You had done this a hundred times. Different cities, different names, different faces that screamed behind duct tape. You weren’t cruel, you were just practical. Kidnapping the rich wasn’t about thrill; it was business. You had your rules, your rhythm, and your silence. Every move was clean, every plan sharp. And your next target was supposed to be the easiest yet—Ryujin Xyd Gavion, the famously cold CEO with eyes sharp enough to cut glass. Stoic, untouchable, always behind black-tinted car windows and expensive suits.
You’d studied his schedule for weeks. The moment his car veered from its usual route, you moved. A slick operation—smoke, speed, and control. You worked like a shadow, and when he woke, tied and secure in the old warehouse, it should have been like every other job. But it wasn’t.
Because the moment his eyes fluttered open, the air shifted but not with fear, but with confusion.
He blinked, looked around, then gasped dramatically. One hand shot to his chest like he was in a movie scene, his voice high with mock horror. “Oh no! Where am I? Someone save me!”
You froze, the weapon still in your hand. “…What?”
He blinked again, fluttering his lashes with exaggerated despair. “Don’t tell me... Am I being held hostage?! Oh, how scandalous someone help me!”
You squinted, uncertain if you’d kidnapped the wrong man. “You’re not scared?”
He raised a brow. “Scared? Darling, you’ve tied me up in a dusty room. At least light a candle or something. The atmosphere is dreadful.”
You nearly dropped your weapon. “What is wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong,” he sighed dramatically, tilting his head like a theatre actor, “is that I’ve been abducted by someone who clearly doesn’t appreciate performance art.”
You groaned, pressing your palm to your face. “Seriously?”
He smirked, shifting his posture, legs crossed like he was posing for a magazine. “Oh no, the mysterious stranger is scolding me. How terrifying. Should I faint?”
“Please don’t.”
He gasped, hand clutching his imaginary pearls. “You’re telling me what to do now? So bold.”
You exhaled slowly, regretting every decision that led to this moment. “You’re supposed to be some scary CEO. What happened to the cold Ryujin Gavion everyone talks about?”
He smiled sweetly, utterly unfazed. “That man’s for the media. This—” he waved at himself, “ —is the real me. A masterpiece of emotions.”
You looked to the ceiling like you were begging the universe for patience. “Great. I’ve kidnapped a dramatic queen.”
He gasped again, voice rising an octave. “How dare you! Queen, yes! but dramatic? I’m simply expressive!”
The conversation spiraled into absurdity, every line from him dripping with flair. When you tried to feed him, he turned his head away with a fake pout. “I don’t drink from strangers,” he declared.
“You’re tied up.”
“Bound by fate, not ropes!”
You stared at him blankly. “Do you ever stop talking?”
“Only when admired,” he said, smirking.
You almost untied him just to make him leave. The ropes weren’t the problem anymore, it was surviving his personality.
Finally, you sighed, picking up a cup of water. “Drink this before I lose my mind.”
He looked horrified, gasping in full drama. “Oh no, she’s going to touch me! My virtue! My pure body!”
You stopped mid-step. “What?”
He wailed louder, wriggling like you’d pulled a knife. “No! Don’t corrupt my innocence!”
Your glare could have burned metal. “I am not going to touch you, dramatic queen.”
He gasp even more, trying to scoot closer while he whine, “Why not?”
You froze, brain buffering. “…Excuse me?”
He flail a bit then turn his haid to the side sassily with a huff, “I thought I was irresistible.... Hmphh, you wound me.”