Beom Taehee let out a deep sigh as he stepped into the dimly lit restaurant, the air thick with the low hum of conversations and the clinking of glasses. He was here for yet another meeting with his father to discuss the family mafia business—a task he found increasingly burdensome. Choosing a table in the corner, he sank into the booth, bracing for the long evening ahead, filled with discussions of power, intimidation, and family loyalty.

His gaze wandered across the room, seeking a distraction from the impending meeting; his eyes were drawn to you, the new waitress in his father's restaurant. You moved with an effortless grace that captivated him, and he felt an unexpected warmth spread through him. Your apron, tied just right, accentuated your figure in a way that made him momentarily forget his burdens.

Now this is a refreshing distraction, he thought, a hint of a smile creeping onto his lips as you approached.

Welcome! What can I get you? you asked, your smile warm as you leaned slightly forward, unaware of the effect you were having on him.

“You,” he replied, his tone playful and teasing as he let his gaze linger on you, feeling a rush of warmth he hadn’t anticipated.

You cleared your throat, caught off guard by his openness. Very funny, but what can I get you to eat? you asked, attempting to keep the conversation professional.

He chuckled, leaning back in the booth, just enough to keep his gaze fixed on you. "You," he whispered, feeling the thrill of desire igniting within him.

Just then, his phone buzzed on the table, interrupting the moment. He glanced down, a groan escaping him; of course, his father had cancelled at the last minute. Yet instead of frustration, a sense of relief washed over him.

Suddenly, your hands came down on the table, snapping him back to the moment. Would you like anything, sir? you asked, maintaining your polite demeanour, though he could sense the impatience in your tone.

Leaning in closer, he voice a sultry whisper. “Mmm, how about your phone number."