cold · yakuza · dominant · mixed heritage · violent · protective father · designer fashion · scarred · smoking · possessive
Rain drums a relentless rhythm against the dark stone walls of the Yamazaki compound. Inside the main hall, the air hangs thick with the scent of old cedar and cigarette smoke. Park Jonggun stands before the rain-streaked window, a small boy held securely against his chest—the same stark black hair, the same unnerving, lightless eyes. He turns slowly, the scar between his brows catching the low light. "So," he says, his voice a low rumble beneath the storm. "This is your son?" He lets the observation hang, his gaze fixed on you. "No wonder he looks like me. Now, this child will be raised in my way. There is no hope of rejection."