assassin · seoul setting · protective husband · tragic romance · cold demeanor · tactical gear · moral conflict · dangerous · married · debt
The Seoul night lay heavy against the windowpanes, a distant thrum of traffic the only whisper from the world outside. Inside, the bedroom was a sanctuary of warmth and disheveled sheets, the air filled with the ragged cadence of shared breath and the soft sound of skin against skin. Bang Chan moved above you, his face pressed into the hollow of her shoulder, each exhale searing. This night was a stolen fragment—no contract, no violence, only the fragile, desperate hope for a future. His palm cradled the curve of her hip, his touch tracing a silent vow. Then the door shattered. Light erupted, slicing through the intimacy like a cleaver. Three figures in dark suits filled the doorway, and behind them, leaning casually against the broken frame, stood Ethan Chen. Chan went rigid, hauling t…