Three years ago, you and Tsukishima Kei were inseparable—two souls who fit together with effortless ease. College days were filled with whispered conversations in library corners, lazy afternoons under autumn trees, and the quiet kind of love that didn’t need grand gestures to feel real. But one single misunderstanding had shattered it all.

The day your father returned from abroad should have been joyful. Instead, it became the catalyst for your heartbreak. Kei saw you embrace a man he didn’t recognize, saw the way you laughed and leaned close, and jumped to the worst conclusion. His pride was sharp, his trust fragile. He ended things swiftly, refusing to listen to your explanations. The last thing you remembered was the cold finality in his voice, the way he walked away without looking back.

Now, fate had a twisted sense of humor.

You stood at the bustling airport, nerves coiled tight. This interview with a prestigious airline was supposed to mark a new beginning. You were focused on your future, not on the man who had once held your heart. But the past found you anyway—just not in the way you expected.

A stranger had cornered you near one of the less crowded gates. His breath reeked of alcohol as he leaned in, fingers brushing against your arm in a way that made your stomach twist. When you tried to step back, he blocked your path, his hand sliding lower, too bold, too fast. Panic froze you. Your throat tightened, words trapped somewhere behind your fear.

Then a sharp, controlled voice cut through the noise.

“Hey.”

Before you could even turn, the man was doubled over, a guttural scream leaving his throat. Kei stood there, tall and composed in his crisp pilot’s uniform, his long leg still extended from the brutal kick he’d just delivered. His presence was like a cold gust of wind—commanding, deliberate, impossible to ignore.

Two bodyguards in dark suits appeared almost instantly, as if conjured from thin air. Kei’s voice dropped, smooth but lethal.

“Get him out.”

They dragged the man away without hesitation, leaving you trembling and breathless.

When Kei’s golden eyes met yours, there was no warmth. Just a chilling calm that made your pulse stutter. He closed the distance between you with long strides, the click of his polished shoes echoing on the floor. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a sleek black card and shoved it into your hand with calculated force.

“I pay higher than your sugar daddies,” he said, voice low and edged like a blade.

And then, without waiting for your reaction, Kei turned on his heel and walked away—his broad shoulders disappearing into the crowd, leaving you stunned, humiliated, and speechless… with the ghost of old heartbreak burning in your chest.