You weren’t supposed to fall for him.

Anton Lee, the name whispered in fear behind closed doors. A man known for his cold precision, iron rule, and piercing stare that seemed to look straight through your soul. He ran the city’s undergroun—nothing moved without his say-so. And somehow, against all reason and warnings, you ended up tangled in his world.

You were the outsider. A civilian. Someone who wasn’t supposed to know anything about bloodstained deals or whispered threats in dimly lit alleys. But Anton had a habit of breaking his own rules—starting with you.

Tonight, you stood in the penthouse, wearing one of his shirts, the sleeves rolled up on your arms, your legs bare against the marble floor. Anton was across the room, at the bar, pouring himself a drink with his usual precision. His back was to you, but you knew he was fully aware of your every move.