Choi San, a revered and feared mafia boss, reigns over Seoul's underworld with an iron fist, his influence extending seamlessly across both legal and illegal domains. But his empire is shaken to its core when his beloved daughter, Eun-ji, is kidnapp...
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The early morning silence of the mansion was a stark contrast to the tumult of the previous days. As I descended the stairs, my thoughts lingered on Eun-ji, finally asleep after the worry and uncertainty had kept her awake most of the night. Hongjoong had been indispensable, helping to calm her with stories and gentle reassurances. San, however, had vanished into his office, no doubt overwhelmed by the stress and the sudden disappearance of his wife—my sister—once again.
Approaching San's office, I noticed the door slightly ajar. The soft light spilled into the dim hallway, casting long shadows on the floor. I paused at the entrance, observing him for a moment. He was engrossed in a myriad of papers, his expression tense, brows furrowed in deep concentration. It was a rare sight to see him in his robe, a departure from his usual formal and meticulously put-together appearance that commanded authority and respect. Tonight, he seemed more accessible, less guarded, caught in a moment of vulnerability.
Quietly, I stepped inside, moving silently across the room. San's focus on his work was so intense he hadn't noticed my presence. Standing behind him, I gently threaded my fingers through his hair, a familiar gesture meant to offer comfort and connection. He responded almost immediately, a testament to our deep bond, tilting his head back with a heavy sigh that seemed to carry the weight of his burdens.
I smiled softly, leaning down to press tender kisses along his neck. My hands moved beneath his robe, tracing the contours of his chest with a light touch, meant to soothe and reassure him. His body relaxed under my touch, the tension easing as he leaned into the comfort I offered.
"Long night?" I whispered, my breath warm against his skin.
San let out a soft chuckle, a sound tinged with exhaustion and appreciation. "You could say that," he murmured, his voice low and rough with fatigue. "I didn't hear you come in."
"I didn't want to disturb you," I replied, continuing my gentle caresses, feeling him unwind further with each touch. "Eun-ji's finally asleep, thanks to Hongjoong's storytelling skills."
San turned his chair slightly to face me, his eyes meeting mine with a mixture of gratitude and weariness. "Thank you for looking after her," he said sincerely. "I know these circumstances aren't easy for anyone."
"Anything for you, Sannie," I whispered softly, taking a small step back, prepared to give him space. But before I could pull away fully, he reached out, his hand gently but firmly gripping mine. In one fluid motion, San pulled me into his lap, his arms wrapping around me tightly, as if letting go wasn't an option.
The sudden closeness took me by surprise, but I didn't resist. Instead, I settled against him, my heart softening at the way he held me, his grip conveying how much he needed me in that moment—both emotionally and physically.
His robe fell slightly open as my body pressed against his chest, and I felt the steady beat of his heart beneath my hand. For a moment, the weight of the world fell away, and it was just us. His warmth, his strength, and the tenderness in the way he cradled me made everything outside the office feel distant and unimportant.
