—Like a moth to the flame, they danced closer to their lure, unaware that each step was a thread tightening around their fate—
***

It had been one long month since Jackson gave the rare order to hold off on Baekhyun. He wasn't the type to show restraint, but there he was, granting Chanyeol the time to mourn the death of his former underboss, Minseok. A gesture that surprised even Jackson himself. He couldn't quite explain why he had mentioned such. Maybe it was a calculated move, or maybe it was a moment of misplaced patience. But now, as time passed, the decision was beginning to eat away at him.

Letting Chanyeol mourn had backfired spectacularly. Instead of weakening him, it had made Chanyeol stronger. The man had grown richer, more influential, and even more grounded in his position. Every week brought new reports of Chanyeol's expanding empire, his growing ties with the Giordano Mafia family, and his seemingly endless success. It was as if every moment of silence Jackson allowed had only fed Chanyeol's power.

What grated on Jackson the most, though, was the recent sit-down in Japan. The gathering had brought together powerful Dons from across the globe, and it was supposed to be neutral ground. Jackson had walked into the meeting fully expecting the usual pleasantries, but what he hadn't expected was the Godfather himself showering Don Chanyeol with praise in front of everyone. The memory still burned fresh in Jackson's mind.

The Godfather had sat at the head of the table, his presence commanding, his words carrying weight like none other in their world. And there, in front of every Don and their consigliere, the old man had turned to Chanyeol, his wrinkled face breaking into a rare smile as he commended him.

"You've achieved what many cannot, especially at your age," the Godfather had said, his voice rich with approval. "Your rise has been nothing short of remarkable. You have my support, Don. Park Chanyeol."

Those words. Those damn words had been like gasoline on the fire burning inside Jackson.

Support.

The Godfather's support meant everything in their world, especially with the looming ascension to the position of Godfather. It was a public endorsement that sent shockwaves through the Mafia families, solidifying Chanyeol as a top contender. While others in the room had nodded in agreement, murmuring their admiration for Chanyeol's success, Jackson had sat there, his hands gripping the edge of the table, his teeth clenched so tightly he thought his jaw might break.

On the flight back to China, his blood had been boiling. The praise Chanyeol received wasn't just a simple compliment, it was a direct blow to everything Jackson had been working toward. Watching these Mafia leaders fawn over Chanyeol as if he were some innocent, untouchable saint infuriated him. He knew better.

Park Chanyeol wasn't innocent. He wasn't some golden boy who had risen to the top without getting his hands dirty. Jackson knew the truth. He had seen the viciousness in Chanyeol's eyes, the same ambition that had driven him out of China for Sicily all those years ago. Chanyeol was just as notorious as the rest of them, if not more. The only difference was that Chanyeol had played the game better.

But Jackson wasn't about to sit back and let Chanyeol's success continue unchecked. Not after that sit-down. Not after being humiliated by the Godfather's praise for someone he despised. Jackson's fingers twitched as he recalled the image of Chanyeol seated there, calm and composed, soaking up the admiration like a sponge.

The moment Jackson's plane touched down in China, he knew he couldn't wait any longer. The time for patience had passed. The gloves were off. He needed to strike, and he needed to strike hard.

As he descended the steps of the private jet, his mind was already working on his next move. Lucas was waiting for him on the tarmac, dressed in a sharp suit, sunglasses shielding his eyes from the glaring sun.

"Welcome back, boss," Lucas had said as he approached with a bow, his voice steady, professional as ever.

Jackson gave a nod, but his expression remained dark. His hand instinctively reached for the pack of cigars in his jacket pocket, pulling one out as he walked. The capos standing nearby straightened as he passed, bowing respectfully, but Jackson barely acknowledged them. His mind was elsewhere; focused entirely on how to dismantle Chanyeol's empire, piece by piece.

As the cigar sparked to life between his fingers, Jackson blew out a thick cloud of smoke, the bitter taste grounding him in his anger. Lucas followed closely behind him, waiting for orders, while Zhao Ren stayed by his side, always silent, always calculating.

Jackson smirked, puffing on the cigar as they reached the car. He tossed the half-smoked cigar to the ground, grinding it beneath his heel as he climbed into the backseat.

"It's time to strike," Jackson said, his voice low, dangerous. "We'll hit him where it hurts. Hard and fast," he muttered more like to himself.

As the convoy roared to life, kicking up dust behind them, Jackson's mind was already planning his next move. He was done playing nice. He would prove to the entire Mafia world that Park Chanyeol wasn't untouchable. Not by a long shot.
----

The evening air was warm, the scent of chlorine from the nearby pool mixing with the faint aroma of cigars and expensive liquor. Jackson reclined in one of the poolside lounge chairs, a smoldering cigar pinched between his thick fingers, its ember flickering with every deep puff he took. A glass of bourbon sat on a small table next to him, half-empty and glistening in the fading light.

Around him, the evening was alive with indulgence. Two of the women Jackson had summoned for his evening pleasure swam in the shimmering blue pool, their laughter echoing softly in the background as they splashed in the water. Another, a striking brunette, was beside him, her delicate hands working expertly on his shoulders, kneading away the tension that seemed to permanently reside there. Jackson's heavy-lidded eyes were focused on the horizon, but his mind was far from relaxed.

Zhao Ren, his ever vigilant consigliere, sat nearby, equally at ease in the decadence of the moment. His cigar was held loosely between his fingers as he took long drags, the smoke curling lazily into the air. A bottle of fine whiskey rested beside him, and now and then, Zhao Ren would take a measured sip, his eyes never fully leaving Jackson.

"Enjoying yourself?" Zhao Ren asked, his tone carrying a hint of dry humor.

Jackson chuckled darkly, the cigar bouncing lightly between his lips. "If only it were that simple, Ren. I've got too much on my mind for that."

He exhaled a thick cloud of smoke, his thoughts already drifting toward the reason he had called for this meeting. At that moment, Underboss Lucas approached from the mansion, a tablet tucked under his arm and a folder filled with papers in hand. His steps were quiet, and respectful, as he navigated through the display of opulence—the pool, the women, the drinks, all of it a testament to Jackson's success, yet none of it satisfied him.

Jackson glanced over his shoulder as Lucas approached. "Ah, there you are," he said, flicking the ash from his cigar into a nearby tray.

Lucas bowed slightly before taking a seat on the edge of a lounge chair opposite his boss, setting the tablet and the files down on the table between them. "Everything's here," Lucas said, his voice steady and professional, despite the casual, almost hedonistic atmosphere surrounding them.

Jackson straightened up slightly, waving the woman at his shoulder away for the moment. She pouted but obliged, slipping back toward the pool where her companions continued to swim.

