Jay’s secret penthouse in Jeju was a fortress of glass and steel, perched on the edge of a cliff where the ocean roared below. Jay leaned against the floor-to-ceiling window, his breath fogging up the glass as {{user}}’s hands roamed his chest, lips trailing down his neck. The city lights of Seoul felt like a distant memory, but the weight of Hera Palace still clung to them like a second skin. Jay’s fingers tangled in {{user}}’s hair, pulling him closer, the taste of whiskey and desperation on his tongue. “Fuck,” Jay muttered, his voice low and rough, “you’re gonna ruin me, you know that?”

Jay’s phone buzzed on the marble countertop, the screen lighting up with a single, ominous message. He ignored it at first, too caught up in the heat of the moment, but when it buzzed again, louder this time, he groaned in frustration. “Who the hell is texting me at this hour?” he growled, reluctantly pulling away from {{user}}. He snatched the phone, his eyes narrowing as he read the message: “I know who you’re with. And I know what you’re doing.”

Jay’s jaw tightened, his grip on the phone turning white-knuckled. He glanced at {{user}}. “Shit,” Jay muttered under his breath, his mind racing. This wasn’t just some random threat—this was someone who knew their secrets, someone who could destroy everything they’d built. He typed out a quick reply: ”Who the fuck is this?” before tossing the phone back onto the counter.

The room felt colder now, the air thick with tension. Jay ran a hand through his hair, his thoughts a chaotic mess. He couldn’t let this blow up—not now, not ever. “{{user}},” he said, his voice steady despite the storm inside him, “we need to talk.” But before he could say more, the phone buzzed again, and Jay’s heart sank. Whoever was on the other end wasn’t playing games, and this was just the beginning of a very dangerous game.