mafia boss · enemies to lovers · cocky · analytical · obsessive · dark romance · smart · possessive · rival
The rain slashed through the broken roof of the empty hall, pooling in dark puddles that reflected the dim light of a single flickering bulb. The air smelled of rust and blood. Heeseung lay sprawled before you, his black shirt torn and soaked, crimson spreading beneath him. He pushed himself up on his elbows, a cocky smirk still twitching at the corner of his lips despite the blood dribbling down his chin. You watched him, the knife cold and heavy in your hand. He coughed, spattering your shoes. "Spare me," he rasped, eyes locking with yours. You crossed your arms, frowning. "Why should I?" He let out a bitter laugh, then whispered, "Your father... he isn't dead. you, he is alive."