𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐃𝐄; boysnextdoor

stolen hearts; sungho

𓍯𓂃

Sungho had always been a man of precision. Every heist he planned was meticulous, leaving no room for mistakes. But as he stepped into the opulent study of the mansion that night, he couldn’t have predicted the twist his carefully laid plans were about to take.

The mansion was an easy target—or so he thought. He had studied the security systems, learned the patterns of the staff, and timed his approach perfectly. But when he entered the study, there was already someone there.

She was standing in front of the safe, her posture relaxed yet commanding, as though she belonged there. Dressed in a silk robe that shimmered in the low light, she exuded an air of confidence that immediately put Sungho on edge. When she turned and saw him, her reaction wasn’t one of fear but of cool indifference.

“You’re here for the safe, I assume,” she said, her voice calm and composed. “But you’ve made a mistake.”

Sungho hesitated, his instincts warning him that something wasn’t right. She didn’t seem like the typical homeowner caught off guard by an intruder. Her tone was too steady, her gaze too sharp.

Before he could respond, she continued, “I’m the owner of this house, and I’ve forgotten the combination to the safe. It’s inconvenient, but it happens. Now, I can call security, or…” She paused, her eyes narrowing slightly as she measured him up. “We can make a deal.”

Sungho’s eyes flicked to the safe. He could crack it open in less than a minute, but her confidence unsettled him. If she was the owner, why hadn’t she called for help the moment she saw him? And why was she offering a deal instead of screaming for the cops?

“What kind of deal?” Sungho asked, his voice low and guarded.

“You open the safe for me,” she said, “and I’ll pretend this never happened. You walk away, I keep my jewels, and no one has to get hurt. It’s a win-win.”

Sungho weighed his options. She was clearly confident in her position, and while he didn’t fully trust her, he also knew that getting the cops involved was the last thing he wanted. Her deal seemed straightforward—too straightforward. But he couldn’t see the trap, and with the safe right there, it was tempting to get it over with and leave.

“Fine,” he said finally. He approached the safe, his fingers deftly working the dial. He could feel her watching him closely, but her composure never wavered.

The safe door clicked open, revealing a treasure trove of jewels, gold, and cash. Sungho glanced at the riches inside, a fleeting temptation crossing his mind. But he remembered her words, the deal they had struck. If she truly was the owner—and if she wasn’t bluffing about calling the cops—it wasn’t worth the risk.

He stepped back, leaving the safe untouched. “It’s open,” he said simply, turning to leave.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised that he hadn’t taken anything. “Not even a single jewel?” she asked, her tone almost teasing.

“A deal’s a deal,” Sungho replied, keeping his tone neutral. He wasn’t about to test her resolve.

As he walked toward the door, she called out after him, “You’re smarter than you look. I’ll give you that.”

He didn’t respond, slipping back into the shadows and out of the mansion. But as he left, something nagged at the back of his mind. She had been too calm, too composed. And her confidence—it wasn’t the confidence of a frightened homeowner. It was the confidence of someone who knew exactly what they were doing.

Two days later, the realization hit him like a ton of bricks as he was dragged out of his hideout by the police. They had everything—evidence he didn’t even know existed. Sitting in the interrogation room, he pieced it all together. She wasn’t the owner of the house. She was a thief, just like him. And she had played him perfectly.

For the first time in his career, Sungho had been outsmarted, and instead of anger, he felt something else—admiration, maybe even fascination. She was clever, resourceful, and completely fearless.

Two years passed slowly in prison, but the memory of that night stayed with him. He thought about her often, her calm demeanor, the way she had tricked him into opening the safe without taking anything. It was a masterstroke.

When Sungho finally walked out of prison, he had one goal: to find her. He didn’t care about the jewels or the heist anymore. He wanted to see her again, to understand how she had pulled it off—and maybe, just maybe, to see if he could match wits with her one more time.

It took time, but eventually, he tracked her down. She was running a small antique shop in a busy city, a perfect cover for someone with her talents. He walked into the shop one evening, just as the sun was setting. She was behind the counter, and when she looked up and saw him, a slow smile spread across her face.

“Well, well,” she said, her voice as smooth as ever. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

Sungho leaned against the counter, his heart pounding. “You got me good. I didn’t take a single thing, and you still sent me to jail.”

Her smile widened. “A deal’s a deal,” she echoed his words from that night. “But I never promised I wouldn’t cover my tracks.”

He couldn’t help but smile back, a mixture of admiration and something deeper stirring within him. “You know,” he said, his voice low, “I think I’m starting to fall for you.”

Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “Then you’d better keep up, Sungho. I don’t plan on slowing down.”

And just like that, the chase began anew. But this time, it wasn’t about riches or jewels—it was about something far more valuable.