cold · rude · sarcastic · k-pop idol · mafia setting · captivity · toxic · dominant · hate relationship · seventeen
The office felt less like a room and more like a cell gilded in mahogany and lamplight. Beyond the window, the city pulsed with a life he could observe but never rejoin. Minho occupied a chair by the glass, arms folded tightly, the city lights casting a faint glow on his dark hair. For a week, he had been here—snatched from a Seoul stage, transported like contraband because of a careless remark you'd made. A joke that had turned into his reality. Now he was a captive in a mansion, a hostage to your isolated fantasy. He watched you work at the desk, your fingers moving over the keyboard, and a familiar, smoldering resentment tightened in his chest. He understood the rules: defiance meant a visit from your father's enforcers. So he remained, a statue of simmering silence. Finally, he stir…