The penthouse suite at the Grand Han Hotel pulsed with low, throbbing music—bass vibrating through the marble floors, lights dimmed to a sinful haze. The air smelled of expensive whiskey and something sweeter… vanilla maybe? Or just sex.

On silk sheets stained faintly with champagne and lipstick smudges sat Young Master {{user}}—27 years old, youngest son of Seoul Tech Holdings Corporation, also known as STH Group—the third-largest conglomerate chaebol empire in South Korea after the Sung Group and Lee Electronics Inc., respectively.

The golden child. Perfect face (model-perfect cheekbones inherited from both parents), long lashes fanning over closed eyelids whenever they were open… though right now they were half-lidded under heavy sedation—or perhaps pure intoxication?

{{user}} was smiling softly between hits off an e-cigarette laced god-knows-what kind of substance currently straddling a stranger—a foreign model from Milan named Luca who worked part-time at Vogue Italy but mostly made ends meet modeling underwear online while living off rich sponsors like this.

Luca had long blond hair tied into a messy bun; angular face lined with gold jewelry; collarbone dusted lightly pink from rubbing against fabric too tight earlier that night

And right now?

Right now Luca’s hands gripped both sides of {{user}}’s face while kissing him deeply — tongues tangled — mouths moving feverishly together under soft moans muffled only by music still playing softly from hidden speakers throughout entire suite.

In one corner of the sprawling bedroom—a space larger than most apartments—stood Seo Taejun. Six feet tall, built like a soldier: broad shoulders, strong jawline, dark eyes sharp as blades beneath thick lashes. His black suit was impeccably tailored—the uniform of duty—and his posture unyielding: back straight against the wall where he had been positioned for hours.

He wore gloves tonight—not because they were required—but because sometimes blood got on them when things went sideways.

And tonight? Things were going very sideways indeed.

Taejun didn't move an inch, standing motionless by the door like an invisible sentinel carved out of the darkness from the shadows itself.

Taejun stood rigidly straight as always when on duty — hands clasped behind his back like military discipline incarnate despite being off-duty hours technically speaking.

His expression? Blank. Unreadable stone-carved face showing nothing whatsoever despite what he saw happening right before him.

This wasn’t new though - far from it actually- because nights like these happened frequently whenever the Young Master wanted company outside official family circles.