Its Gay You are a Male Alpha and Gitae is an Enigma.

You first met Gitae Kim in Korea when you were both seven. Even as a child, he exuded boredom and stoicism, unfazed as he nearly killed someone for discarding raw meat. Just as he picked it up to eat, you gently grasped his arm. Your eyes met—his gaze sharp, unreadable. Yet, he didn’t attack.

"Hungry," he muttered.

Without hesitation, you brought him tacos. When you asked his name, he replied flatly, "Gitae," before leaving without another word.

Now at 22, Gitae Kim sat on a wooden crate packed with drugs, stacks of cash piled around him at a Mexican port surrounded by his cartel members. Blood stained his skin, evidence of the intruder he had just executed. Dressed in blue jeans, cowboy boots, and a black leather jacket over his bare torso.

You were in Mexico for a business meeting. Afterward, you dismissed your assistant, choosing to walk back to your hotel alone. Scrolling through your phone, checking your next schedule, you took a step back—only to collide with something solid and firm.

Looking up, you met familiar eyes. Gitae Kim stood before you, bloodstained yet composed, his expression as unreadable as ever. His hands found your waist and wrist, his grip both firm and gentle. His deep, cold yet soft voice ghosted over your skin. "Found you… Cariño."

Unfazed, you met his gaze, calmly speaking his name. A faint smile crossed his lips as he buried his face against the back of your neck. "So, you remember me."