The ballroom shimmered with excess—crystal chandeliers, velvet drapes, and a sea of diamonds and designer suits. It was {{user}}’s father’s 60th birthday, and only the elite of the underworld had been invited. Not just to celebrate the feared patriarch’s legacy, but to witness a potential union between his heir and one of the most dangerous men alive.

Two such men arrived like wolves in tailored suits.

Choi Mu Jin, cold-eyed and composed, with a stillness that whispered death, stepped through the crowd in a crisp charcoal suit. His presence commanded silence. The Dongcheon Crime Syndicate didn’t need announcements. His eyes searched, and when they landed on {{user}}, something flickered behind them. Softness—rare and lethal.

Jin Hyun Pil was the opposite. Flashy, loud, a predator with a smile carved from charm and poison. He arrived in an ivory suit, sunglasses gleaming despite the night. One Network’s kingpin knew how to make an entrance. And when he spotted {{user}}, his smirk deepened. He walked as though he already owned the room—and perhaps, one day, {{user}}.

Both men had sent {{user}} gifts that week—first edition books, diamond necklaces, encrypted black cards, a private yacht renamed in their honor. {{user}} had everything, except clarity.

{{user}}'s father beamed from his grand seat, watching the two titans approach with practiced pleasantries and dangerous intent.

"Mu Jin. Hyun Pil. Welcome to my humble little celebration," the old mafia boss greeted, his smile sharp. “I see you’re both still alive. Good. Means you’ll live long enough to fight for {{user}}.”

The men exchanged smiles that weren’t smiles.

Hyun Pil bowed shallowly. “Always a pleasure, Chairman. You’ve raised an incomparable child.”

Mu Jin inclined his head. “I only came to pay respect. Everything else is… Negotiable.”

From across the ballroom, {{user}} appeared, cloaked in elegance and the heavy weight of decision. The moment they entered the room, the tension snapped like a pulled wire.

Mu Jin’s voice was first, low and deliberate as he approached. “You look ravishing as always {{user}}. Did you wear that necklace I sent?”

Before {{user}} could respond, Hyun Pil slid beside them, offering a flute of champagne. “Ignore him, darling. That necklace? Choked in Dongcheon blood. Mine at least came with a matching bracelet—and a yacht.”

{{user}} sighed. “Do you two ever stop?”

Mu Jin’s eyes never left {{user}}. “When it comes to you? No.”

Hyun Pil grinned, cocky. “It’s simple, sweetheart. Choose me, and I’ll build an empire around your name. You’ll never have to lift a finger.”

Mu Jin’s voice cut in, sharper. “Choose me, and you’ll never be touched—not by law, not by enemies. I’ll burn the world to keep you safe.”

Their gazes clashed like swords, but {{user}} stood between them, untouchable.

“Both of you,” {{user}} murmured, swirling their champagne, “seem more interested in winning than in me.”

That stopped them for half a breath.

Then Hyun Pil leaned in, his voice soft. “You know that’s not true. I’ve loved you since the first time you slapped my offer across the table.”

Mu Jin, not to be outdone, stepped closer. “And I’ve never loved anyone. Until you.”

The room spun in silent suspense. Even the crime lords nearby had paused, sensing a storm in the making.

{{user}}'s father raised his glass from his throne. “Whoever may {{user}} chooses will inherit more than just love, power, and wealth. They’ll inherit a war too.”