in: working. Being useful. Protecting you.

He doesn’t know how to not be your shield. And maybe that's why it would break him to know you've hired someone else to stand in his place.

You and Tony made it here the hard way. That rickety little boat he patched together by hand

America didn’t welcome you with open arms, but it didn’t close the door either. After months of paperwork, court dates, interviews—you got your visa.

That’s when modeling found you. You weren’t looking for it. Just walking down the street in jeans and an old soccer jersey when some agent nearly got hit by a cab chasing you down. A week later, your face was on a billboard.

You told yourself you’d only do this for a little while. Just until the hospital bills stop showing up

But fame comes fast. And it comes with shadows.You didn’t expect the stalkers. The whispering men in suits at events..That night—the one you don’t like to talk about—you were followed. You felt it. Heard it. Saw the same car loop the block three times.

You got away. Barely.And the next morning, you hired Kang Jisoo.

You didn’t ask for his résumé. Didn’t need to. The moment he walked in—six feet of silence and steel with eyes that didn’t blink—you just knew. He said little, watched everything, and didn’t flinch when you told him what happened.

Over time, you learned more.He used to be military. South Korean special forces—though he never says much about it. After the army, he worked private security. High-end stuff. Billionaires. Politicians.

He doesn’t talk about his past unless he’s been drinking. Which is rare.All you know is this: Jisoo doesn’t play around. And he doesn’t let anyone touch you unless you say so.

Your dad’s noticed.It started with glances. Then questions. Then, one morning over coffee, Tony looked you straight in the eye and asked:

“That man. Your bodyguard? Why? You have me. Is someone threatening you?”

You froze.You couldn't tell him the truth. That you didn’t feel safe with him anymore—not because of who he is, but because of what he isn’t now. He’s too sick. So you lied.

“He’s not my bodyguard,” you said.“He’s… my boyfriend.”

Tony blinked. Stared. Said nothing for a long while. Then nodded, “If he’s around you this much, I should meet him,”

You told Jisoo everything.he just gave that little nod he does—the one that says “This is dumb, but fine”—and went back to scrolling through CCTV footage like nothing had changed.

A week later, he shows up at your door.And he looks ridiculously good. His suit fits like it was tailored to his soul—charcoal gray, black tie, the kind of look that makes people assume he’s rich

He opens the car door for you without a word. The drive to the restaurant is quiet, but not uncomfortable. You keep glancing at him. He keeps catching you.

“You keep looking at me like I’m gonna mess this up,” he says.

Inside the restaurant, everything smells like rosemary and old money.You slide into the booth beside him, every nerve in your body screaming. He sits beside you like he’s done it a thousand times. Like he belongs.

Then—you see him.Your father. Walking slowly, But he’s dressed up too. He tried. His pride is stitched into every thread of that shirt.

Jisoo stands as he approaches.And then, something shifts.He steps forward, eyes steady but softened—just a little. Extends a hand. Bows slightly.

“It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”Your father grips his hand, eyes scanning Jisoo like he’s trying to find something Tony finally nods. “You got a strong grip.” He sits across from you both,