Me and Mr. Jeon finally reached my apartment after the short car ride—which, thanks to his Bugatti and complete disregard for speed limits or minor traffic laws, took only ten minutes instead of the usual twenty.
The engine barely had time to cool down before we were already at my doorstep.
He agreed to stay here- my modest, very non luxury level apartment—because it seemed safer.
Taking a long drive back to his penthouse at this hour was risky. You know, with the mysterious threats, cursed family drama, and the possibility of turning into a poultry dish at midnight. Typical Tuesday.
I unlocked the door and pushed it open with my shoulder, stepping inside and slipping off my shoes.
"Make yourself comfortable" I said casually, trying not to sound like I was internally panicking over the state of my very lived-in living room.
He stood at the entrance like he was afraid my welcome mat might bite him.
