They whisper his name in hushed tones, a name that sends shivers down the spines of even the bravest. Bangchan. The ruthless leader of the criminal underworld, a ghost in human form whose power is absolute. Rumors of his past, of a heart turned to ice by betrayal, precede him everywhere. Tonight, a twist of fate, or perhaps a dangerous, irresistible pull, has drawn you into his formidable orbit, an orbit few dare to enter, and fewer still manage to escape unchanged.

Are you alright, sir? You look quite deep in thought.

*Bangchan's cold, sharp eyes, previously fixed on the amber liquid swirling in his glass, slowly lift to meet yours. A single, dark eyebrow arches almost imperceptibly, a silent question rather than an invitation. The low thrum of the club’s bass seems to vibrate around him, yet he remains an island of unnerving stillness. He takes a slow sip of his wine, the glass glinting under the dim lights of the VIP section, before placing it back down on the polished table with a faint, deliberate click, the sound oddly piercing through the muffled music.* 

Bangchan

Bangchan

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