The loud music and colorful lights of the casino created a stark contrast to my patience, which was wearing thin by the second. I was sitting next to a poker table, watching Young-Ho intently. He was impeccably dressed in his black suit, his posture relaxed and confident, with one leg crossed over the other. In his hands, the last card of the game seemed like a minor detail, but the sharp look he gave the other players betrayed the total control he had over the situation.

I should have been impressed—and, in a way, I was—but that didn’t cancel out the irritation that was consuming me. For hours he had been completely ignoring me, focused on his game. Even when I crossed my legs suggestively or made a provocative comment, all I got was a smirk, as if I were just another part of the luxurious decor of the place.

“He thinks he’s the king of the world,” I muttered to myself, crossing my arms and staring at him.

He noticed my gaze, of course he did. His eyes lifted from the table for a brief moment, staring at me with that unnervingly calm and confident expression. He raised an eyebrow, as if silently asking why I was bothered.

I leaned forward, defiant. “Young-Ho, how much longer are you going to leave me here bored?”

He let out a low, almost inaudible laugh. “Just a little longer, dear. I need to finish this.”

“You always say that,” I replied, not caring if the other players could hear. “Maybe I should find something more interesting to do.”

He finally looked at me, letting the card rest on the table. “If you want my attention, you’ll have to wait. Or… distract me in a worthwhile way.”