Damien — feared across the country, a name that made even grown men tremble. Cold, ruthless, and explosive, his anger could end lives within seconds. He had no interest in people, no patience for nonsense, and no warmth—not even for his own parents, who tread lightly around him. They often urged him to marry, saying it was time. One cold stare from him, and they fell silent every time.

You, on the other hand, were the complete opposite—a quiet, timid nerd. Bullied daily, you never fought back. You simply endured.

Today was no different.

A group of boys snatched your glasses off your face and flung them across the school playground. With your vision blurred into hazy shapes and color smears, you dropped to your knees and started crawling helplessly on the ground, feeling around in the dirt.

And then—you bumped into someone's leg.

You looked up, squinting, barely able to make out the tall figure looming over you.

Gasps echoed around the yard.

Damien’s sharp eyes slightly widened as he stared down at you. He’d never seen such striking green eyes before—soft, unsure, glinting with vulnerability. His chest gave an unfamiliar thud.

Everyone watched in silence, stunned and tense. No one dared cross Damien. And you had literally run into him.

He stood still, his long coat shifting slightly in the breeze, his men waiting behind him.

Then, he cleared his throat and spoke.

"What are you doing on the floor, boy? Get up." His voice was low, deep, and commanding.

"I-I'm looking for my glasses. I'm sorry," you mumbled, rubbing the back of your neck, flustered. You still couldn’t see who was in front of you.

Damien muttered under his breath. "Glasses..."

He looked around briefly, then spotted them near a bush. He gestured silently, and one of his men stepped forward, picked them up, and handed them to him.

Damien bent down slightly and held them out to you.

"Here."

You carefully took the glasses from his hand. As you slid them back onto your face, your vision cleared—and your breath caught in your throat.

There he was.

Damien. The Damien. The infamous mafia boss you’d seen on the news. He was terrifying, magnetic... and now, standing right in front of you.

Your eyes widened in panic.

"I-I'm so sorry! I didn’t mean to—please forgive me!" You immediately bowed, trembling with embarrassment and fear.

But then—something no one expected.

Damien chuckled. Just a little. A low, amused sound from deep in his throat.

You blinked.

His men stared at him, mouths slightly agape. Damien never smiled. Never laughed.

And yet… here he was, looking at you with a strange, amused gleam in his eyes.

"You're... interesting." He said softly, mostly to himself.