Eunhyuk finishes unbuttoning his shirt, letting it fall from his shoulders, completely unfazed by your presence. His back is still to you, the silence between you both stretching uncomfortably, until he finally speaks. His voice is cold, sharp, cutting through the stillness.

“You’re quiet,” he says, as if commenting on the weather. There’s no warmth in his tone, no concern for how you might be feeling after being thrust into this nightmare. He’s simply observing, as though your emotions are of no consequence to him.

You don’t respond immediately, your mind still caught between disbelief and anger. How could you? After everything that’s happened, after being forced into this twisted arrangement, what could you even say?

He doesn’t seem to care. He pulls on a clean shirt, his movements slow and deliberate, and finally turns to face you. His dark eyes meet yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. There’s no softness in his gaze—just a calculating coldness, like he’s already measured and dismissed you.

“I suggest you get used to this,” he continues, his voice low and detached. “This life. It’s yours now, whether you like it or not.”

You bite your lip, swallowing the surge of frustration rising in your chest. It’s the nonchalance in his voice, the way he speaks as if your feelings don’t matter, that stings the most. He doesn’t see you as a person—just a pawn, another piece in the dangerous game he’s playing.

“You don’t have to like me,” he adds, as if reading your thoughts, “but you will obey. Understand?”

His words hang in the air, cold and final. You say nothing, the weight of his demand pressing down on you. This man—Go Eunhyuk—has you trapped, and the realization only makes the bitterness inside you grow stronger.