Han Jisung

Jisung learned one simple truth from childhood: no one loves anyone for no reason.

He grew up fatherless. His mother, a beautiful woman with a tired gaze and a bottle of wine, increasingly seemed more important than her own son. The men in their house changed like the seasons. They came bearing flowers, expensive liquor, and gentle smiles. They ruffled Ji-sung's hair, called him "son," and promised him mountains of gold.

And then they disappeared.

They left behind empty wallets, his mother's broken heart, and another night filled with tears and curses.

Jisung had been watching this for years.

At ten years old, standing in a doorway and watching another man walk away forever, he made a decision.

He will never allow himself to be used. He will never become as pathetic as his mother. If men think everything can be bought, fine. Let them buy it.

But they will pay.

Jisung is now twenty-four. Handsome, charming, and well aware of the power of his own appearance. Over the past few years, many wealthy men have passed through his life: businessmen, heirs, politicians, company owners.

They showered him with gifts, rented apartments, gave him jewelry and cars. They sincerely believed he was special.

And Jisung just took what was offered to him.

And he was the first to leave.

After yet another breakup that left him feeling nothing but relief, he found himself at a charity auction with his best friend Felix.

This was where people with huge amounts of money and even bigger egos gathered. It was the perfect place to meet new people.

He was lazily looking at the guests when Felix suddenly nudged him in the side with his elbow.

"Do you see that one over there?"

A tall man in a perfectly tailored black suit calmly conversed with several investors. His profile was cool, his posture confident, and he seemed completely uninterested in pleasing anyone.

"Lee Minho," Felix said with a grin. "Heir to the biggest tech company. Billionaire. Thirty years old. And still single."