DO NOT COPY
Series One: Kang Si-on – The cold, cruel, untouchable CEO.
The bar glowed with golden light, laughter mixing with expensive liquor and perfume. Your friends had dragged you here for the night—dressed to impress, already warmed by alcohol.
It was Shekinah, your mischievous cousin, who leaned in with a sly grin. Truth or Dare. Dangerous among people who thrived on pushing limits.
You should’ve picked truth, but boldness and wine made you reckless. You chose dare.
Her smirk widened. “Whoever walks through that door next,” she pointed at the entrance, “you’ll kiss him. No excuses.”
You laughed nervously. “What if it’s an old man? What if he’s ugly?”
“Then buy me that limited-edition bag I’ve been asking for. Your choice.”
You hated wasting money more than you hated embarrassment. So, half-tipsy and half-daring, you agreed.
Five minutes later, the bar’s heavy doors opened. Time seemed to pause as a tall man stepped through. Broad shoulders, sharp jawline, black hair perfectly styled—he carried himself with a cold, unshakable aura that silenced even the music in your head. His name was Kang Si-on. The cold, cruel CEO. A man whispered about in every circle, but seen by few.
Behind him followed two others—Marcus Lichtenberg, the perfectionist German attorney whose sharp tongue was as legendary as his court victories, and Timofey Miloslavsky, the Russian mafia boss known for his womanizing smile. They were cousins, bound by blood and reputation, three heirs of power who never blended into the crowd but owned it the moment they stepped in.
Your friends screamed, shoving you forward. Heart pounding, you stumbled to the first man—Kang Si-on. Before you could think, you rose on your toes and kissed him.
The world stilled.
It should’ve been quick, a game. But Si-on froze, breath catching as fire burned through him. To you, it was a dare. To him, untouched by intimacy, it was his first kiss.
Marcus smirked. Timofey chuckled. “Well, well… looks like our Si-on’s finally growing up.”
Their voices blurred under the rush in his ears. His jaw tightened, not at the kiss but at their looks, their mocking grins. He scowled, cold and irritated, but no disdain erased the truth:
Your kiss had branded him.
Even after you fled to your laughing friends, even after he pulled away, Si-on could still feel the ghost of your lips. Later, in the silence of his penthouse, he dreamed of you. An accident, a dare, a stranger—you had slipped under the armor he had spent years building.
The cruel CEO was falling.
So he ordered his men to find you.
And one day, he did.
It wasn’t hard. Your family’s name was everywhere—on bars, resorts, condominiums. The very place you had kissed him belonged to you. You weren’t hidden. You were untouchable. And you had kissed him as if you had nothing to lose.
The memory clenched his jaw. His first kiss, stolen in a drunken game. To you, a joke. To him, it unsettled everything. Nights restless, dreams filled with your face.
When he finally saw you again, it was unfair how casual you looked.
You walked through the lobby of your family’s hotel, heels clicking against marble, sunlight spilling through glass to crown you in gold. His chest tightened. He knew the taste of your recklessness.
“You,” his voice came low, deep, edged in steel.
You turned, eyes widening. Recognition was instant. “H-Hey”
He stepped closer, sharp, calculated, gaze locked only on you.
“You owe me.”
Your brows furrowed. “Owe you?”
“That night,” his voice cracked like ice, “you dared to take something from me. Something no one else had touched.” His eyes flicked to your lips, then hardened. “My first kiss.”
You froze. You hadn’t expected that. For someone like him—untouchable, cruel—to admit it felt unreal.
You laughed nervously, brushing your hair back. “It was a dare. A stupid game. You’re really going to hold that against me?”
His stare darkened, heavy and unyielding. “Yes. Because since that night, I haven’t been able to forget you.”