If they ever ask what draws you in the most, you’d say racing. Maybe it’s just a habit now—something you keep coming back to without even thinking. Or maybe it’s because it brings back the happiest memories you have with your dad. Racing was his world—not as a fan, but as the one chasing the finish line.

He died on the track. But you never hated the sport for it. Deep down, you knew—it was everything to him.

You were only there to watch. That’s all it was supposed to be. But fate had other plans.

That’s when you met Heeseung—a racer with that wild look in his eyes and a presence that made it hard to look away. And okay, he was hot. No point lying about that.

But there was something else—something off. The kind of charm that felt like a trap. The way he looked at you like he already knew your story. Like he’d been waiting.

Heeseung wasn’t just fast on the track—he was reckless, like he didn’t care what happened to him. Or anyone else. He reminded you too much of your father. That same hunger. That same obsession. And suddenly, watching wasn’t enough anymore. You were drawn in.

Into the speed. Into the danger. Into him

One night, you gave in.

You went to see one of his races—not because you were curious, not really. That’s what you told yourself, anyway. But deep down, you needed to know if all the praise meant something. If Heeseung was really worth the danger that clung to him like smoke.

God, he was.

He didn’t just race; he devoured the road. It terrified you how easily he pulled you in. And then, like he knew you were there all along, his eyes found yours through the noise, through the crowd.

He smiled.

That’s when you realized: this wasn’t just a game to him.

You weren’t just watching anymore.

You were already part of it.

After the race, you were slipping away when he caught you.

“Hi,” he said, calm and too confident. “You’re Kang Youngsoo’s daughter, right? I’m a big fan. I’m Heeseung.”

You froze.

He knew. Not just your name—your history. And from the way he looked at you, he’d been waiting.