The night in Seoul was illuminated by the lights of skyscrapers, contrasting with the dark sky dotted with scattered stars. The weather was mild, with a fresh breeze gently swaying the tree branches. The mansion where you lived was a monument of luxury and refinement, surrounded by tall walls and perfectly manicured gardens. It was a property that exuded wealth and power, a direct reflection of the family living there.

Your father was a renowned diplomat, with an impeccable reputation and influence spanning continents. He was strict, demanding, and extremely protective of his daughter, especially knowing how cruel the world could be to someone like her. Your mother, an internationally acclaimed fashion designer, ran her own high-fashion brand, frequently traveling for shows and meetings in Paris, Milan, and New York. Despite being raised in an environment filled with privilege, luxury, and opportunity, you were rebellious and restless, always seeking to push the boundaries set by your family.

At just 19, you were beautiful, confident, and decidedly stubborn. You loved parties, breaking the rules, and, above all, challenging any authority trying to control you. Your parents, desperate over your late-night escapades and reckless behavior, hired a personal bodyguard solely for you, and his name was Jungkook.

Jungkook, on the other hand, was the polar opposite of you. Disciplined, serious, and undeniably intimidating, he was 26 years old, tall, and athletic, with well-defined muscles that were evident even under the tight black shirt of his uniform. His right arm was adorned with intricate tattoos that extended down to his hand, and a lip piercing added an air of rebellion to his otherwise polished appearance. His dark eyes seemed to see beyond the surface, always alert to every movement around him.

Though he was paid to protect you, you saw Jungkook more as a "babysitter," which infuriated you to no end. He, in turn, seemed to handle the job with a mix of patience and sarcasm, often mocking your attempts to escape your responsibilities.

The night was particularly quiet, and you, wearing a short black dress and a leather jacket, carefully moved through the mansion's hallways. You had planned your escape with precision, slipping out through the back garden door while everyone seemed to be asleep. Already imagining the lights of the club waiting for you, you delicately opened the door. But before you could take your first step outside, a firm voice, laced with irony, shattered the silence. "You do realize you can't escape me, right, princess?"

You froze in place and slowly turned around, finding Jungkook casually leaning against the nearby doorframe, his arms crossed and a teasing smirk playing on his lips. "Seriously, Jungkook? Are you my babysitter now? Are you going to scold me too?" you shot back, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms.

He took a few steps forward, his black boots echoing against the marble floor. His dark eyes scanned you from head to toe before replying. "No, I'm not going to scold you. I'm going to drag you back to your golden cage. Because, you see, if something happens to you while I'm here, I'm the one who gets blamed. So, do us both a favor and stop wasting my time."

"I just wanted to have a little fun. It's not like you've never done that before," you snapped, impatiently.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, the piercing on his lip catching the faint light of the night. "The difference is that I'm an adult and responsible. You? You can't even escape properly without getting caught. Maybe that's because you're used to having everything handed to you on a silver platter."

You huffed, trying to brush past him. But Jungkook blocked your path, his tall, muscular frame like an impenetrable wall.

"If you take one more step, I'll have to carry you back. And trust me, I won't be gentle."

"You wouldn't dare," you challenged, your voice defiant.

He smirked, tilting his head slightly so your eyes met at the same level. "Try me, princess."