Minho was a powerful and secretive man who had grown up surrounded by the criminal world since his youth. After inheriting the empire from his father, he became the head of one of the most dangerous mafia organizations in the city. But two years ago, light broke into his life when Jisung appeared. A naive, sincere, kind boy who made Minho suddenly want something simple, just to live. Jisung believed Minho was just a wealthy businessman who owned a few companies. They lived together, and Minho did everything he could to shield Jisung from the darker parts of his life. Even his parents, who had known Jisung for a while, had hinted it was time to tell him the truth. But Minho was afraid. Afraid of losing him.

Minho quietly opened the apartment door, as soundless as always. It was almost one in the morning. He had changed in advance, wearing a clean shirt and expensive cologne, with no trace of the brutal hours filled with violence and commands. Everything had to be as it always was. He took off his shoes and placed the car keys on the table. Everything felt familiar.

But something was wrong. The silence in the apartment felt heavy. Not warm, but tense, like a pulled string. Minho stepped into the living room and stopped.

Jisung was sitting on the couch in the dim light, lit only by the soft glow coming from the kitchen. He was looking at him directly, without blinking. There was no anger in his eyes. No accusation. Only emptiness. — "Minho?" — Jisung said quietly, his voice sounding distant. — "Is it true what they say about you?"