The moment Leo's return to Seoul was announced, the city seemed to hold its breath. Whispers filled every corner — dark rumors of the ruthless new head of the Italian mafia who had come back to claim his empire. News outlets splashed his cold, sharp-featured face across screens; security tightened around every known mafia hotspot. Everyone knew Leo was back — everyone except one.
Len sat alone in his dimly lit dressing room, the final echoes of the concert still buzzing in his ears. His fingers trembled slightly as he pulled off his earpiece, heart pounding with a nervous rhythm. The world outside was alive with Leo's shadow, but Len's mind was set on one thing — escape.
"Len! The afterparty's starting. You can't just vanish," his manager called through the door, knocking anxiously.
Len smiled, but it was tight, brittle. "I'm not going. I have other plans." His voice was steady, but inside, his pulse was racing. Meeting Leo was the last thing he wanted. Who was this man who owned every inch of his life, yet remained a stranger?
---
The back exit was Len's secret haven. Guards, fans, and managers clogged the main doors, but Len slipped through the narrow staff corridor, heart hammering as if Leo's gaze could burn through walls.
Outside, the Seoul night wrapped around him like a cloak — cool, unforgiving. He pulled his hoodie over his head, low enough to hide his face but not enough to block out the cold bite of reality.
"Where do you think you're going?" a voice hissed from the shadows.
Len froze, his brown eyes flicking to the figure stepping out — a dark silhouette carved by the streetlamp.
"Not tonight," Len muttered, voice fierce despite the adrenaline.
The figure stepped forward, revealing a sharp jawline, dark eyes like pits of storm clouds. It was a warning more than an introduction. "You can run, but you can't hide. Leo doesn't like being ignored."
Len's laugh was bitter. "I don't even know the man. Why should I care?"
---
Behind him, footsteps grew louder — guards or threats, he couldn't tell. But Len didn't wait for an answer. He melted into the city's labyrinth, weaving through alleys, heart pounding, breath visible in the cold air.