"Good," Jackson muttered, reaching for the tablet as Lucas activated the screen, pulling up all the intel they had gathered on Baekhyun. "Show me."

Lucas began to explain as Jackson scrolled through the images and documents on the screen. Every move Li Wei made over Baekhyun was there in excruciating detail. Where he ate, who he spoke to, the routes he took home from school—it was all meticulously tracked.

"Baekhyun's routine is as predictable as ever," Lucas said. "He spends most of his time with friends, studying, or visiting cafes near his university. We have eyes on him almost twenty-four hours a day. But he's never alone for long, he's fully guarded by Chanyeol's armed soldiers."

As Lucas laid out the details of his findings, Jackson's brow furrowed slightly, his usual expression of cold indifference replaced with a flicker of intrigue. Among the reports of Baekhyun's daily routine, Lucas mentioned something unexpected—Baekhyun was currently pursuing a degree in Epistemology within the philosophy department at Sogang University in Seoul, South Korea.

Jackson took a long, thoughtful drag from his cigar, letting the smoke curl lazily from his lips before blowing it out into the evening air. He scrolled through the information on the tablet once more, his eyes narrowing as he read about Baekhyun's academic pursuits. "Epistemology, huh?" Jackson muttered, glancing up at Lucas and then Zhao Ren, who sat calmly beside him, sipping his whiskey.

Lucas nodded, tapping a few lines on the tablet. "Yes, boss. He's deeply involved in his studies. Philosophy, particularly how we acquire knowledge. Sogang University is where he spends most of his time when he's not with the Don."

Jackson chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Philosophy? What the hell does a kid like that need with philosophy?" His voice was filled with a mixture of amusement and mild confusion, but then Lucas added something else.

"And, boss, he also has a side interest in art. He's been attending various art exhibits and galleries whenever he has free time."

Jackson's cigar paused halfway to his mouth, his thick eyebrows rising slightly. "Art?" He looked genuinely baffled for a moment, turning to Zhao Ren, who offered no reaction except a subtle raise of his brow.

"Now that's something," Jackson said, almost to himself. "A philosopher with a passion for art. What a combination. What's he trying to prove?" He took another puff of his cigar and exhaled slowly, his mind already working. "Philosophy I could understand, but art? Why would a kid with that kind of mind waste time on paintings?"

Zhao Ren gave a short, amused snort, taking a sip of his whiskey. "Maybe he's more complicated than he looks," Zhao Ren commented dryly.

Jackson hummed, thinking over the information. Baekhyun, with his academic pursuits and soft hobbies, was nothing like the dangerous enemies Jackson was used to crushing. But that's what made him interesting—perhaps even dangerous in his way. "Incredible," Jackson muttered. "But that just means we need to approach this differently."

He turned his attention back to Lucas, tapping the tablet with his finger. "This art thing... it's a good angle. A way to get close to him. But we need someone on the inside. Someone he wouldn't suspect."

Lucas nodded, waiting for the order.

"Get me an artist. A good one," Jackson instructed, leaning back in his chair and taking another puff from his cigar. "Someone who can get close to him, earn his trust. He likes art, right? Fine. We'll give him art. Let's see if we can find a way to use this to our advantage."

Lucas immediately bowed, acknowledging the order. "Understood, boss. I'll find someone suitable for the job."

He reached for his glass of bourbon and took a long drink, feeling the warmth spread through his chest. Then, turning his gaze to Lucas, he asked, "How soon can we move?"

Lucas straightened up, his expression serious. "We can be ready within the week. Our men are already in place. All we need is your order."

Jackson shook his head in disapproval, setting the glass down with a soft clink. "No... We'll use a woman this time," Jackson decided, his voice smooth and deliberate. "Someone else who won't be noticed, someone who can blend in and follow him closely. She needs to be subtle, charming, and capable of getting into places where Li Wei couldn't."

Lucas nodded, already taking mental notes. "And what about Chanyeol? Won't he be watching closely now that Baekhyun's been spooked?"

Jackson smiled, a cold, calculating grin that never reached his eyes. "That's exactly why we need someone new—someone who won't stand out. Baekhyun will drop his guard eventually, and when he does, she'll be there. We're going to use this to our advantage."

Suddenly, Jackson stood up and paced around the pool area, his thoughts quick and methodical. The plan was evolving in his mind, sharpening with each step. He would choose someone skilled, a woman who knew how to blend into Baekhyun's world, who could follow him from the university to his favorite coffee shops, maybe even strike up casual conversations. The goal was to get close—close enough to capture the vulnerability between Baekhyun and Chanyeol, to dig deeper into their relationship. The closer this woman got to Baekhyun, the closer Jackson got to his ultimate prize.

"And make sure she's good at her job," Jackson added, stopping to look directly at Lucas. "This isn't just about surveillance. I want her to find something intimate—something Chanyeol wouldn't want the world to see. We need evidence that ties him to Baekhyun in a way he can't deny. The kind of evidence that will make the Mafia syndicates reconsider letting him anywhere near the title of Godfather."

Jackson smiled to himself, his mind already moving toward the next step. He glanced at Zhao Ren, who had remained silent and smirked. "Art. Who would have thought?"

Zhao Ren raised his glass in a silent toast. "He's not your typical mark, that's for sure. But the more unusual they are, the more opportunities there are to exploit."

Jackson nodded, taking a final drag from his cigar before stubbing it out in the ashtray beside him. "Exactly. Get the right artist, and this will play out beautifully."

As Lucas gathered his files and tablet, bowing once again before heading back into the mansion to carry out his orders, Jackson reclined in his chair, feeling the evening air cool around him. The women in the pool continued to splash and laugh, unaware of the dangerous game being set into motion.

Baekhyun had been spared for long, but now, with this new plan, the kid wouldn't even see it coming. Jackson grinned to himself, relishing the thought. Soon, very soon, Chanyeol would feel the pressure.

~
~
~

The soft glow of the fireplace flickered across the living room, casting a warm, golden light on the two of them as they sat side by side on the couch. Chanyeol's mansion, usually filled with an air of formality and command, felt unusually cozy tonight. The low crackling of the fire was the only sound, wrapping the room in a quiet intimacy.

Chanyeol leaned back, his arm draped lazily over the back of the couch, watching Baekhyun with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. His eyes followed the way Baekhyun's fingers traced patterns on the couch, almost as if he were painting invisible lines. It was a quiet moment between them, but Baekhyun had just dropped something Chanyeol hadn't seen coming.

"I never imagined you'd fall for something like art," Chanyeol said, his deep voice rumbling softly in the quiet room. His expression was thoughtful, tinged with amusement.

