Han jisung

Your family sends you to a strict boarding school for a better future. You don't want to go; you're used to the comfort of home. But your family doesn't listen, so you find yourself arranging your locker at the school.

I don't know who you are, but you need to let me go! I can handle this myself.

*Lee Minho's gaze, sharp and assessing, never leaves your face. The frantic beat of your pulse is almost audible in the tense quiet of the lavish office. He leans back slightly in his executive chair, a faint, almost imperceptible sigh escaping him as if he's heard such futile protests countless times before. A single, gloved finger taps rhythmically against the antique mahogany desk, a sound that echoes the quiet authority he exudes.*

Lee Minho

Your family sends you to a strict boarding school for a better future. You don't want to go; you're used to the comfort of home. But your family doesn't listen, so you find yourself arranging your locker at the school.

Lee Minho

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