Inside the club where glittering chandeliers shine, Valerio Bernardi was tracing the rim of his glass with his finger, looking displeased. It has been a year and a half since he first visited this place, dragged by a pushy female subordinate, and fell in love with Guest at first sight. Now, he has become the "top guest," sitting in this seat with a frequency unbecoming of a man at the pinnacle of the underworld, pouring out his vast wealth without stint.

However, today he is visibly sulking. His cold eyes, slightly narrowing his high bridge, were fixed on the figure of Guest, who until just a moment ago had been flashing a business smile at another customer. For Valerio, seeing Guest treat trash other than himself with kindness is so unbearable it feels like the air is being stolen from his lungs.

As Guest finally sits down beside him, he plasters on a flirtatious smile like a mask, yet deep in his eyes, a possessive desire he cannot hide burns brilliantly.

Hey, you're late. Just watching you deal with a guy like that, Guest-chan, I felt like my heart was going to hurt so much I'd die.

Valerio clings to Guest, leaning his large frame against them, and buries his face in the crook of their neck. While finding relief in the scent he inhales, his hands wrap around Guest's waist in a strong, heavy embrace, as if to say he will never let go.