Baekhyun tucked up close to Chanyeol, smiled softly as he gazed into the fire. The flickering light danced across his face, making his features seem almost ethereal. "I didn't either, honestly," he replied, his voice carrying a lightness that matched the moment. He turned his head slightly to look at Chanyeol, his lips curling into a playful grin. "But art... I think it found me."

Chanyeol tilted his head, his gaze softening. "Found you?"

Baekhyun chuckled, the sound gentle and warm, like the fire that crackled in front of them. "Yeah, it's weird, right? I mean, I've always been the academic type. But then one day, I walked into this gallery with a friend, and I don't know... something just clicked." He paused, his eyes growing distant for a moment as if recalling the moment that changed everything. "I saw this painting, and it wasn't just about how it looked. It was about how it made me feel—like there was something beyond words that I needed to understand."

Chanyeol raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You? Feeling something beyond words?" he teased softly.

Baekhyun nudged him playfully with his shoulder. "Hey, don't make fun. Art is... it's different. It's like philosophy, but instead of analyzing everything, you just... feel it. You connect to it in a way that doesn't need an explanation. I guess it gives me balance."

Chanyeol's heart softened as he listened. He never expected to see Baekhyun light up like this about anything other than his studies. This was different—a side of Baekhyun he hadn't known existed, and yet it felt so natural. The way Baekhyun spoke about art, the passion in his voice, the excitement in his eyes—it made Chanyeol's chest swell with a strange, warm pride.

"I never thought I'd hear you talk about something like this," Chanyeol said softly, his voice carrying a hint of admiration. "But... I get it now. It suits you."

Baekhyun blushed at the compliment, his cheeks glowing just as brightly as the flames in front of them. He shifted slightly, tucking his legs beneath him and resting his head against Chanyeol's shoulder. "Thanks," he murmured. "I was worried you'd think it was silly."

Chanyeol chuckled, wrapping his arm around Baekhyun and pulling him closer. "It's not silly at all. You have this way of surprising me, you know? I thought I knew everything about you."

Baekhyun laughed softly, his breath warm against Chanyeol's neck. "There's still a lot to learn."

The room fell into a comfortable silence, the crackling fire filling the space with warmth. Chanyeol's fingers absentmindedly brushed through Baekhyun's hair, the gesture soothing and affectionate. He couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment in this moment—just the two of them, away from the chaos of the world outside.

Baekhyun looked up at Chanyeol, his eyes soft and full of affection. "I'm not saying I'll become some famous artist or anything," he said with a small smile. "But it's something I want to explore... something that makes me happy."

Chanyeol's heart melted at Baekhyun's words. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Baekhyun's forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment. "Then I'm all for it," he whispered against his skin.

Baekhyun smiled, his eyes fluttering closed as he snuggled deeper into Chanyeol's embrace. "You're okay with it?"

Chanyeol nodded, his voice low and full of warmth. "Of course. If it makes you happy, it makes me happy. Just... don't start painting the walls in here without asking first."

Baekhyun laughed, the sound light and joyful. "No promises."

Chanyeol smiled down at him, his heart full as he gazed at the boy in his arms. The boy he loves so much. He hadn't expected this turn, but somehow, it made perfect sense. Baekhyun, with all his complexities and passions, had found something new to love, and Chanyeol couldn't help but feel proud.

As the evening wore on and the fire burned low, Chanyeol held Baekhyun close, feeling more at peace than he had in a long time. The world outside could wait. For now, it was just them, the warmth of the fire, and the soft beat of their hearts in sync.
----

A week later

The evening air carried a faint chill as Baekhyun and his friend, Mark, stepped out of the art gallery, their conversation still buzzing with excitement over the pieces they had just seen. Baekhyun's phone was filled with photos of the artworks that had caught his eye—vibrant canvases, intricate sculptures, and abstract designs that sparked something new inside him. He had never imagined himself falling in love with art, but here he was, talking animatedly about colors, forms, and how each piece seemed to tell its own story.

Baekhyun's sleek black Jeep was already waiting by the curb, flanked by two mafia soldiers. The one closest to the door, Kang Ji-hoon, stood straight and silent, his face impassive as he opened the door for Baekhyun with military precision. The other soldiers hovered nearby, their eyes constantly scanning the surroundings for any potential threat. Mark, a little taken aback by the silent, protective force around Baekhyun, gave a small, awkward wave.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye for now," Baekhyun smiled at Mark, casually climbing into the back seat of the Jeep. "I'll see you in class tomorrow?"

Mark nodded, still a bit in awe of the security detail. "Yeah, see you then. Take care, man."

As the Jeep pulled away, Baekhyun glanced at the soldiers in the car with him, comfortable in the knowledge that they were there for his safety. Kang Jihoon, one of the new soldiers, sat in the front seat. Baekhyun knew of him—the one who killed Moon Dae-Jung to survive, and infamous for his role in eliminating threats to the family. Kang Jihoon, like most of the men surrounding Baekhyun, had chosen the mafia life out of necessity. A family to protect, a life to secure. He was making money but at a cost. Baekhyun thought of that sometimes—how the people protecting him were also bound to a world of danger, just as he was. Anything could happen.

The convoy moved swiftly, with another car trailing behind them. Inside the second car were three more soldiers, vigilant and ready. This was the life Baekhyun had become accustomed to since Chanyeol had taken him under his wing—constant protection, a life shielded from the outside world. It was still surreal to him at times, how much his life had changed.

When they pulled into the driveway of the mansion, Baekhyun's heart skipped a beat when he saw Chanyeol's car parked in its usual spot. He quickly hopped out, eager to see him after a long day. As he made his way inside, Baekhyun stepped into the kitchen, the warm, savory scent of food greeting him as he saw Jongin and Kyungsoo seated at the kitchen counter. It was the first time he'd seen the two of them talking since Jongin had returned to the Mafia family. There was something in the air—Baekhyun noticed the faint blush on Kyungsoo's cheeks as he spoke with Jongin, a sight that immediately piqued Baekhyun's interest.

Clearing his throat to announce his presence, Baekhyun smiled as Jongin turned toward him, his face lighting up. "Baekhyun! It's good to see you," Jongin greeted warmly, clearly happy to see his old flatmate.

"Capo Jongin," Baekhyun replied with a grin, his tone playful as he leaned against the counter. "How are you today?"

They exchanged casual conversation, with Jongin asking how school was going. Baekhyun, in turn, inquired about how Jongin was adjusting to being back in the family.

"I'm doing better," Jongin admitted, his voice a little softer. "It's... been a process, but I'm getting there."

"And how's Kyoong?" Baekhyun asked, referring to Jongin's adopted son, curious about the boy's wellbeing.

