There's no mercy when I f*ck you pretty one. Dominance is what I CRAVE the most."
Synopsis :
A tragic love story of a boy who fell in love with a wrong one who tainted his mind with his own cunning lust that was carried forward by the tough male...
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The evening sky was a wash of orange and pink as Y/N sat on the edge of her bed, gazing out at the cityscape of Busan through her apartment window. She had returned to this place after years of being away, after years of the tall brunette's hold on her life. The apartment felt both familiar and foreign, a reminder of the life she had before everything had spiraled into chaos. Before the tall brunette had taken her hostage. And now, the silence was almost unbearable. It was too quiet. Too still. Even the air felt thick with unease, as if something unseen was watching her every move. Her son, now five years old, was playing in the living room with his toy cars, his small laughter a brief respite from the overwhelming tension Y/N felt deep in her bones. Every day was a battle to return to some semblance of normalcy, but the weight of the tall brunette's memory, his control, still lingered like a ghost she couldn't quite shake.
She had spent years in fear first abducted by the tall brunette, then torn between him and the life she wanted to live. There was no clear resolution to his disappearance. Namjoon had done his best to protect her, and they had both come to the grim conclusion that the tall brunette was likely dead. Taehyung, the tall brunette's best rival, remained in a coma, unresponsive after the brutal attack that left him unconscious. The hope of his recovery had faded with time. With no word from the tall brunette, it seemed like the shadow he cast over her life might finally be lifting. But something wasn't right tonight.
My instincts, honed from years of survival, screamed that something was wrong. I glanced over my son, his bright eyes focused on the toys before him. His existence was the greatest source of my joy, but also my most profound vulnerability. My baby was a link to the tall brunette that I could never sever. My little man was a living embodiment of his father and as he grew his facial features were sharp and intense like his father. His captivating doe eyes left me speechless since it held the same innocence as the baby daddy. I was so scared that he might get the boiling temper and quirkiness like his father but I'm trying hard to nurture him with good values and schooling and all other activities. I want my little man to live a normal childhood.
As she rose from the bed, stretching, she checked the street below, but saw nothing unusual. Yet the sensation of being watched wouldn't leave her. She frowned and drew the curtains closed, trying to shake off the feeling of unease. Maybe it was just paranoia, the lingering remnants of trauma. After all, she had spent years fearing someone might come for her again. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows through the apartment as Y/N went to her son, who was now dozing on the couch. She picked him up carefully and carried him to his bedroom, tucking him in gently. His tiny face, so peaceful, so innocent, made her heart ache. He was a living reminder of the tall brunette, a man she had despised and feared in equal measure.
She leaned in and placed a warm kiss on the little boy's forehead, "Good night my little man. Have a sweet sleep. I'll see you in the morning."
Just as she was about to leave his room, she froze. A soft noise, almost imperceptible, came from the front door a light click, as though someone had unlocked it. Her heart began to race. She grabbed the nearest thing to her, a small vase, and moved toward the hallway. She barely made it halfway down the hall when she saw him. A figure, tall and dressed in loose, baggy black clothes, had entered her apartment. A bucket hat and a face mask obscured his identity, and the silver jewelry glinted in the faint light. The man moved with eerie confidence, as though he belonged there, as though he had done this many times before.
