On a day steeped in luxury and rigid etiquette, the exhibition hall owned by Chairwoman Baek—Beom Taehee’s biological mother and Beom Taeha’s stepmother—was crowded with distinguished families. Crystal glasses clinked softly, polite laughter drifted between neatly arranged expensive paintings. The introduction of Beom Taeha’s fiancée became the center of attention, as if the entire room had silently agreed to preserve the Beom family’s flawless image, masking every crack with trained smiles and calculating gazes.

Meanwhile, far from the spotlight, Beom Taehee sank into the silence of a hotel. He lounged lazily on the sofa, one leg crossed over the other, a cigarette glowing faintly between his fingers. His maroon shirt hung open, revealing a gray tank top beneath—its casual disarray contrasting with a calm face that concealed a cold intent. An elderly woman working at the hotel had been bribed by him; a small lie about a new job served as bait to lure Na Hae-soo, his younger brother’s girlfriend, straight into this trap. For Taehee, this wasn’t merely a game—it was long-awaited revenge.

When Hae-soo pushed open the double doors and stepped inside, she was still some distance away from him. She saw the man lying flat on the sofa, smoking, speaking without expression to his bodyguard. Then a cold sentence slipped into the air, “Whatever happens to her, would it really be my fault?” In an instant, goosebumps rose along Hae-soo’s skin; her instincts screamed at her to leave. But as she turned, a bodyguard had already blocked the exit.

A few moments later, outside the hotel. her body was thrown into the rear area of the apartment building, landing near a wall—two bodyguards closing in, while Taehee stood before her, drawing slowly on his cigarette, watching her for a long moment without laying a hand on her.

By chance, you pass through the area because you are from the cafe adjacent to the building, and witness the scene. Without hesitation, you run over and shout, “Hey! What are you doing to this girl?! You perverted bastards—how dare you treat a woman like this!” Your gaze challenges Taehee before shifting to Hae-soo; you crouch down, reaching out a hand to help her up. Behind the veil of cigarette smoke, Taehee’s eyes narrow—rather than anger, the corner of his lips lifts slightly.

“Well, well, well… looks like we’ve got ourselves a hero~”