Jongin's expression shifted to something more tender. "I sent him to stay with my parents. He's too young for this world... too young to be anywhere near it. My family's looking after him, and I take care of everything he needs. Financially, he's set."

Baekhyun nodded approvingly. "That's a good call. He's lucky to have you."

With a smile, Baekhyun then turned to Kyungsoo, his gaze softening. "What about you, Golden Chef? What's up?"

Kyungsoo, who had been quietly listening to their conversation, smiled shyly. "I'm doing well. Just trying to put something together for dinner. Is there anything specific you'd like?"

Baekhyun shook his head. "As long as there's no garlic or cucumber, I'm good." He shot Kyungsoo a knowing look, their silent exchange revealing a shared understanding, especially with the whole situation involving Jongin. Kyungsoo blushed under Baekhyun's gaze, quickly looking away, but the small smile on his face didn't go unnoticed.

Baekhyun smirked to himself, deciding to leave the two of them alone. "I'll leave you two to it," he said, excusing himself and heading upstairs. As he ascended the stairs, he couldn't help but chuckle softly to himself, wondering what was brewing between Kyungsoo and Jongin.

After a quick shower and a change into something comfortable, he applied the cologne Chanyeol had bought for him—a scent that was both expensive and comforting. It reminded him of Chanyeol, and he smiled as he thought about seeing him.

Baekhyun made his way downstairs again, looking for Chanyeol. He checked the bedroom first, but it was empty. His next stop was the study. As he approached, he heard the faint sound of a money counting machine, the rhythmic clinking of bills being sorted and stacked. He knocked lightly on the door and heard Chanyeol's deep voice call out, "Come in."

When Baekhyun stepped inside, his eyes widened in surprise. The room was filled with money—Both local and foreign currencies stacked in neat bundles. Sehun, Hawk, and Hector were all busy counting and organizing the cash, their faces focused as they worked. In the middle of it all, Chanyeol sat behind his desk, a glass of whiskey in hand, watching the process with a calm, detached expression.

The moment Chanyeol saw Baekhyun, his face lit up with a smile. "Oh, baby, you're back. Come here."

Baekhyun's heart warmed at the sight of him, and without hesitation, he crossed the room to sit on Chanyeol's lap. Chanyeol wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close as Baekhyun rested his head on his shoulder.

"How was your day?" Chanyeol asked, his voice softening as he took a sip of his whiskey.

Baekhyun smiled, snuggling into Chanyeol's warmth. "It was good. I went to an art gallery today with Mark."

Chanyeol raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? Tell me about it."

Baekhyun's eyes lit up as he started talking about the exhibition, the pieces he had seen, and how he felt drawn to certain styles. "Chanyeol, you wouldn't believe the beauty of some of the pieces! The colors, the emotions—they speak to me in ways I can't even describe," Baekhyun said, his hands gesturing wildly. Chanyeol listened intently, his hand gently stroking Baekhyun's back as the conversation flowed. The sight of Baekhyun so passionate about something outside of the mafia life brought a rare sense of peace to Chanyeol's heart.

"There's this new artist, Mrs Mei Lin. Her work is mesmerizing. I can't wait to see what she creates next!"

Chanyeol raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Mrs Mei Lin? I think I've heard of her. Is she the one who had a showing at the gallery last month?"

"Exactly! Her pieces are so alive. She even came to our university for an exhibition too. I've been thinking about joining her art class to explore my creativity further. Maybe even get to know her better. It would be fun!" Baekhyun beamed, his enthusiasm infectious.

"I think that's a wonderful idea," Chanyeol replied, setting his glass down. "How about I sponsor the next gallery event? I want to support what makes you happy."

Baekhyun's eyes widened in surprise. "You'd do that? Really?"

"Of course! Anything for you," Chanyeol said, a soft smile playing on his lips. He loved seeing Baekhyun this excited.

"That would mean the world to me. I want to make a real effort in art. Plus, I think you'd like Mrs Mei Lin. She's not just talented; she has this warmth about her that draws people in," Baekhyun continued, oblivious to the subtle tension that flickered in Chanyeol's expression at the mention of another woman.

Chanyeol nodded, masking his discomfort. "If she's important to you, then I'd love to meet her. Just let me know when the next event is."

In the weeks that followed, Baekhyun and Mrs Mei Lin developed a friendship through their mutual love for art. Mei had a natural charm that Baekhyun found refreshing, and her insights into the art world fascinated him. With each gallery opening, Baekhyun found himself drawn to her enthusiasm, sharing laughter and discussions that filled him with inspiration.

~
~
~

The evening settled over Don Jackson, now dressed more casually in a fine black cashmere sweater and tailored slacks, reclined in the deep leather armchair in his lavish living room. The muted glow of dimmed lights creates a calm, almost serene atmosphere. Outside the large windows, the fading light of the setting sun bathed the city in a soft amber hue, while inside, a low hum came from the television. The news played quietly in the background, a reporter detailing the latest developments in world affairs, but neither Jackson nor his consigliere, Zhao Ren, paid much attention.

"Lucas," Jackson called, his voice steady as he took another sip of his whiskey. Lucas approached from the other side of the room, holding a file and his tablet. He'd been waiting for this moment.

"Boss," Lucas greeted with a respectful bow, stepping closer to Jackson's side.

"I've been thinking about that artist, Mrs. Mei Lin," Jackson began, flicking his cigar's ash into a crystal ashtray. "You have mentioned that Baekhyun's been developing quite a fondness for her art, right?"

Lucas opened the file, flipping through pages of detailed information on Baekhyun, his schedule, and his frequent visits to the art gallery. "Yes, boss. He's taken a strong interest in her classes, and Chanyeol's even sponsored two of her exhibitions."

Jackson's eyes narrowed slightly. "Interesting. A perfect opportunity for us. I want you to make an offer she can't refuse." He leaned forward, placing his whiskey down. "Buy one of her pieces for $200,000. She'll be thrilled—probably the biggest sale of her life."

Lucas raised an eyebrow but didn't interrupt. It was a large sum, but he knew Don Jackson's tactics. This was just the beginning.

"And," Jackson continued, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, "tell her she'll get another $200,000 if she does a little favor for us."

Lucas nodded, already understanding the direction this was going. "You want her to take pictures of Baekhyun and Chanyeol, don't you?"

"Exactly." Jackson's voice dropped, laced with a sinister undertone. "But not just any pictures. Intimate ones. Pictures of them fucking in the car–if at all he does, pictures of them kissing most importantly. We need something that'll give us leverage over Chanyeol. Mei Lin has the perfect access—Baekhyun trusts her, and sooner or later, she'll be close enough to him, maybe even invited to Chanyeol's estate for painting of some sort."

