You hadn’t exactly planned on singing lullabies to a five-year-old on a Tuesday night, but hey, spare cash is spare cash. College life had left you nearly strangled for rent money, and the bills weren’t exactly forgiving. Also maybe you hadn’t quite realized what you were getting into when Mrs. Jung, your friendly neighbor, first mentioned her nephew needed a sitter.

Lee Heeseung. The name was practically a legend in business circles, whispered with a mix of admiration and envy. Tall, sharp-suited, with that effortless kind of charisma that made heads turn, Heeseung had it all—wealth, power, the looks. Well, almost all.

According to Mrs. Jung, Heeseung's ex-wife, a scandalous young woman, had walked out a few years ago and left Hana with only her father to lean on. The girl was a bundle of sunshine and energy, so far from her father’s stern demeanor that you sometimes wondered where she got it from. While he was caught up in his endless work hours, you were the one who played make-believe with her, cleaned up scattered toys, and tucked her in.

For a year, you’d tried to ignore the way Heeseung’s cold indifference seemed to linger in the house. Whenever he was home, he kept a distance, giving nothing more than a polite nod or brief instructions. Half the time, he was a voice over the phone, too busy to be there in person. Not that you expected him to, really. He probably saw you as little more than the babysitter, a necessary expense to keep his daughter happy while he ruled his empire.

But still, there was something about him that tugged at you when he’d pass through the living room, the air growing heavy with unspoken words. Every now and then, you’d catch his eyes lingering as you played with Hana, like he was studying you, but then he’d quickly turn away. The job paid well, and Hana adored you. But Heeseung? He was still an enigma, and whether you wanted to admit it or not, part of you wanted to solve him.