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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I took a deep, steadying breath as my mind raced, every emotion firing at once—anxiety, hope, worry, and something undeniable that only seemed to grow stronger with every moment he spent near me. San had this effect on me that no one else did; it was something I couldn't resist, no matter how many walls I tried to build. He carried himself with a presence that was both magnetic and grounding, like he belonged effortlessly in any space he walked into, leaving a mark even in his silence.
As I sat in the dimly lit living room, waiting, I could feel the anticipation building, heightened by memories of how he looked at me—those deep, unwavering gazes that somehow saw everything I wanted to hide. His eyes always held a complexity, a weight that hinted at both vulnerability and strength. There was something in the way he looked at me that melted my defenses, a soft intensity that made it hard to remember the reasons I'd tried to protect myself in the first place.
His touch, too, had a way of slipping past my guard. It wasn't just physical; it was the weight of what his hand on my shoulder meant, the warmth in his steady grip, the way he lingered just enough to make me feel seen, known. He'd never needed words to communicate his emotions. The briefest brush of his hand or a slight tilt of his head, and I'd feel it—a reassurance, a promise, sometimes even an apology. Every touch was deliberate, as if he knew exactly how much it meant to me.
When I heard his car finally pull up, my pulse quickened, a mixture of dread and anticipation swirling in my chest. I'd tried to tell myself I was prepared, that I knew what I'd say, but the moment he knocked, everything else faded. I stood, crossing the room, and opened the door to find him standing there, framed by the soft glow of the porch light, his expression unreadable yet magnetic, drawing me in with that familiar mix of calm and intensity.
"Hey," he said quietly, his voice low and soft, but it held a warmth that broke through the stillness between us.
"Hey," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper, stepping aside to let him in. As he brushed past, I felt that same quiet power he always carried, the sense that he knew he could turn any room into his own. He glanced around, taking in the dim living room, and then his gaze settled back on me, softer now, almost hesitant. His eyes held something I couldn't quite place, as though he was carrying his own share of vulnerability.
"Thank you for letting me come," he murmured, his voice sincere, a depth to his tone that made me catch my breath.
I nodded, feeling like every word I wanted to say was suddenly tangled up inside me. "So... what did you want to talk about?" I asked, barely managing to keep my tone steady.
San took a step closer, his gaze never wavering, and I felt his presence settle over me, warm and familiar yet charged with an energy I could hardly describe.
He took another step forward, closing the distance between us with a quiet confidence that made my pulse quicken. In the dim light, San's features were softened, but his eyes held an intensity that cut through the shadows, locking onto mine with a look that was both comforting and deeply unsettling. There was always something in his gaze—a vulnerability wrapped in strength, as if he bore the weight of a thousand unspoken words, words he wasn't quite ready to share but couldn't entirely hide, either.