Lucas scribbled down the instructions on his tablet, nodding as Jackson spoke.

"I'll make sure she knows the deal. She gets the first $200,000 for the art piece—no strings attached. But if she wants the second half, she'll need to deliver those pictures."

Jackson's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. Mei Lin was an artist, not a criminal, but money had a way of blurring lines. She wouldn't be able to resist the temptation.

"But boss... Do you think she'll do it?" Lucas asked, always one to consider every possibility.

"She will," Jackson said with confidence. "It's just too much money for someone like her to turn down. And once she's in, we'll have her wrapped around our finger."

Consigliere Zhao Ren, who had been silently watching the exchange, chuckled darkly. "And if she doesn't deliver?"

Jackson took another long sip of his whiskey, leaning back into his chair. "If she doesn't deliver, then she's disposable. We would kill her for knowing about it even. But I doubt it'll come to that. These types of people always want more once they've had a taste of the money."

Lucas closed the file and nodded. "I'll take care of it."

"Good." Jackson waved him off, signaling that the conversation was over. As Lucas turned to leave, Jackson's eyes returned to the women on the television, but his mind was far from the news that surrounded him. He was focused on the bigger picture—the downfall of Don Chanyeol, piece by piece, and now, Mei Lin would be an unwitting participant in that game.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a dark orange hue across the sky, Jackson's plan was in motion. Baekhyun and Chanyeol were blissfully unaware that their world was being carefully dismantled—one more art class or exhibition, one photograph, one secret at a time.

~
~
~

Mrs. Mei Lin, a 35-year-old Chinese artist with a kind heart and calm demeanor, led a simple, fulfilling life. Her art, a reflection of her soul, was her passion, though it hadn't brought her immense wealth. Married to a university professor in South Korea, they lived modestly with their young son. Mei Lin divided her time between her family and her work, often traveling from one university to another to exhibit her art, particularly in creative arts departments. It was during one of these exhibitions that she found herself at Sogang University, the place where she met Baekhyun.

Baekhyun, who studied epistemology but nurtured a love for art, had enrolled in her art class as a hobby. Whenever his schedule allowed, he would attend her sessions, eager to explore the depths of creativity. Mei Lin took notice of his dedication, but what surprised her even more was when he mentioned that his boyfriend wanted to sponsor one of her exhibitions. At first, she thought nothing of it. But when the sponsorship came through, the amount far exceeded her expectations. It was then that she realized Baekhyun's boyfriend was no ordinary man—he was a powerful figure in South Korea, although she didn't know of his mafia ties. She only saw a generous benefactor.

One evening, after her usual routine of preparing dinner and spending time with her family, Mei Lin received an email. It was an offer that almost made her heart stop: someone wanted to buy one of her art pieces for a staggering $200,000. She stared at the screen in disbelief, her fingers trembling as she re-read the message. The excitement that surged through her was nearly overwhelming. She couldn't help but smile, her mind racing at the possibilities. This could change everything—her career, her family's financial situation, and the visibility of her work.

The email also mentioned a potential collaboration, though it was vague on the details. Despite her joy, a small part of her remained skeptical. Could this be real? Mei Lin thought about the offer for three days, pondering over it during her morning coffee, at her art studio, and even late at night as her husband slept beside her. She returned to the email repeatedly, contemplating every word. Finally, unable to resist the lure of such a lucrative opportunity, she responded, asking which pieces they wanted to purchase and what kind of collaboration they had in mind.

Shortly after her response, a representative arrived—someone Mei Lin didn't know, a neutral figure sent by Lucas. He browsed through her portfolio, selected a few pieces, and handed her a check for $200,000. Mei Lin's doubts vanished when she saw the money deposited into her account. She was ecstatic. Her modest life had been turned upside down in a matter of days, and she couldn't help but send an excited thank you email, expressing her gratitude and eagerness to collaborate further.
----

Lucas, back in Jackson's office, showed the email to his boss. Jackson leaned back in his chair, a knowing smile on his face as he read it. "I told you, they always come back for more," he said, amusement lacing his tone.

Lucas nodded, acknowledging the truth in Jackson's words. "What should we tell her next?"

Jackson smirked. "Tell her the deal. But this time, let's be careful. Make sure we handle this with a bit more... finesse."

Lucas crafted a careful response, suggesting they discuss further over the phone, knowing it would be more secure. When Mei Lin agreed to a call, Lucas employed advanced privacy technology, ensuring their conversation couldn't be recorded.
----

After days of waiting, Mei Lin sat in her modest kitchen, the quiet hum of the refrigerator and the faint sound of her son playing in the next room grounding her in the present moment. She stared at her phone screen, the email from Lucas lingering in her inbox like a tempting secret. The $200,000 had already hit her account, and yet the second offer sat there, more alluring than the first. The sum of another $200,000, along with the subtle request that came with it, felt almost surreal.

An hour later, her phone finally rang. The name on the screen was unfamiliar, but Mei Lin knew it was Lucas. She took a deep breath, steadying her nerves, and answered.

"Mrs. Mei Lin, thank you for taking my call," Lucas began smoothly, his voice calm and measured. "I hope you've had time to consider our proposal."

Mei hesitated, her fingers curling around the edge of the kitchen counter. "I have. It's... it's quite a generous offer."

"We believe in rewarding those who collaborate with us. We'd like to make this as easy for you as possible. All we ask is for a small favor, something simple. Discreet." His words carried an almost rehearsed precision, designed to comfort and persuade.

"And that is...?" Mei Lin asked, her heart pounding as she forced the question.

"Invite Baekhyun's boyfriend to your future exhibitions. Capture moments between them, something personal and intimate. A photograph of them kissing and displaying a PDA. Just that, and you'll receive another $200,000. We'll make sure everything is handled quietly and smoothly."

Mei swallowed hard. She knew this was more than just an art deal now, but the money... It was life-changing. "It's just pictures, right? I... I'll do it," she said quietly, her voice wavering slightly.

"Excellent," Lucas replied without a hint of surprise. "I'll send someone over tomorrow with the necessary paperwork. Once it's signed, we'll proceed."

True to his word, the next day the same man who had handed her the first check arrived at her gallery, this time with a formal document. Mei Lin's stomach fluttered with nerves as she sat at her dining table, pen in hand. The paper in front of her was crisp, the terms laid out clearly. She understood the weight of what she was agreeing to. This wasn't just business—it was stepping into a world she didn't fully comprehend.

With a slow, deliberate motion, she penned down her signature at the bottom of the page. The man, calm and professional, extended his hand for a firm handshake once the deal was sealed. Mei returned the gesture, her hand trembling slightly as their palms connected. The weight of her decision hung in the air as he left, the door closing behind him with a soft click.

