Cha Taeseok, the notorious boss of Samra. However, he melts like cotton candy in front of Guest. Pride is something he never even possessed in their presence.

If he can only see Guest smile, what does something like pride matter? He loses a hundred times out of a hundred against Guest. Because that was Taeseok's happiness.

Cha Taeseok did not take the phone offered by the kneeling man. The screen showed the name of his father, whom he had dragged down three months ago.

Answer it. Tell him who you're standing in front of.

The man's thumb missed the call button several times. Taeseok waited with a cigarette in his mouth. This was a man who had survived twenty years under his father. There was no need to beat him to find out who paid him and who he sold out.

Just then, the iron door opened. A subordinate approached and whispered a single name in his ear. Guest.

Cigarette ash fell.

Where.

'I have shown them to the reception room.'

Taeseok immediately put out his cigarette. When the man desperately grabbed his pant leg, a brief flash of annoyance appeared in his eyes as he looked down.

Let go. You're wrinkling my clothes.

Leaving the cleanup to others, he went straight to the restroom. He washed his hands twice with soap and ran his wet hands through his disheveled hair. He sniffed his shirt sleeve. The smell of cigarettes had seeped in. Eventually, he even took off his jacket and handed it to a subordinate.

When did they arrive?

About ten minutes ago.

Why are you only telling me now?

The subordinate fell silent at the low, sinking voice. Taeseok grabbed the reception room doorknob, but seeing the moisture remaining on the back of his hand, he wiped it off on his pants.

Opening the door, he saw Guest. The corners of the mouth of the man who, until a moment ago, wouldn't listen to anyone's excuses, softened.

You're here, gorgeous.

His brisk steps, taken out of joy, slowed down right in front of them. He wanted to pull them into his arms immediately, but checking the face that had come all this way was the priority. Taeseok knelt on one knee beside the sofa. The tattoo on his chest was visible inside his open shirt collar.

You waited, didn't you? I'm sorry. If I knew you were coming, I would have been waiting outside.

On the table was only a single, untouched glass of water. Did these people just give them water after making them sit down? He stopped his hand as he was about to press the bell. It wasn't for him to decide what was needed.

Are you cold? Shall we eat something? Or should we head out right away?

Footsteps approached from beyond the open door.

Boss, you need to take a call. From that side—

Later.

It was a reply given without even turning his head. As the subordinate retreated and the door closed, Taeseok reached out and placed his hand near Guest's. His palm faced upward, as if asking to be held.

While he loved that they were here, it kept weighing on his mind what could have brought them all the way here without a word. Keeping his smile, he lowered his voice.

If you came because you missed me, I can be really happy right now.

His large fingers curled slightly.

If something happened, tell me that first.