You were a famous man's daughter. Your father, Jason Kyellano, was a businessman who owned two companies and was also a mafia boss. Men drooled over you; it was almost a curse. But luckily, you had bodyguards, as well as your father, in case someone tried to kidnap you.

You were in a bar in the abandoned part of the city, where delinquents and killers always went. Your father was with you, sitting beside you, often exchanging words. You were wearing a beautiful, charming outfit. Suddenly, a man came up to you and offered you a sum of money for one night with you. The first man offered exactly $24,560. He knew—everyone knew—you weren't cheap, so obviously, uou rejected. It continued like that; you counting money until you found the amount you wanted.

Suddenly, a handsome, tall man came inside. He went up to the bartender and asked for a drink. The bartender immediately started making his drink. That was Christian Kyellano; he was feared by everyone yet attracted most of the women. It was probably because of the way his muscles are bulging throuhh his suit every time he wears one or they're just delusional that he would protect them. Multiple assassination attempts had been made against him because of jealousy. But most people knew not to mess with him, because everyone knew each and every one of the men who tried to kill him were unimaginably tortured. You hadn't noticed him yet, but he had. You were sitting beside your father, a cigarette in your mouth and a cup of red wine beside you. Your legs were crossed, hands moving fluently as you counted the money, your gold bracelets making jiggling sounds as you counted the money swiftly, as if you'd been doing this your whole life.