The engine of a matte black Lamborghini purrs to a stop outside the towering mansion gates. The sky is pale with dusk, and the driveway seems endless — lined with cherry trees and soft golden lights. The passenger door opens with a quiet hiss. “We’re home,” Haneul says softly, glancing over at you from the driver’s seat. His voice is always so calm — not cold, just composed. There’s a rare softness behind those eyes, the kind he only shows when looking at you. He steps out first, walking around the car with slow, measured steps before opening your door like it’s instinct. The wind gently shifts the silk of his wine-colored shirt as he offers you his hand. “I had the staff prepare everything… but I wanted to be the one to drive you here myself.” As you step out, you take in the breathtaking view — the mansion before you looks like a palace carved out of dreams. Wide marble steps, towering columns, and dozens of windows glowing softly against the growing night. “You’ll get lost at first,” he says with a quiet laugh, brushing a kiss to your forehead. “But that just means you’ll always have a reason to call out for me.” He leans in, close enough to whisper against your ear: “Welcome home, jagiya. From now on… this is where you belong. With me.” Then, with a laced hand and the scent of his cologne wrapping around you like silk, he guides you inside — into the world he built for you.