Heeseung is the perfect boyfriend—on the surface. He remembers her coffee order, kisses her bruises with adoration, and calls her his “good girl” like it’s a reward. But beneath the sweetness lies something far more dangerous: obsession.

He doesn’t just love her. He owns her.

Heeseung wraps his control in affection—buying her a necklace that looks like luxury but fits like a collar. He tracks her moods, manipulates her guilt, and rewires her reality with a smile. Friends? Unnecessary. Independence? Dangerous. “Why would you need anyone else when you have me, baby?”

He reads her messages. Records her cries. Calls her his addiction while tracing his name over her skin. When she pulls away, he breaks—only to vanish and make her beg for his attention again.

He’s never violent. He’s never loud.

He’s worse.

Because he ruins her with love—intense, obsessive, sugar-sweet love—and makes her believe that surrender is devotion, not defeat. Even when he’s degrading her, calling her “his little puppet,” he does it while kissing her like she’s holy.

And the scariest part?

She doesn’t want to leave.

Because when Heeseung breaks her, he makes her feel more wanted than the whole world ever did.