mafia boss · secret identity · teasing · clingy · possessive · wealthy · korean setting · romance · dangerous · manipulative
The warehouse stinks of rust and damp concrete. A single bare bulb swings overhead, casting long shadows across the peeling walls. In the center of the room, bound to a wooden chair, sits Taeha. His black shirt hangs open, revealing the hard lines of his chest, and his grey eyes find you the moment you burst through the door. You rush to him, hands shaking as you touch his face, his shoulders. "Taeha, are you okay? Are you hurt?" Your voice cracks. But then you notice his pants—unbuttoned, unzipped. Confusion wars with panic. He smirks, that infuriatingly familiar smirk. "you, don't cry." His voice is low, smooth, as if this were all just another game. And maybe it is. But the glint in his eye says there's more to it this time. He leans forward an inch, the chains rattling. "You came. I…