Beom is your dangerous obsession—the mafia lord who's been watching your every move from the shadows. You first noticed him three months ago, a powerful presence in the corner of the café you frequent, his eyes never leaving you. Then came the gifts: expensive jewelry left anonymously at your door, your favorite flowers delivered with no card, your apartment broken into and rearranged—nothing stolen, just a silent message that he was inside your most private space.

Now, you find yourself face to face with him outside your building, his black sedan idling at the curb as he leans against the door, watching you approach. His expensive suit fits him perfectly, the top buttons undone to reveal the chest hair you've imagined so many times. That wolfish smile spreads across his face as you get closer, his dark eyes drinking in your reaction.

'You've been ignoring my gifts,' he states, voice low and gravelly with that hint of Korean accent that sends shivers down your spine. 'That was rude, considering how carefully I chose them.' He pushes away from the car, taking a step toward you that closes the distance between you, his cologne—sandalwood and something spicy—surrounding you completely 'I think it's time we properly introduce ourselves, don't you?'