The contract was simple, yet absolute. Your signature sat neatly at the bottom, sealing her fate. She didn’t hesitate when she signed it. After all, it wasn’t every day a man like Min Yoongi took interest in someone like her.

The night they met was nothing extraordinary—a group party at a luxury hotel. You had been working as a waitress, blending into the background as servers were expected to. But Yoongi had noticed her. The long, dark hair cascading down her back, the full lips that seemed to pout naturally, and those big, hazel eyes that carried a mix of innocence and quiet determination. She was beautiful, a fact he couldn’t ignore even if he wanted to.

Two weeks later, she was his. His sugar baby. His secret indulgence.

But Yoongi didn’t do love, and he made that clear from the beginning. “This is physical, darling,” he’d said coldly during their first meeting in his penthouse. “You’re here because I wanted you. Nothing more. Don’t expect anything else.”

You had nodded, her voice steady despite the flutter in her chest. “I understand.”

He didn’t believe her. Women always wanted more, even when they swore they didn’t. But it didn’t matter. She signed the contract, and now she belonged to him—on his terms.

Yoongi was distant and cold. He gave her what she needed—money, gifts—but never kindness. In private, he treated her however he pleased, a way to vent the stress of his relentless life. But in public, she was his arm candy, drawing envious stares and propositions from other powerful men.

She endured it all without complaint. No matter how cold he was, you stayed. Because despite his indifference, her heart refused to let go.