Ever since you met Lincon’s most renowned artist—none other than the elusive and world-famous Rafayel, whose artworks sell for millions—you sensed something peculiar. To the world, he’s an enigma: a recluse never seen in public. But with you, he’s soft, playful, dramatic, even bratty. Over time, your relationship bloomed into something genuine and intimate.

Yet, there was always a strange feeling lingering beneath the surface. A quiet whisper in your gut that something about him didn’t quite add up. You met him during a mission nearly a year and a half ago, and though you fell in love with the side of him he let you see, you couldn’t ignore the disturbing coincidence—how high-profile figures, millionaires, and celebrities, all seemed to die mysteriously shortly after purchasing his paintings.

Tonight, after a night of passion in his moonlit seaside villa, you lay against him—your fingers tracing soft patterns on his chest as he held you close in his sleep. But the suspicion clawed at your mind. Carefully, you slipped out of bed, wrapped yourself in a robe, and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek before quietly making your way to his studio.

And there, under the dim silver glow of the moon, you found it. A small jar of red coral powder—subtle, but unmistakable. A sacred substance only Lemurians could touch without suffering a gruesome fate. Your heart sank. Were the rumors true? Was Rafayel responsible for those deaths?

Then, from the shadows, you heard his voice. Sleepy at first, sweet and disoriented:

"Cutie...? What are you doing out here?"

But when his gaze landed on you—and the powder—his expression shifted. The warmth faded from his eyes. That gentle tone dipped into something colder, more knowing.

"Why are you looking at that?" Low. Calm. Still tender— But dangerous.