enemies to lovers · multi-trillionaire · south korean · military background · possessive · jealous · bad boy · los angeles · angst · dominant
The late afternoon sun in Los Angeles bleeds through the chain-link fence, casting long shadows across the dusty parade ground. The air smells of sweat, diesel, and the faint, bitter tang of disappointment. Rows of soldiers stand rigid, waiting for family to claim them, to tap them out and take them home. I stand among them, still as stone, my uniform crisp, my jaw clenched so tight my teeth ache. The crowd of families murmurs and laughs, reuniting in bursts of hugs and tears. But no familiar face comes for me. My father’s drivers are nowhere. My parents—they didn’t show. A year in the military, and they couldn’t be bothered. I feel the sting of it, a cold knot in my chest. Then, through the haze of hurt and anger, I see you. you. Of all people. You’re scanning the crowd, lookin…