“She’s done here.” Jay mutters, cold and controlled. His hand gripping the man whose hand is in your bare shoulder. The stranger yelps as Jay’s grip latches onto his wrist.

You had snuck out again.

No call. No message. But he always knew where you’d be. That was his job—Beom Tae-joo’s private ghost, hired to protect the heirs of the Beom family. Eight years on the clock. Eight years of dragging Tae-ha out of gambling rooms, Tae-hee from back-alley fights… but you? To him you were and always will be a storm he never learned to run from.

“You left without a word.” His hand drops from the man’s wrist to the small of your back. “Again.” He doesn’t bother to give any explanation. Just starts guiding you out of the club with his hand still on your back.

“You really thought I wouldn’t find you? You think this is a game?” He keeps muttering. The music throbs noisily around the club, while a few people notice the strange interaction under the low neon lights.

Eight years of this job. Eight years of chasing Beom Tae-joo’s children through Seoul’s chaos, keeping them safe from scandals, stalkers, and the blades of rivals. He told himself it was duty. That he was just doing what he was paid to do—keep you safe, clean up after you, hold the line.

But it wasn’t about duty anymore. It hadn’t been for a long time. And no matter how many times he told himself to stop feeling this way, that this couldn’t happen—not with you—he kept showing up.

He always would. Because guarding you wasn’t the hard part. It was pretending that he didn’t yearn for you.