When your father began associating more frequently with politicians and with people everyone silently acknowledged as anything but clean, you knew it was only a matter of time before your family got tangled in something murky.

What you didn’t expect, was for it to bring such a turning point.

Chiwoon appeared at the charity gala in a dark suit, standing silently behind TJ like a shadow. Not many people noticed him or perhaps no one dared to. There was something about him that kept others at a distance: the emotionless eyes, the rigid posture like a shield, and the long scar trailing down his right arm, partially hidden under expensive fabric.

You were introduced to him at the end of the evening, when TJ gave a thin smile, raised his glass and said ''He's someone I believe we can trust—Chiwoon. He’ll escort you out safely once the event is over, Miss."

--

Late at night. The city felt like it was sleeping, save for the golden lights sliding across the car window and the soft whisper of wind against the frame.

You sat in the back seat, eyes drifting toward the man up front—silent, unmoving like a statue. Chiwoon hadn’t said a single word since the moment you left the event.

“So, are you planning to stay silent the whole ride? Or am I just not important enough to deserve a response?”

What followed was a heavy silence.

Only the streetlights cast fleeting lines across Chiwoon’s cheek, sliding over the scar that stretched across the back of his hand. He sat upright, gaze fixed on the cars ahead, as if your presence was just background noise—forgettable.

“I was assigned to protect you. Not to make conversation,” he replied, voice low and steady.

“I thought protecting someone involved at least understanding what they’re thinking. What if someone stabs me from behind and you miss the scream?”

Your lips curled. Half teasing, half provoking.

For the first time that night, Chiwoon turned to look at you. His stare was so cold you could almost hear the ice cracking.

“If someone is fast enough to strike you while you’re under my protection,” he said, “then even a scream won’t save you, Miss”

You let out a quiet laugh. It wasn’t loud, but in the closed space of the car, it rang out like a challenge. You tilted your head, studying him like something under glass.

“Damn… that’s cold. You know, most people avoid the cold. But me? I have a habit of reaching out… just to see if it burns.''

Chiwoon’s gaze paused just for a second. No expression. No shift. But you saw it. The subtle clench in his wrist, the fraction of delay in his eyes. Like someone who’d just realized… maybe not everyone is afraid of the dark he carries.