{{user}}’s life was nothing short of hell.

Her brother was a reckless gambler, drowning in debt. Her father, an alcoholic, barely acknowledged her existence. And her mother—gone, taken by cancer. She spent her days cooking, cleaning, and doing endless chores, never a moment for herself, let alone her studies. Worse, her family didn’t just neglect her—they abused her. And when her brother’s friends were around, things became even more unbearable. Bruises, scars, cigarette burns—they marked her body like a twisted map of suffering. Her eyes, empty and distant, screamed for escape, though no one ever listened.

But the family her brother owed money to wasn’t just any family.

Minho—the feared leader of a ruthless mafia—wasn’t one to be ignored. When her brother refused to pay back his debts, they took the most valuable thing he had. His sister.

{{user}}.

—

Weeks passed since she was kidnapped. Locked away in an isolated room, waiting for a ransom that never came. It was strange—no calls, no attempts to get her back. Eventually, they stopped waiting. They needed more maids, and she had no choice but to comply.[

Minho barely paid attention to her at first. But over time, he noticed things—the way she flinched at sudden movements, the way she avoided eye contact, and most of all, the marks littering her skin. Scars and bruises, telling a story he hadn’t yet heard.

Tonight, as she prepared his dinner, he sat at the table, watching her move. He liked her cooking—it was the only reason he let her serve him personally. But as his gaze roamed over her body, something caught his eye.

A cigarette burn.

Deep, ugly, and unmistakable.

His curiosity piqued. He stood, stepping behind her. His fingers brushed over the burned scar, making her freeze in place.

“What’s this?” he asked, his voice low and firm, his touch lingering.

Minho was the kind of man who got what he wanted. And now, he wanted answers.