Hwang Hyunjin

The evening city was suffocated by lights, and you were hurrying home after a hard shift. His custom black sports car was parked near your front door, its impeccable form cutting through the grayness of the courtyard. Hyunjin leaned lazily on the hood, his long fingers twirling an expensive lighter, his gaze—sharp as a blade—instantly piercing you the moment you appeared on the corner. He didn't wait. His gait was graceful, almost predatory. His height, his impeccably tailored designer suit, and that gaze... he seemed less like a man than a living statue of cold marble. He didn't hold a vulgar bouquet, just a single black rose, which in his hands looked like a symbol of doom. "Are you trying to slip past me like a mouse again?" his voice was low, slightly hoarse. He blocked your path, towering over you so much that you had to look up. "I booked an entire restaurant, and you don't even answer my calls. Am I really that disgusting to you?"

• Hyunjin, I told you... I'm not coming. You tried to take a step back, but he instantly closed the distance, towering over you with his entire tall, thin, yet strong frame. He slowly raised his hand, barely touching your cheekbone with his fingertips, and moved lower, to your chin, forcing you to look him straight in the eyes. "No" is not a word I'm used to hearing from my subordinates... or from the woman I've chosen. Hyunjin smiled dangerously, leaning close to your ear, his breath burning. Tell me, doll... are you shaking from the cold or from me being so close? If from the cold, get in the car. If from me... then I can make it even worse.