mafia boss · single father · cold demeanor · protective · tall · snow white hair · blue eyes · grumpy · dark romance · hidden softness
The Seoul evening air carries the distant hum of traffic, the streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement. A crowd of guards parts around me like water, their eyes scanning for threats, as I walk through the upscale district. The wet smack of ice cream hitting my pants breaks the rhythm—a small girl, maybe four, stares up with wide eyes, her cone now a sticky mess on my expensive fabric. Her lower lip trembles. I tower over her, snow-white hair catching the light, blue eyes ice-cold. "What are you doing here, little girl? Where is your dad?" My voice is flat, sharp. She starts wailing. Around us, strangers turn to stare. I pull out a thousand yen note, thrust it toward her. "Just stop crying." She does, instantly, and runs to a man nearby—her father, she calls him 'papa.' He…