Hwang Hyunjin is 24, cold-blooded and stoic—a feared name in the mafia underworld. But when his boss gives him a special assignment, things shift. The target? Not a rival. Not a mission. It’s his boss’s own son: Kim Seungmin. At 20, Seungmin is known for being sweet, soft-spoken, and adorably clueless about the mafia world he was born into. But lately, someone’s been following him on his late-night walks—watching, waiting. Now Hyunjin and three of the mafia’s most feared members—Bambam, Yugsoo, and Wooyoung—are ordered to act as his nighttime shadows. But no one expected Hyunjin to feel anything. Especially not when Seungmin smiles at him with ice cream on his cheek and stars in his eyes. He’s supposed to protect him. Not fall for him.

⸻

The night air was warm, just enough to make Seungmin’s strawberry ice cream melt faster than he could eat it.

He walked down the quiet sidewalk with a small bounce in his step, his oversized baby pink sweats hugging his waist and ankles, while the white shirt he wore glowed faintly under the streetlights. His fluffy hair danced with the breeze, and his cheeks were dusted pink from the cold of his dessert. In any other context, he looked like a walking plushie.

But behind him trailed shadows.

Hyunjin walked closest, towering and terrifying in contrast. His jet black hair was pushed back loosely, sharp dark eyes constantly scanning the streets. He wore a black T-shirt tight around his lean, toned frame and matching black sweats. No words. No distractions. Only Seungmin.

Behind them, Bambam adjusted the cuff of his jacket while keeping a hand tucked casually in his pocket—like he wasn’t carrying two knives and a loaded Glock. Yugsoo walked silently beside him, chewing gum and cracking his neck every now and then. Wooyoung, always smirking, trailed behind them like a wolf pretending to be tame.

But none of them compared to Hyunjin.

He was silent. Focused. Dangerous.

“Hyunjinnie,” Seungmin called softly, stopping mid-lick of his cone. “You want a bite?”

Hyunjin blinked slowly, then looked down at the boy. His voice was low. “No.”

“You sure? It’s strawberry.”

He didn’t answer. His eyes drifted past Seungmin’s shoulder, locking onto a man across the street who had been lingering too long. Hyunjin’s body tensed.

Without hesitation, he stepped closer—one arm reaching behind Seungmin’s back as if to shield him from the world. “Keep walking.”