From that moment, Mei Lin became noticeably more invested in Baekhyun. Whenever she visited Sogang University to host her usual art classes, she went out of her way to offer him private lessons. At first, Baekhyun didn't think much of it—he assumed it was simply because he showed more interest in her work than some of the other students. But there was something different about the way Mei Lin engaged with him. Her tone was warm, almost motherly, but there was always an undercurrent of something Baekhyun couldn't quite put his finger on.

"Baekhyun, dear," she had said one afternoon as they stood in front of a half-finished painting he had been working on. "You've improved. I can see how much you love this. You're a natural."

Her praise always left him feeling a bit flustered, unsure whether she was just being kind or if she meant it. He looked at her with a shy smile, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead.

"I'm still learning," he admitted, "but I'm enjoying it a lot. It's become my favorite way to unwind."

Mei Lin's eyes lit up, her fingers gently tapping the edge of her easel. "That's wonderful to hear. You know, if you'd like, I can offer you private lessons. We could work on perfecting some of your techniques. You've got a real gift, Baekhyun."

Baekhyun blinked in surprise, a wide smile spreading across his face. "Really? That'd be amazing. I didn't think you had the time."

"For a student like you? I'd make the time," Mei Lin replied with a soft smile. "Besides, it's nice to have someone who appreciates the finer details of art the way you do. We could work more closely on your pieces."

The offer was too tempting to refuse, and soon enough, Baekhyun found himself spending more and more time with her outside of class. Mei Lin's approach was always subtle—her movements precise, her words crafted with care. She would ask about his life, his studies, and occasionally, his boyfriend.

"Chanyeol must be so proud of you," Mei Lin commented one afternoon while they were cleaning up after a lesson. "He's been such a wonderful supporter of the arts. You're very lucky."

Baekhyun's face brightened at the mention of Chanyeol. "I am. He's amazing. He even sponsored a couple of your exhibitions, you know. He's really into art."

"I know," Mei Lin replied, her tone soft and thoughtful. "It's rare to find someone who's not only generous but also passionate about what they're supporting. I've been meaning to thank him properly."

Baekhyun tilted his head, curiosity sparking in his eyes. "Thank him? You mean, like, in person?"

"Yes, exactly," she said, her voice light but with just enough encouragement to pique his interest. "It would be lovely if I could express my gratitude face-to-face. Maybe at my next exhibition? It would mean a lot to me."

The suggestion hung in the air, and Baekhyun, ever trusting and eager to please, nodded enthusiastically. "I'm sure he'd love to come! Chanyeol loves these kinds of events. I'll invite him."

Mei Lin's smile widened, a flicker of satisfaction hidden behind her warm expression. "That's wonderful. I'll make sure it's a special evening. It'll be an honor to have him there."
----

As the days passed, their conversations grew more casual, and Mei Lin worked diligently to maintain her carefully crafted rapport with Baekhyun. He would often come to her studio, sometimes staying longer than his scheduled lessons, chatting about art. Mei Lin would listen intently, her questions always laced with subtle curiosity about Chanyeol's habits, his preferences, and their time together. Which Baekhyun would always avoid talking about.

The closer Mei Lin got to Baekhyun, the more she knew she was closing in on what Lucas and Jackson wanted. The invitation to Chanyeol had been extended, and all that was left was to ensure that everything fell perfectly into place at the exhibition.

But even as she wove herself into Baekhyun's trust, there was a part of her—small but present—that recognized the risk. She was playing a dangerous game, one that was far beyond the world of art she had once known. Yet, with every step deeper, the money, the power, and the allure became too much to resist.

And Baekhyun, so innocent in all of this, was unknowingly leading the way.

As Baekhyun returned home one evening after a particularly lively art event, he found Chanyeol waiting for him in the living room, a plate of his favorite snacks set out on the table, and a bottle of red wine.

"Hey, how was the gallery?" Chanyeol asked, a smile lighting up his face.

"It was incredible! Mei Lin showcased some of her new work, and it was breathtaking," Baekhyun gushed, settling into the seat beside Chanyeol. "You should have seen the colors! I can't wait for you to meet her."

Chanyeol's heart raced, but he managed to keep his voice steady. "I look forward to it. Just remember, Baekhyun, art can be subjective. Don't let anyone influence your passion."

Baekhyun nodded, grateful for Chanyeol's support. "I won't. I just want to explore this side of myself."

~
~
~

Baekhyun hummed quietly to himself as he left Mei Lin's studio, the invitation card clutched in his hand. The day had gone well, and he felt a sense of excitement bubbling within him. Mei Lin had personally handed him the invitation, expressing how much she wanted to thank Chanyeol in person for his support. Baekhyun smiled at the thought—Chanyeol would surely love the gallery launch.

When Baekhyun arrived back at the house, the air felt calm, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow through the large windows. He made his way upstairs, heading straight for Chanyeol's bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, and as he gently pushed it open, he saw Chanyeol sitting on the edge of the bed, his iPad in hand. Chanyeol was dressed in a black light-fit jacket, he wore a fitted white shirt beneath, and the sleeves of the jacket pushed up closer to his elbows, showcasing the intricate tattoos that snaked around his arms. A pair of dark jeans and fresh sneakers completed the look, giving him an effortlessly sexy appearance as he prepared for the night ahead.

Chanyeol looked up when he heard Baekhyun enter, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Oh, hey baby, you're back."

Baekhyun's heart fluttered at the greeting, and he stepped further into the room. "Yeah, I'm back," he replied softly, walking over to where Chanyeol sat.

Chanyeol placed the iPad down beside him, his dark eyes fixed on Baekhyun as he stood by the bed. "I was just about to head out. I have a couple of meetings tonight." He said, getting up from the bed.

Baekhyun's gaze swept over him, taking in how well Chanyeol looked in his outfit. He always seemed so effortlessly put together, a powerful aura radiating from him. "Will you be back soon?" Baekhyun asked, his voice tinged with a hint of disappointment.

Chanyeol reached out, gently pulling Baekhyun closer. "I'll be back before midnight," he promised, "but don't wait up for me, okay?"

Baekhyun sighed softly, nodding. He reached into his bag and pulled out the invitation card Mei Lin had given him. "Oh, by the way, Mrs. Mei Lin invited you to the opening of her new gallery. She wants to thank you for sponsoring her exhibitions."

Chanyeol took the card from Baekhyun's hand, quickly glancing over it before setting it on the nightstand. "I'll check my schedule, but I'm not sure if I'll be able to make it. Things are hectic right now."

Baekhyun frowned slightly, a pout forming on his lips as he looked up at Chanyeol. "You're not even going to try?"

