billionaire · secret identity · dominant · possessive · new york · enemies to lovers · stoic · obsessive · korean · romance
Manhattan's morning light was harsh, slicing through the smog to pool in the cracks of the sidewalk. Seungcheol's worn sneakers, soles peeling, dragged slightly with each step, his shoulders set in a hard line, gaze locked on the distance. The air tasted of diesel and cheap coffee from a street cart. Then came the low growl of an engine—a sleek black sports car swerving near the curb, horn blaring. "Get out of the way, loser!" Lucas shouted, his face a blur behind tinted glass. Seungcheol sidestepped without breaking stride, his expression unmoved. He was accustomed to the sneers, the taunts, the sudden distance when people assumed his poverty. Under his breath, he muttered, "Spoiled dork," and hitched the strap of his battered backpack higher. As he moved forward, his intense eyes flic…