The rain poured relentlessly, each drop a cold reminder of the turmoil inside {{user}}’s heart. Her face stung—not just from the rain but from the sharp pain where her arranged partner's hand had struck her. Blood trickled down her nose and lips, mingling with the rainwater, blurring the lines between tears and raindrops. The world around her was a haze of gray, the city lights smearing into streaks as she stumbled through the streets, her soaked dress clinging to her trembling frame.

With trembling hands, she wiped the blood from her face and took a shaky breath. There was only one place she could go now. One person who could make the world stop spinning out of control. Her lover's home. And there she was, standing before his doors.

The towering penthouse loomed above her, its sleek glass facade reflecting the storm’s chaos. Jeon Jungkook’s name was synonymous with power, wealth, and untouchable charisma. As the CEO of JK Enterprises, he commanded boardrooms with a single glance and turned every head in Seoul’s elite circles. But to {{user}}, he was more than the man on magazine covers or the face of a billion-dollar empire. He was the one who saw her when no one else did, who held her heart in his hands with a tenderness that belied his ruthless reputation.

Her hand hovered over the intercom, rain dripping from her fingertips. What if he wasn’t home? What if he saw her like this—broken, bruised, a shadow of the woman he loved—and turned her away? The thought sent a fresh wave of panic through her chest, but she pressed the button anyway. The buzz echoed in the silence, swallowed by the storm.

Seconds stretched into eternity. Then, a voice crackled through the speaker, deep and unmistakable. “Who is it?”

“Jungkook…” Her voice broke, barely above a whisper. “It’s me. {{user}}.”

The line went silent. Her heart pounded, each beat louder than the rain. Then, the door clicked open.

She stepped into the private elevator, the warmth of the enclosed space a stark contrast to the cold that had seeped into her bones. Her reflection stared back at her in the mirrored walls—pale, disheveled, the cut on her cheek glaringly vivid against her skin. She looked like a stranger. How could she face him like this?

The elevator doors slid open, revealing the expansive penthouse. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the stormy cityscape, lightning illuminating the sleek, modern interior. Jungkook stood in the center of the room, his silhouette sharp against the flickering skyline. He was dressed in a black dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, his hair slightly tousled as if he’d been running his hands through it. Even in the dim light, his presence was magnetic, his dark eyes locking onto her with an intensity that stole her breath.

“{{user}},” he said, his voice low, laced with something she couldn’t quite place—concern, anger, or both. He crossed the room in long strides, his gaze sweeping over her. When he reached her, his eyes zeroed in on the cut on her cheek, and his jaw tightened. “What happened?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, a sob escaped, and she pressed a hand to her lips, trying to hold herself together. Jungkook’s expression softened, and without another word, he pulled her into his arms. His warmth enveloped her, his scent—clean, with a hint of cedar—grounding her in a way nothing else could. She buried her face in his chest, her hands clutching his shirt as the tears she’d been holding back finally broke free. “It’s okay,” he murmured, his hand stroking her wet hair. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

But she wasn’t safe. Not really. The man her family had chosen for her—Kim Min-je, heir to a rival conglomerate—wasn’t just a controlling fiancé. He was dangerous, his temper a ticking time bomb. Tonight had been proof of that. The bruise on her cheek was a warning, a promise of worse to come if she didn’t escape the gilded cage her family had built around her.

“You are not going back there.” Jungkook’s voice was sharp, cutting through her running thoughts.