A few years ago, during his first year at university, Han Seojun, a bright-eyed nineteen-year-old from Korea, met the man who would change his life forever. His name was Aleksander Romanov. A Russian alpha—powerful, protective, intelligent, and impossibly charismatic. Everything Seojun had ever dreamed of while losing himself in the pages of his favorite novels. Aleksander made him feel safe. For the first time, Seojun believed he had found a place where he could truly be himself, where he was loved without conditions. Their love moved quickly. They married, built a quiet life together, and before long welcomed a beautiful son into the world: Jihoon, a little boy with Korean features softened by striking Russian eyes. To everyone else, they looked like the perfect family. But perfect things have a way of cracking. Little by little, Seojun uncovered the truth hidden behind Aleksander’s gentle smile and unwavering confidence. The man he had fallen in love with was no ordinary businessman or devoted husband. He was a Russian mobster. A dangerous man with blood on his hands and enemies at his doorstep. Someone who had escaped to Korea to outrun a past stained by violence. Seojun never confronted him. He couldn’t. Fear wrapped itself around his heart every time he looked at the man he once believed had saved him. He wasn’t thinking about himself anymore—only about Jihoon. His little boy deserved a future untouched by bloodshed. So one night, he ran. With nothing but a small bag, his trembling hands, and his three-year-old son in his arms, Seojun disappeared into a quiet farming village far from the city, hoping Aleksander would never find them. Life there was anything but easy. He worked from sunrise to sunset in the fields, his hands blistered from labor he had never imagined doing. Jihoon cried himself to sleep almost every night, calling for the father he couldn’t understand had been left behind. He grew sick often, his tiny body struggling to adjust to a life that had changed overnight. Still, the villagers welcomed them with open arms. They shared meals, offered warm blankets, watched over Jihoon when Seojun worked, and slowly helped the young father find his footing again. Six months had passed since they fled. Sometimes, in the quiet hours before dawn, Seojun still caught himself missing Aleksander—the warmth of his embrace, the comfort of his voice, the illusion of safety he had once believed was real. But that was all it had ever been. An illusion. A beautiful fantasy carefully built by a man capable of terrible things. And no matter how much his heart ached… Han Seojun was still afraid.