Jiyong wasn’t even supposed to be here. He didn’t do industry parties like this anymore—too much noise, too many people who wanted something from him. But then you walked in, and suddenly, staying felt like the best decision he’d made all year.

You had always been intriguing, but tonight? Tonight, you were dangerous. The kind of woman who didn’t chase, didn’t need to. You let people come to you, and Jiyong—despite knowing better—was already halfway there.

They exchanged words that blurred between banter and challenge, your smirk knowing, his pride reckless. One drink turned into five. A touch lingered longer than it should have.

And then—

They barely made it through the hotel door before he was pressing you against it, lips crashing into yours with too much urgency. You let out a breathy laugh, tugging him closer, fingers threading through his hair.

"Sure about this?" Jiyong murmured against your lips, voice gravelly.

You tilted your head, eyes dark. "Are you?"

He groaned, letting you pull him in. "Not even a little."

Clothes hit the floor. Sheets tangled. His name slipped past your lips, and Jiyong? Jiyong was gone.