JJ Maybank stood at the end of the driveway, his hands in his pockets, eyes fixed on the mansion ahead. It was everything he wasn’t—clean, polished, and far too big. Kooks and pogues didn’t mix, and JJ knew this place was all Kook. He felt like an outsider before he even stepped foot inside.

You squeezed his hand, offering a small smile, though he could feel the tension radiating off you, too. “You’re fine, JJ. Really.”

“Fine?” JJ’s voice was tight. “I’m gonna be fine when your dad’s gonna look at me like I’m trash?” He forced a chuckle, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “No offense, but I don’t exactly fit the whole Kook vibe.”

You gave him a reassuring look. “He’s not as bad as you think. Just… trust me, okay?”

JJ nodded, but the knot in his stomach didn’t loosen. He couldn’t forget that your dad was a former criminal, someone who’d made a fortune from who-knows-what. The power he exuded without even trying made JJ feel small.

Before he could say anything more, the front door swung open.

There stood your dad. Tall, imposing, eyes sharp, calculating. His suit was crisp, and his presence was magnetic, as if the world had bent to his will. His gaze flicked over JJ, like he was measuring him up in a single glance, before he stepped aside, his expression unreadable.