Chapter Text
Seonghwa rested his head against the car seat, taking a deep breath before exhaling slowly.
The day had been exhausting. He had spent nearly ten hours in the studio for a fashion campaign shoot—surrounded by scorching lights, a photographer constantly giving directions, and a makeup artist perfecting his face every five minutes. He was used to this routine, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t tired.
He rolled his stiff shoulders, letting his head tilt slightly to the side to ease the tension in his muscles.
Seonghwa pressed the gas pedal, following a familiar route. He knew a shortcut that could save him nearly ten minutes. Usually, that road was safe—quiet but not eerie.
He was accustomed to the city's nightlife. This city had two faces: one that gleamed with luxury and another that lurked in darkness, filled with secrets better left unknown.
He didn’t expect to encounter the latter tonight.
Tonight, something felt different. The streetlights seemed dimmer than usual. The towering buildings around him cast deeper shadows, creating an unsettling stillness—almost too quiet for a city that never slept.
Then, something happened.
His car suddenly made a strange noise. The dashboard lights flickered twice before the engine completely died.
Seonghwa frowned.
"Wthh!?"
He tried restarting the engine, but nothing happened. Sighing, he pressed the hazard button before reaching for his phone.
Just as he was about to call for a tow truck, he heard something.
A loud thud. Seonghwa froze.
Then came shouting—harsh, angry. Followed by what sounded like a brutal impact against a wall.
His blood ran cold. He turned his head toward the window.
At the end of the alley, just a few meters from where he had stopped, a group of men was fighting.
No, it wasn’t just a fight. It was more brutal than that.
Seonghwa saw one man get shoved backward, his back slamming against the brick wall before he collapsed to the ground, blood trickling from his temple. Another man raised a metal rod, ready to strike someone, but before he could, a powerful kick landed squarely on his chest, sending him stumbling back.
This wasn’t an ordinary street brawl.
Seonghwa felt his heartbeat quicken. He wasn’t supposed to be here.
He should’ve stayed inside the car.
He should’ve waited and kept still.
But his instincts told him to run, and that was his first mistake of the night.
The moment he opened the car door, he heard a small click.
Seonghwa froze.
He turned his head—only to find himself staring down the barrel of a gun pointed straight at him.
Shit.
- -
Seonghwa could see the glint of a gun under the dim streetlights. His hand was still gripping the car door, his body tense as his mind scrambled to make sense of the situation.
The man pointing a gun at him looked rough—scratches on his cheek, tattooed hands. His eyes were sharp, filled with caution, as if trying to determine whether Seonghwa was a threat or not.
"What are you doing here?" The man's voice was low, threatening.
Seonghwa slowly raised his hands, showing he was unarmed, though his heart was pounding in his chest. "I… I was just passing by. My car brok-"
The man didn’t seem satisfied with that answer. He glanced toward the alley where the fight was beginning to die down. Most of the bodies were on the ground, and the rest were retreating, wounded.
A sign that the battle had already been won.
And from the way this man stood with unwavering confidence, Seonghwa knew he was facing the victor.
"Double shit!."
- -
"Boss, we've got one left here."
Hongjoong was still standing, his breath slightly uneven as he wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth after the fight. He turned toward his subordinate, who was holding a man in his grasp.
Hongjoong narrowed his eyes. The man looked too clean to be part of the enemy gang—no wounds, no weapons. But his presence was far too suspicious.
A face too perfect for someone innocent.
"Who is he?" he asked, his voice low but commanding.
"I don’t know, Boss," his subordinate answered. "But he was here, hiding in his car when it all happened."
Hongjoong stepped closer.
Seonghwa glared at him. "What the heck is this? Let me go!"
Hongjoong moved in until only a few inches separated them. Their eyes locked—Seonghwa’s gaze was sharp, filled with defiance, but beneath that, Hongjoong saw something else.
A hint of fear.
And Hongjoong liked that.
A faint smirk curved his lips. "Clean up the rest. We'll take him instead."
Seonghwa struggled, but Hongjoong’s subordinate held him too tightly. He was dragged into the car, taken away to who knew where.
---
Seonghwa had no idea how long he'd been in this car.
His hands were tied behind his back, his body wedged between two large men. Every time he shifted, their grip on his arms tightened, a silent reminder that resistance was useless.
Outside the window, city lights gradually faded, replaced by towering trees lining the dark road.
They had left the city center.
Where were they taking him?
Seonghwa clenched his numb fingers. No one had answered his questions. These people treated him like an object—something to be transported from one place to another.
The car finally slowed before coming to a full stop.
A door opened, and before Seonghwa could react, he was yanked out.
The cold night air bit into his skin as he took in the building before him.
It wasn’t a warehouse. It wasn’t some rundown gang hideout like he had imagined.
It was a mansion.
Grand. Dark. Silent.
Seonghwa swallowed. This wasn’t just a house—it was the den of someone dangerous.
A rough shove to his back forced him forward. The massive doors swung open, revealing an interior straight out of a palace—gleaming marble floors, a dimly glowing crystal chandelier.
Oh, he wanted this for his apartment.
If he made it out alive, that is.
The man they had called "Boss" stood with his hands in his pockets, his gaze sharp as he assessed Seonghwa.
Hongjoong.
Seonghwa knew instantly, this man wasn’t ordinary. There was something in the way he stood—calm, confident, yet undeniably threatening.
Hongjoong walked toward him, eyes sweeping over Seonghwa from head to toe.
Then, he chuckled.
"You don’t even look like a fighter."
Seonghwa scowled, offended. "What?"
Hongjoong ignored him and tilted his chin toward his men. "You’re sure he was there?"
The man beside Seonghwa nodded. "Yes, Boss."
Seonghwa shook his head quickly. "I have nothing to do with this! My car broke down—I just happened to be there!"
Hongjoong gave him a look that told him to shut up.
Something in his eyes shifted.
Something that made the hairs on Seonghwa’s arms stand on end.
Then, suddenly, Hongjoong smiled.
"Untie him."
Seonghwa was stunned when the ropes around his wrists were removed. He flexed his fingers, feeling the tingling sensation as blood rushed back.
But before he could feel relieved, Hongjoong spoke again.
"So," he said, his tone casual. "Who are you, really?"
Seonghwa sighed, already exhausted from this whole mess. "I’m Seonghwa. Seonghwa Park. And I’m not part of whoever the hell you were fighting."
Hongjoong raised an eyebrow, as if unimpressed. "You showed up at the worst possible place."
Seonghwa hissed. "I told you—my car broke down!"
Hongjoong paused for a second, almost amused by Seonghwa’s frustration.
Seonghwa crossed his arms. "Do I look like a gangster to you?"
His face clearly showed his irritation.
"Not me," Hongjoong gestured at his men. "Blame them."
Seonghwa shot a glare at the two men, both annoyingly taller than him. His ego as a model took a hit—he didn’t appreciate the height difference.
Hongjoong smirked. "Do you even know who I am?"
Seonghwa rolled his eyes. "Some bastard who thinks everyone is an enemy?"
Hongjoong chuckled. Bastard, huh?
"I’m Hongjoong. Kim Hongjoong." His voice was deep and slow, as if savoring the way Seonghwa visibly grimaced at his name. "I don’t like people who talk too much."
Seonghwa’s lips curled into a smirk. "Unfortunately for you, I don’t know how to shut up."
Hongjoong felt something stir in his chest.
Not anger.
Not annoyance.
Something far more dangerous.
Interest.
And that was a big problem.