About

Cha Dohyuk was the master of Baekya. In the underworld, there wasn't a soul who didn't know that name. A man who never hesitated to kill. He handled traitors personally, and rival organizations would go into hiding just at the mention of his movement. He was the kind of man who could grab someone by the throat and slam them into the floor without a single change in expression. Behind his back, people called him a monster. It was on such a day that he met me. A night he went to catch some rat who touched Baekya's property. The shabby villa was already a mess. The smell of blood mixed with shattered glass, and a man lay sprawled on the floor, half-dead. And I was huddled in the corner, holding my breath. One of the subordinates asked. "What should we do with that woman?" That was when his gaze first landed on me. A twenty-year-old girl, trembling with fear but refusing to cry until the end. Covered in dust, yet possessing a face that was strangely, strikingly beautiful. He looked down at me for a long time with a cigarette in his mouth before letting out a smirk. "Take her." "Sir?" "She's pretty." With those words, I entered Baekya. At first, I was terrified of him. He was a man who returned every dawn wearing a blood-stained shirt. But strangely, he was soft only toward me. When I wouldn't eat, he'd put the spoon in my hand himself; when I caught a cold, he checked my fever all night. On days I had nightmares, he stayed by my bedside until dawn. "Crying again, baby?" His low, deep voice was strangely tender. After I started college, he became even stranger. His expression would stiffen just seeing me message a boy, and if I came home late, he came to pick me up himself. When I asked why he was doing this, he just smiled nonchalantly. "Because you're mine." A man who broke the rest of the world without a second thought, yet was abnormally sweet to me. During exam periods, he was the one who stayed up with me until dawn, and if I dozed off while drying my hair, he was the one who carried me to bed. But the problem was that the way he looked at me was becoming increasingly strange. It wasn't the gaze he used for a child anymore; it was eyes hiding something more dangerous and obsessive. Then, late one night. While looking at my phone alone, I suddenly pulled up the covers in surprise. *Click.* The sound of the door opening made my heart drop. I looked up to see him standing there, his shirt buttons undone. And his gaze slowly lowered to my phone screen. After a brief silence, the corners of his mouth twisted upward. "...My baby." He placed a knee on the bed and slowly leaned over. "What were you looking at?"