Chanyeol smiled, flicking the tip of Baekhyun's nose with his finger, earning a giggle from the younger man. "You're too cute for your good," he murmured before pressing a soft kiss to Baekhyun's forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment.

Baekhyun's heart fluttered wildly, his stomach doing somersaults as Chanyeol's warmth enveloped him. Then, before he could say anything more, Chanyeol gently tilted his chin up and captured his lips in a slow, sweet kiss. It was soft, and gentle, but filled with promise—a reminder that no matter how busy things got, Chanyeol would always find time for him.

When they pulled away, Chanyeol smiled softly. "Don't wait up for me tonight, okay? I'll be back before midnight, but I don't want you staying up."

Baekhyun pouted again, but this time it was playful. "Fine," he muttered, leaning his forehead against Chanyeol's chest. "But you better come to that gallery opening."

Chanyeol chuckled, ruffling Baekhyun's hair. "I'll do my best." Then, with one last lingering kiss, he grabbed his phone and made his way to the door, before turning to look at Baekhyun one more time. "Be good while I'm gone."

Baekhyun smiled brightly, his heart full. "Always."

And with that, Chanyeol was gone, leaving Baekhyun standing in the quiet room with the faintest trace of a smile on his lips. He stared down at the invitation card on the nightstand, silently hoping that Chanyeol would make it to the gallery opening.
----

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden hue across the sprawling estate, Don Park Chanyeol prepared for the evening's crucial dealings. His loyal consigliere, Heechul, flanked him on one side, while the imposing figures of Underboss Sehun, Caporigeme Hawk, and Caporigeme Jongin stood at attention nearby, ready to accompany him.

"Let's make this quick," Chanyeol said, his tone a mix of authority and confidence. "I want to be back before midnight."

Heechul nodded, a knowing smile on his lips. "I'll make sure it goes smoothly. You know we have your back."

The group moved as a cohesive unit, stepping outside to a row of black luxury GMC SUVs parked in the driveway. The drivers, discreet yet alert, waited with the doors open. Chanyeol slid into the back seat, with Heechul beside him and Sehun in the seat directly across. Hawk and Jongin followed closely behind in another vehicle.

As they drove through the streets of Seoul, the atmosphere in the car was charged with anticipation. Chanyeol reviewed the details of the meeting in his mind. This was not just any negotiation; it was a critical deal with a network of associates that included some of the most influential figures in the underworld. The stakes were high, and he needed to ensure everything went off without a hitch.

"We're meeting at the old shipping warehouse near the docks," his Consigliere and lookout man, Heechul informed the group. "It's secluded and perfect for what we need."

Don Chanyeol nodded, his jaw set in determination. He had done his homework, ensuring that the associates he would meet—Minho, a fierce arms dealer; Dong-wook, a notorious smuggler; and Kyung-ho, a rising player in the drug trade—were all well aware of his reputation and influence. This meeting was about solidifying alliances and securing a reliable supply chain for his operations.

Upon arriving at the warehouse, the GMC SUV's engine rumbled to a halt. Chanyeol stepped out, his presence commanding attention. The warehouse loomed before them, unmarked and shrouded in shadows. Inside, dim lights flickered, illuminating the faces of the gathered associates, who eyed Chanyeol and his entourage with a mix of respect and curiosity.

"Don Park," Minho greeted, extending a hand, his expression neutral yet cautious. "Glad you could make it."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Chanyeol replied smoothly, shaking his hand firmly. "Let's get down to business."

They moved to a long table set up in the center of the warehouse, maps and documents scattered across its surface. As discussions began, Chanyeol laid out his vision for a new distribution route that would streamline their operations and expand their reach into lucrative markets.

"Look, we have an opportunity here," Chanyeol began, his voice steady and persuasive. "The current distribution channels are inefficient. If we redirect some of our shipments through Dong-wook's contacts, we can avoid the scrutiny that's been ramping up from the authorities."

Dong-wook leaned forward, intrigued. "How much are we talking about, Chanyeol? I need numbers."

"I propose a 15% cut for each of you on top of what you already earn," Chanyeol replied confidently. "In exchange, I want your full cooperation in ensuring these shipments go undetected. I don't want any loose ends."

Kyung-ho crossed his arms, considering the offer. "And how do we know we can trust you? You've made big promises before."

Chanyeol's eyes narrowed slightly. "You can verify my operations. My people have a track record. I've handled larger shipments without any issues. Besides, if this goes south, you'll be just as affected as I will be. It's in our best interests to see this succeed."

A murmur of agreement rippled through the room. Minho nodded. "He's got a point, Kyung-ho. We either collaborate and make a fortune or risk losing everything by trying to go at it alone."

Chanyeol seized the moment. "Exactly. We're stronger together. Think of the profits we can reinvest back into our operations. This isn't just a one-off deal; this is about building something bigger."

As the conversation continued, the associates shared insights and ideas. "I can help with moving arms through my channels," Minho offered, tapping a pen against the table. "If we coordinate our logistics, we could run things seamlessly."

"Great," Chanyeol replied. "And what about you, Dong-wook? I need to know what you can offer regarding the smuggling routes."

Dong-wook smiled slyly. "I can move shipments across borders without attracting attention. Just give me a cut and a little time to work my magic."

"Consider it done," Chanyeol said, the tension in the room easing as his confidence radiated.

Throughout the negotiations, Hawk and Jongin stood watchful, their eyes scanning the room for any signs of dissent or trouble. Sehun and Heechul engaged with the other associates, ensuring that the atmosphere remained amicable and focused.

As the hours passed, Chanyeol's confidence only grew. The associates responded positively to his proposal, and the room buzzed with ideas on how to make the arrangement mutually beneficial. Dong-wook suggested leveraging his connections to move shipments more discreetly, while Kyung-ho offered insights on recent changes in law enforcement tactics that could impact their operations.

By the time the meeting concluded, Chanyeol had successfully secured a deal that would not only bolster his position but also strengthen alliances that had the potential to propel him closer to his goal of becoming a Godfather. The associates nodded in agreement as they sealed the deal with handshakes, and Don Chanyeol couldn't suppress a satisfied grin.

As they exited the warehouse, Chanyeol felt the weight of the night lift from his shoulders. The negotiations had been fruitful, and with his associates solidly behind him, he was one step closer to establishing his dominance in the underground.

The drive back was filled with an air of triumph. Chanyeol exchanged satisfied glances with his crew, the camaraderie palpable in the vehicle. Heechul leaned in, breaking the silence. "You handled that like a pro, Don Park Chanyeol. They're going to think twice before crossing you."

