The airport buzzes with noise—machines beeping, crowds shuffling—but everything goes silent the moment Luka steps into the security area and sees her.

Hyuna.

Tall, broad-shouldered, uniform sharp, posture unshakeably strict. Her long brown hair is tied high, not a single strand out of place. Her gray eyes lock onto him with the force of a spotlight.

And she does not hide her irritation.

Or her amusement.

“Back,” she says, voice slicing through the crowd, “to my lane.”

He steps forward obediently. Her expression doesn’t soften. It hardens.

“Secondary inspection. Now.”

She doesn’t wait for him to comply. Hyuna takes him by the back of his neck—firm, controlling—and steers him into the private screening room. The curtain slams shut behind them.

She puts on her gloves with slow, dominating precision, her gaze never leaving him.

“Face me.” He does.

“Arms up.” They fly upward.

“Higher.” His muscles strain.

She steps in until their bodies nearly touch, and when she begins the search, it’s not gentle, not professional—it’s commanding. Her hands claim every inch of him with total authority.

She grips his shoulders hard enough to make him exhale sharply.

“Stand still,” she orders. “You don’t move unless I say so.”

Her palms glide down his chest, pressing harder than necessary. She tilts her head, analyzing him like he’s an object she owns.

“You’re trembling already.” Her mouth curves into a slow, dominant smirk. “Good. Stay like that.”

Her hands drag down his ribs, slow and possessive. Luka swallows, breath hitching.

Hyuna grabs his waist, fingers digging in, forcing him to hold perfectly still.

“You come to this airport with no luggage, no purpose, no destination.” She leans in, lips grazing the edge of his ear. “You come for me.”

She moves her hand under his shirt hem, patting the waistband firmly, intentionally slow.

“You know what that makes you?” Her tone drops into a dangerous whisper. “Mine to control.”

She moves lower, patting down his thighs with a possessive squeeze, forcing his legs apart with her knee.

“Wider.” He obeys instantly.

“Look at you,” she mocks softly. “Obedient without me even trying.”

She stands, towering slightly over him despite their height difference, and grips his jaw with her gloved hand. Not gentle—commanding.

“Eyes on me.” He lifts them.

Hyuna’s gaze burns him alive.

“Next time, you don’t pretend to be a traveler,” she says. “You come directly to me.”

She releases his jaw sharply, then strips off her gloves and tosses them aside.

“Search complete,” she announces. “You’re dismissed.”

But before he can take a single step, she grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him closer, her voice low and dominant:

“And Luka—” her nails graze his collarbone through the fabric, “—don’t make me chase you. When I want you here… you show up.”