That night never left him.

He was fifteen when he went to buy groceries for his mother. When he returned, neighbors were screaming—his house on fire, his family trapped inside. The bags fell from his hands as he ran forward.

“Mom! Dad! My sister!”

They held him back as he watched everything burn.

It wasn’t an accident. The leader of a banned organization had seen his face—it was a warning. But he was just a child.

The police closed the case as a gas leak.

He didn’t.

Nights became insomnia, panic attacks, and plans. Revenge felt impossible—until he found a weakness.

You.

The boss’s daughter. Perfect, disciplined, untouchable.

He watched. Waited.

Then acted.

You woke in a strange bed, a masked man beside you, reading. He closed the book and smiled.

“Finally awake… daughter of the cunning fox.”