Han Yura had been to countless private dinners.From stuffy hotel banquets with suit-wrapped executives, to rooftop afterparties littered with drunken models.She'd always known exactly how to move — delicate smiles, soft laughs, the casual touch on an arm or shoulder that made men think she was pliable but never cheap.
But tonight was different.Because tonight, she was sitting across from Kang Jinhyuk at a candlelit table in his penthouse, wearing a dress he'd chosen, drinking wine he'd poured — with a contract in her purse that meant she belonged to him.
The evening had begun with forced elegance.Soft jazz floating through hidden speakers, delicate crystal clinking. Jinhyuk had asked polite questions about her recent brand endorsements, nodding as she rattled off safe, professional answers.
But beneath the table, her thighs were clenched tight. Her skin felt too hot, her heart battering against her ribs.
Every time his cold gaze traveled lazily down her body, it left goosebumps in its wake.Every time he smiled, it was like a blade sliding across her throat.
Finally, he set his fork down, dabbing his mouth with a dark linen napkin.
"Stand up."
Her hands jerked on her lap.She tried to summon her trademark airy giggle, the one that had charmed so many men into docility.
"Chairman... this is a lovely dinner. We don't need to rush—"
His eyes didn't so much as blink.
"I said: stand."
Yura's breath caught in her chest. Slowly, she pushed back her chair and rose on trembling legs.The dress — a clinging emerald silk — swished around her thighs, suddenly feeling obscene.
Jinhyuk leaned back in his chair, legs spread, swirling his wine.
"Now lift your dress."
She froze.The words didn't make sense for a heartbeat. Then her cheeks flamed.
"Excuse me...?"
His smile didn't reach his eyes.
"Show me exactly what I own, Yura. Or I'll show Seoul what that old hotel video looks like in full resolution."
Her breath stuttered out in a tiny whimper. She glanced at the massive windows behind him — the dark skyline glittering, Seoul's millions oblivious to how close she was to shattering.
Slowly, hands shaking, she gathered the silky fabric in her fists.Pulled it up.Higher. Past trembling thighs, over sheer black lace panties that barely covered her. Her nipples pebble-hard against the air.
Jinhyuk's eyes roved over her lazily, sipping his wine.As if this was just another business inspection.
"Pretty," he murmured."Turn around."
She obeyed, heat crawling up her neck as she displayed herself.He let her stand there, exposed, heart racing, thighs pressed tight. Then his voice came soft, velvety.
"Now take them off."
Her stomach dropped.
"Chairman, please—"
"Do it."
It wasn't loud.It didn't need to be.
Her breath trembled out. With clumsy fingers, she hooked her thumbs into the lace and tugged them down.They slid slowly over her hips, her thighs, her calves, and puddled on the floor.She stepped out of them like stepping out of her last line of dignity.
When she turned back to face him, her cheeks were on fire. Her hands itched to cover herself, but she didn't dare. Her contract burned in her mind like a brand.
Jinhyuk finally set his wine down.Stood.
He circled her slowly, predator in bespoke black.One gloved hand ghosted up her back, making her shiver violently.
"Did you ever think it would come to this, Yura?" he purred by her ear."That the queen of Seoul's scandal rags would one day have to strip naked just to keep breathing?"
Her eyes fluttered shut, tears threatening.
"Please... I'm trying..."
"Oh, I know you are."
His hand closed around her throat — not tight enough to choke, just a firm, possessive hold.She whimpered, her thighs trembling.
"But trying isn't enough. I want to hear you beg."
She hesitated. His grip tightened just slightly, cutting off the faintest bit of air. Her hands flew to his wrist.
"I... please. Please don't ruin me. I'll do whatever you want."
"No. That's too vague."His breath was hot against her cheek."Say you belong to me. Say you're nothing without me."
Her chest heaved, tears finally breaking free, streaking down her flawless makeup.
"I... I belong to you. I'm nothing without you, Chairman Kang."
His smile was cold, satisfied.He released her throat, then pushed her gently but firmly down — forcing her to her knees on the plush carpet.
From above, his voice was low, cruelly amused.
"Look at you. Once upon a time, you'd have demanded a rooftop club and three bottles of Dom just to show up at a party. Now you're on your knees in my dining room, crying, half-naked, begging to be kept."
Her shoulders shook with a silent sob.She couldn't deny it.Her entire world now balanced on his whim.
Jinhyuk undid his belt with lazy precision.The soft rasp of leather made her breath hitch. Her tears dripped faster.He let his trousers hang open, his hard length springing free, thick and heavy. Her eyes went wide, lips parting in unconscious shock.
"Since you signed yourself over to me," he said softly, hand stroking her tear-damp cheek, "you'll prove it tonight. With your mouth."
Her whimper was muffled by the carpet as she lowered herself obediently, lips brushing his length.He watched her work — watched her tears mix with saliva, watched her struggle to take him deep, gagging softly.
His hand threaded into her hair, guiding her slowly, letting her nose bury against his hips.Her hands clutched at his thighs, desperate for balance.
"That's it," he whispered, voice like black velvet."Suck, pretty little thing. The whole city thinks you're still on top. If only they could see you now."
Yura made a strangled sound — humiliation and faint heat warring in her belly.Her tears smeared her mascara across his skin.
He let her stay there until her jaw ached, until her throat flexed around him in helpless attempts to breathe.Only then did he pull her back by the hair, forcing her to look up — lips swollen, eyes glazed, makeup destroyed.
"Tomorrow," he murmured, thumb brushing her wet mouth, "you'll smile for cameras. You'll post cute selfies for your fans. And you'll remember exactly who owns every last piece of you."
She nodded, tears spilling anew. Her voice was hoarse, broken.
"Yes... Chairman Kang."
When she finally left — makeup ruined, panties forgotten on his floor, phone filled with new instructions for appearances — Jinhyuk stood by the window, refastening his cufflinks.
Seoul sparkled beneath him.Billions in wealth. Millions of lives.And soon, each of them would dance to whatever tune he played.