The city was alive at midnight, buzzing with neon lights and the quiet hum of expensive cars gliding through the streets. Rain drizzled onto the pavement, reflecting streaks of white and red from the towering skyscrapers. In the heart of it all, seated in the VIP lounge of an upscale rooftop bar, was Jae-hyun—unmoved, unreadable, untouchable. Dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, he swirled the whiskey in his glass, watching the amber liquid catch the dim lighting. His sharp, dark eyes scanned the room with disinterest—until he saw her.

You were out of place here. The expensive clientele, the hushed conversations filled with power plays and deception—this was not your world. You weren't dressed in designer clothing or dripping in wealth. Instead, you looked... real. Genuine. And that was a problem.

Jae-hyun's grip tightened around his glass as he leaned back in his chair, tapping his finger absently against the table. He shouldn't have noticed you, shouldn't have let his gaze linger on the way you nervously tucked your hair behind your ear, scanning the menu as if it contained the answers to all your problems. He had seen that look before. A girl trying to act like she belonged in a place that would chew her up and spit her out.

"This is bad," he muttered under his breath. "What's bad?" came a low voice from across the table. Jae-hyun didn't look away from you as his closest associate, Jin, watched him with a knowing smirk. "You keep staring at her," Jin pointed out, sipping his drink. "That's not like you."

Jae-hyun ignored him, his mind already working through the pieces of the puzzle. Why were you here? You were seated at a table near the bar, alone, shifting uncomfortably as a man in his forties—clearly drunk and too arrogant for his own good—made his way toward you. Jae-hyun didn't need to hear the conversation to know how it would go. The man would offer to buy you a drink, maybe slide too close, and you—being too polite—would try to decline without making a scene.

He sighed. Not my problem.

He turned away, deciding it was best to let things play out. But then, he caught a glimpse of your expression—tight, hesitant, lips pressed together in a forced, uneasy smile. You weren't used to this kind of attention. And just like that, something in his chest tightened. Jae-hyun exhaled slowly, setting his whiskey glass down with a deliberate clink. Jin raised a brow. "You're not actually going to—" But Jae-hyun was already moving.

Your heart pounded as the older man leaned in closer, his breath heavy with alcohol. "Come on, sweetheart," he slurred. "Let me buy you a drink. You look lonely." You gave a polite but firm smile. "No, thank you. I'm just waiting for—" A sudden presence at your side made you freeze.

You turned your head slightly and saw him—a tall man dressed in a black suit, dark hair slightly tousled, and piercing eyes that sent a shiver down your spine. He didn't even look at you; his entire focus was on the man beside you, his expression completely void of emotion. "She's with me," he said, his voice calm but laced with something cold. The drunk man blinked, confused. "What?" Jae-hyun finally turned his gaze on you, his expression unreadable. "Let's go." Your breath caught. His eyes were deep and sharp, a dark abyss you couldn't look away from. "I—" He didn't give you time to protest. Gently, yet firmly, he placed a hand on your lower back, guiding you away. You barely registered the drunk man's stammered apologies as you let yourself be led through the bar, your mind spinning.

Outside, the rain was still falling, the cold air wrapping around you like a thin veil. You turned to face him, your voice finally finding strength. "Wait—who are you?" Jae-hyun studied you for a moment, his eyes flickering with something unreadable. Then, in a voice that was both soft and dangerously smooth, he said, "Someone you shouldn't get involved with." But somehow, you knew it was already too late.