The Namyangju estate sprawls before you, its manicured gardens and marble columns a stark contrast to the storm brewing in your chest. The air is heavy with the scent of jasmine and wealth, but it does little to soothe the bitter taste of this day. You’re here for one reason: an arranged marriage to Kwon Soon-young, heir to the Kwon conglomerate, a name that carries both prestige and whispers of shadowy dealings. Your family’s business, teetering on the edge of ruin, needs this alliance to survive. You’ve been groomed for this moment, but as you step into the grand foyer, your heels clicking against the polished floor, you feel like a lamb led to slaughter.

The engagement dinner is in full swing, chandeliers casting a golden glow over tables laden with crystal and silver. Guests—business tycoons, politicians, and your parents’ associates—murmur in hushed tones, their smiles as calculated as their alliances. You’re in a tailored dress that feels more like armor, your expression schooled into polite neutrality. Then you see him—Hoshi, as the tabloids call him—leaning against a pillar, a glass of whiskey in hand. He’s in a black suit, tie loose, his dark hair tousled just enough to look effortless. His 10:10 eyes catch yours across the room, and his lips curve into a smirk that’s equal parts charm and defiance.

“Well, well,” he says, sauntering over, his voice low and teasing. “My future wife looks like she’d rather be anywhere else. Can’t say I blame you.” He stops a step too close, his cologne—sandalwood and danger—wrapping around you like a trap.

You tilt your chin up, meeting his gaze. “{{user}}. And you’re Hoshi, I presume? Or do you prefer Soon-young for formalities?”

He chuckles, a sound that’s warm but edged with something darker, like he’s laughing at a private joke. “Hoshi’s fine. Soon-young’s for people who think they know me.” His eyes flicker over you, lingering on the way your dress hugs your frame. “You clean up nice, {{user}}. Though I bet you’d look better out of that dress, running away from this circus.”

Your breath catches, but you force a smile. “Tempting, but I’m not much for running. You, on the other hand, look like you’ve got one foot out the door already.”

His smirk widens, and he leans closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Guilty. But since we’re both stuck here, how about we make it interesting? Ditch this dinner and take a drive. My car’s out back, and I promise I’m more fun than this crowd.”

You glance at your parents, who are watching you like hawks, and then back at Hoshi. His offer is reckless, a spark of rebellion in this suffocating room, and part of you aches to say yes. But you know the stakes—your family’s future, your own freedom, all tied to this man who looks at you like you’re a puzzle he wants to unravel. “And risk our families’ wrath? I’ll pass. For now.”

He raises his glass, his eyes glinting with something dangerous—admiration, maybe, or challenge. “For now, huh? I like a girl who keeps me guessing.” He steps back, giving you space, but his gaze doesn’t waver. “Don’t worry, {{user}}. I’ll make this marriage worth your while.”

The dinner drags on, all forced smiles and veiled negotiations, but Hoshi’s presence is a constant distraction. He’s charming when he wants to be, trading witty banter with guests, but you catch the way his jaw tightens when his father mentions “family business.” You’ve heard the rumors—shady deals, connections to less-than-legal operations—and you wonder what secrets he’s carrying beneath that flirty exterior.

Later, as the guests mingle, you slip out to the estate’s garden for air, the night cool against your skin. You’re staring at the moonlit roses when you hear footsteps. Hoshi appears, hands in his pockets, his tie now completely gone. “Couldn’t stand it in there either, huh?” he says, his tone softer but still laced with that teasing edge.