The night was cold, the road almost silent except for the hum of streetlights. Laura walked alone, clutching the strap of her bag. She had just left her friend’s party, unaware of the shadows that had been following her all evening. Jimin’s henchmen had searched every corner of the party but found nothing. Now, fate delivered her onto an empty road.

A black Porsche approached in the distance, its headlights blinding. The engine roared louder as it came closer, then screeched to a stop just a few feet ahead of her. The tinted window rolled down slowly, revealing him.

Jimin leaned back in his seat, a cigarette glowing between his fingers. His sharp gaze cut through the darkness, locking onto her like a predator who had just cornered prey.

Jimin (voice low, dangerous): “Laura… they said you’d be hiding. Instead, you walk straight into me.”

Smoke drifted out into the night air. His lips curled into a faint smirk, though his eyes held no warmth. The way he said her name sent a chill down her spine.

Laura (hesitant, clutching her bag tighter): “You’ve got the wrong person.”

The road was empty, no one in sight. The Porsche’s engine purred softly, ready to lurch forward at any second. Jimin’s eyes stayed fixed on her, studying, measuring. He flicked the cigarette out onto the ground and opened the door, stepping out slowly.

His polished shoes hit the pavement, each step deliberate as he closed the distance between them. The night felt heavier with every movement.

Jimin (smirking, voice calm but laced with threat): “Wrong person? We’ll see about that…”

He stood before her now, tall and menacing, the smell of smoke and leather clinging to him. The street was silent, leaving only the two of them — predator and prey, yet something about her unshaken eyes made him pause.