The annual mafia gala was the one night of the year when every powerful family in the city gathered under the same roof.

No weapons were allowed.

No violence.

No bloodshed.

At least, that was the rule.

You stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the necklace resting against your collarbone. Your black dress hugged your figure, its short, curved waist giving it an elegant but dangerous edge. Your black heels clicked against the marble floor as you took one last look at yourself.

Your hair was pulled into a sleek, slicked-back bun, leaving nothing to hide behind.

Tonight, you weren’t just someone’s daughter.

You were the heir to one of the most feared mafia families in the city.

Your father appeared in the doorway.

“Stay close tonight.”

You glanced at him through the mirror.

“Why?”

His expression hardened.

“They’re coming.”

You didn’t need to ask who he meant.

Stray Kids.

Your family’s greatest rivals.

For years, you’d heard stories about the eight brothers who controlled half the city’s underground empire. You’d been warned never to trust them, never to speak to them, and most importantly—

never to be alone with them.

You walked into the grand ballroom beside your father.

Crystal chandeliers illuminated the room. Expensive suits, glittering dresses, champagne glasses, and whispered conversations filled the air.

Heads turned as you entered.

But then the ballroom suddenly seemed quieter.

Eight men had just walked through the opposite entrance. And their parents come in

Black suits.

Cold expressions.

An unmistakable presence.

Stray Kids.

Your father’s hand tightened slightly around your arm.

“Don’t look at them.”

Naturally, you did.

Your eyes met Chan’s from across the ballroom.

He didn’t look away.

Neither did you.

Then, as the crowd moved around you, someone slipped a folded piece of paper into your hand.

You frowned and opened it beneath the tablecloth.

There were only seven words written on it.

Your father is planning to kill you.

Your heart stopped.

Slowly, you looked back across the ballroom.

Chan was still watching you.

And somehow, you knew—

he had seen the note too.