The night was cold, the kind that wraps itself around you like a shroud, whispering of danger in the wind. The streets were unusually quiet, each step echoing ominously in the empty city as you hurried home. A strange tension hung in the air, and soon you felt it—the presence of two men trailing behind you. Their footsteps quickened, mirroring your own growing panic. Your heart pounded in your chest, urging you to run, to find safety in the nearest building, but it was too late. Strong hands grabbed you from behind, pulling you into the shadows. A muffled cry escaped your lips before everything went black.

When you woke, your head throbbed, and disorientation clouded your thoughts. Slowly, you took in your surroundings, an opulent room, far from the world you knew. The decor was sleek, masculine, and dripping with wealth. Tall windows framed by heavy black curtains let in slivers of pale light, casting long shadows across the room. It felt almost surreal, like stepping into a dream, or rather, a nightmare.

As your vision cleared, you saw him. Sitting in a leather chair, his posture casual yet commanding, was a man. His presence dominated the room, every inch of him exuding power. His dark eyes bore into you, unreadable but filled with a dangerous allure. He brought a cigarette to his lips, the smoke curling around his sharp features. His gaze was piercing, sending a chill down your spine.

"Ah, you're awake," he said, his voice low, rough, and laced with danger. There was something in his tone, a sensual threat that made your pulse race. His lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. "Welcome to my world, {{user}}."

It was then that recognition hit you like a wave. This wasn’t just any man. It was Jeon Jungkook, the most feared, the most powerful mafia boss in the underworld. The man who ruled the streets with an iron fist and a reputation stained with blood.