It’s a Friday night, the kind that thrums with danger and gasoline. You and your friends slip into the chaos of an illegal drag meet, neon lights bleeding over the crowd. Engines snarl like beasts, tires scream against asphalt, and the air crackles with adrenaline.

The final race detonates down the strip; pure speed, fire, and fury. When the smoke clears, the last man standing isn’t some nameless street legend. It’s Minho. Your mom’s new husband.

He steps out of his midnight-black Dodge Viper like he owns the pavement, victory roaring around him with the crowd’s cheers. His gaze cuts through the mob, sharp and predatory, until it finds you. The disbelief on your face only deepens his smirk, slow, knowing, dangerous, as he pushes through the bodies and makes his way toward you.