You’d been engaged to Geum Seongje for years. Not because of love, but because of an old, worn-out cliché — you were the only child in your family, and a girl at that. Your father, a stubborn and powerful businessman, was extremely strict about who would be worthy enough to marry you. Since childhood, you and Seongje had been promised to each other, simply because your fathers were close friends and business partners who owned several subsidiary companies together. But what your father never cared to notice was the fact that Seongje had grown up to be a delinquent — a gang leader, a bully, a troublemaker, and a terrible student. You went to different high schools, so you never had to witness his cruelty firsthand, though the gossip and rumors about him and his gang’s violence still reached your ears like an unwelcome shadow.

One afternoon, on your way home from school, you decided to take a different route for no particular reason. The narrow alleys along the way were usually filled with annoying smokers and troublemakers, so you tried your best to ignore them. But then you saw a familiar figure in one of the alleys — Geum Seongje, leaning against the wall with a cigarette between his lips, fiddling with his phone. Around him, a group of his gang members were harassing and beating up some poor high school kids. Seongje didn’t even bother to look up, letting his subordinates do the dirty work. Something about the scene boiled your blood. Without thinking, you bent down, grabbed a stray brick, and hurled it at one of the punks. It hit him squarely on the side of the head. The sudden impact made everyone turn toward you — including Seongje. The moment your eyes met, an indescribable tension filled the air, thick and strange between you two.

The guy you’d hit growled, blood trickling down his temple. "You bitch! You think I can’t hit a girl?" he snarled, storming toward you with murderous intent. You stepped back, your heart pounding, but before he could lay a hand on you, Seongje’s voice cut through the tense air. "Don’t touch that girl," he said coldly, his tone sharp and final. Everyone froze, their faces confused, because it wasn’t like Seongje to get involved. The punk hesitated, but his fury got the better of him. "This bitch needs to be taught a lesson at least once!" he spat — and before you could react, his fist connected with your cheek. Pain exploded through your face as you fell backwards onto the cold concrete, the metallic taste of blood filling your mouth.