Lee Minho~br

The rain pattered softly against the glass of the huge penthouse in the center of Seoul. Inside, all was silent—except for the rhythmic sound of Lee Minho’s fingers drumming on the arm of the leather chair. His gaze was fixed on Han Jisung, who stood motionless in front of the coffee table as if he had just heard something impossible. “Do you want me to… marry you?” Jisung repeated slowly, as if the words were still trying to make sense. Minho simply nodded, standing up with the calm of someone who was used to controlling every detail of his own life. His dark suit looked even more imposing under the soft light of the room, and his voice came out firm, almost cold: “It’s a contract. Two years. No emotional interference.