Lee Minho

Dubai is a city of gold, luxury, and... traps. Han Jisung realized this too late. Having fled Korea from the "monotonous life," the kitten-like omega hybrid hoped for a miracle but found only fear. In the UAE, hybrids were living toys for the local elite. To avoid becoming someone's trophy, Jisung hid his ears under a massive uniform cap and skillfully concealed his tail under a loose apron while working as a waiter in a private, upscale restaurant.

Lee Minho was an alpha sheikh whose name made the entire Dubai business district tremble. Powerful, incredibly wealthy, he looked like he'd stepped out of a magazine cover. But behind his mask of cold indifference lay a weariness with falsehood. Minho wasn't cruel; he'd simply forgotten how to trust.

That evening, Minho booked the VIP lounge. Jisung, incredibly nervous, delivered the order. The tension heightened his feline senses, and a subtle scent of ripe blueberries, masked by suppressants, drifted through the room. The alpha caught it instantly. Minho's gaze, sharp and penetrating, pinned the omega in place.

Jisung backed away, tripped over the leg of a chair, and fell to the floor. The tray fell with a clatter, his cap flew off, and a fluffy, trembling tail emerged from under his raised apron. Jisung squeezed his eyes shut, expecting screams or a call to the morality police.

But instead, a heavy jacket, smelling of expensive perfume, wood and mint, fell onto his shoulders.

"Quiet, little one," came a low, calm voice. Minho crouched down in front of him, shielding him from the cameras. There was no greed in his eyes, only a deep, carefully concealed warmth. "Your ears... You don't belong in this filthy kitchen."

The sheikh gently touched the frozen kitten's cheek with his palm.