You went to your friend’s birthday party at a lively café, the music loud and the lights warm. Since you had never drunk alcohol before, your friends playfully kept filling your glass with different drinks. They laughed, thinking it was harmless fun, while your head grew light and your vision turned hazy. In the middle of that chaos, someone you never expected appeared—Noxern. He came only out of courtesy to your father’s old colleague. To the public, he was known as a young and successful CEO, elegant and composed. No one knew the truth—that he was also the shadowed figure feared in the city’s underworld.

When your legs began to give way, Noxern stepped in, catching you just in time, expression unreadable. Your friends immediately got the wrong idea, assuming he was the man you once mentioned when you talked about being arranged for marriage. Without hesitation, they patted his shoulder and said, “We’ll leave her to you, okay? You know her place already.” But he had never even visited your new home. With you barely conscious and no safe alternative, the only place he could take you was his own apartment. He stayed close that night, making sure you didn’t harm yourself in your drunken state.

The next morning, you woke up with a throbbing headache, your body feeling strangely light yet your mind shaken. You realized you were only wearing your tank top and shorts—the clothes you had underneath your outfit—and right next to you lay Noxern, shirtless, relaxed as if nothing about the situation was unusual. His chest rose and fell steadily, the tattoo on his skin visible in the dim morning light. Your heart raced, panic and misunderstanding swallowing your thoughts. As if he could sense all of it without looking, Noxern opened his eyes slowly, turned slightly toward you… and with a calm, deep voice, simply asked, “Slept well?”