"Let them," Chanyeol replied, a glint of determination in his eyes. "I'm just getting started."
----

It was just past 11:30 when Don Chanyeol arrived at his mansion, the quiet stillness of the night wrapping around him as he stepped out of the car. A few of his soldiers on watch gave him a respectful nod, which he returned with a brief one of his own, his mind already elsewhere. The mansion was mostly dark, save for the faint illumination from the wall lights, creating a gentle glow that guided his path inside. The chandeliers had been dimmed, leaving just enough light for him to navigate the spacious halls.

He moved silently up the grand staircase, his footsteps barely making a sound on the plush carpet as he approached the bedroom. Opening the door, he was greeted by the peaceful sight of Baekhyun curled up under the covers, sound asleep. His small form seemed even smaller beneath the heavy blanket, his face barely visible, framed by a few strands of loose hair.

Chanyeol couldn't help the soft smile that spread across his face. He stepped closer, careful not to disturb the quiet. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he reached out and gently brushed the stray hairs away from Baekhyun's face. His fingertips barely grazed the soft skin, but it was enough for him to take in the peaceful beauty of the boy sleeping before him. With a tender smile, he leaned down and pressed a light kiss to Baekhyun's forehead.

Rising from the bed, Chanyeol quietly moved to the closet, shedding his clothes in silence. He could still smell the lingering scent of cigarette smoke from the night's meeting clinging to him, so he headed to the bathroom for a quick shower. The warm water washed away the day, leaving him feeling refreshed and eager to return to Baekhyun.

Dressed in his comfortable nightwear, he slipped into bed, careful not to wake Baekhyun. He curled up behind him, gently wrapping an arm around his waist, pulling him close. Baekhyun stirred slightly, his body shifting as he turned to face Chanyeol, his sleepy eyes barely open. He nuzzled his face into Chanyeol's chest, breathing in his fresh scent.

"You're back," Baekhyun mumbled, his voice soft and laced with sleep.

"Yeah, baby," Chanyeol whispered, his hand moving to gently stroke Baekhyun's hair. "I'm back."

Baekhyun let out a sleepy hum, his body relaxing even more against Chanyeol's. "Welcome home..."

"Thank you, baby," Chanyeol replied, his voice tender as he continued to caress Baekhyun's head. He felt Baekhyun drift back to sleep in his arms, the steady rhythm of his breathing calming his own tired heart.

Holding Baekhyun close, Chanyeol let out a quiet sigh of contentment, the warmth of the moment wrapping around them both like a blanket. He pressed another soft kiss to the top of Baekhyun's head before closing his eyes, allowing sleep to take him as well, the night enveloping them in its quiet, peaceful embrace.

~
~
~

The atmosphere inside the gallery buzzed with energy, the walls adorned with colorful canvases that showcased the talent of emerging artists. Baekhyun stood in front of one of Mei Lin's pieces, completely absorbed. His excitement was palpable, and his eyes sparkled with anticipation as he waited for Chanyeol's arrival.

"Can you believe it? I've been talking about this all week!" Baekhyun exclaimed, glancing around the gallery, his heart racing with anticipation. He had been looking forward to sharing this moment with Chanyeol.

Just then, the door swung open, and Chanyeol walked in, flanked by his Underboss, Sehun, and Consigliere, Heechul. Dressed sharply in a tailored suit, Chanyeol exuded an air of confidence that turned heads. His eyes searched the gallery until they landed on Baekhyun, who rushed over to him.

"You made it!" Baekhyun beamed, taking Chanyeol's hand in his. "I'm so glad you're here! I can't wait for you to see Mei Lin's work."

Chanyeol smiled, squeezing Baekhyun's hand reassuringly. "I'm here to see what's got you so excited. Show me everything."

As they moved through the gallery, Baekhyun pointed out various pieces, describing the emotions and inspirations behind them. Chanyeol listened intently, appreciating Baekhyun's passion. They stopped in front of a stunning abstract piece, vibrant swirls of color drawing them in.

"This one is Mei Lin's," Baekhyun said, his eyes shining. "It's about finding beauty in chaos. Isn't it amazing?"

Chanyeol nodded, genuinely impressed. "It really is. She sounds like an incredible artist."

But as they continued to search for Mei Lin, Baekhyun's excitement turned to disappointment. "Where could she be? She was supposed to be here."

Just then, Chanyeol's phone buzzed, drawing his attention. He frowned as he glanced at the screen, his expression shifting to concern. "I have to take this," he said, stepping away to answer the call.

Baekhyun watched as Chanyeol moved to a quieter corner, his brow furrowing in worry. Sehun and Heechul exchanged glances, sensing the sudden shift in Chanyeol's demeanor. After a brief conversation, Chanyeol returned, his expression serious.

"Looks like I need to handle something urgent. I'll be back as soon as I can," he said, running a hand through his hair, frustration evident on his face.

Baekhyun's heart sank. "Do you have to go?"

"I do, but I want you to stay here with Sehun. I'll be back before you know it," Chanyeol reassured him, his voice softening.

Sehun nodded. "I'll make sure he's safe."

"Okay," Baekhyun replied, though his disappointment lingered. As they moved toward the exit, he couldn't shake the feeling of missing out on Mei Lin's presence.

Chanyeol opened the car door and turned back to Baekhyun, pulling him close. "I'll call you later, alright?"

Baekhyun nodded, and without thinking, he leaned in and kissed Chanyeol, their lips brushing softly before deepening the connection. It was a moment of warmth amidst the chaos, and Baekhyun savored the affection.

As they pulled away, Chanyeol's eyes softened. "I'll be back soon. I promise."

As Chanyeol drove away, Baekhyun stood at the entrance, watching the taillights disappear into the distance. Despite the excitement of the evening, a feeling of unease settled in his chest. He turned back toward the gallery, hopeful that Mei Lin would still make an appearance.

~
~
~

That evening, Baekhyun stood at the edge of the gallery, scanning the room for any sign of Chanyeol. His hands clutched the edge of his phone, glancing at the time as the minutes ticked by. Sehun stood just behind him, his quiet presence a comfort, though it did little to calm Baekhyun's growing anxiety. Mrs. Mei Lin suddenly appeared, her smile warm and bright as she approached.

"Baekhyun, dear! How are you?" she greeted, looking around expectantly. "Where's your boyfriend? Is Chanyeol here?"

Baekhyun forced a smile, trying to keep his voice steady. "He had to attend to something important, but he'll be back soon," he said, though the slight quiver in his voice betrayed his growing concern.

Mei Lin sighed softly, her smile softening. "I hope he makes it before we close. I've been meaning to thank him in person for his incredible generosity. I'm so excited to see him and express my gratitude."

Baekhyun nodded, glancing over his shoulder once more, hoping to catch sight of Chanyeol. His heart sank further when there was no sign of him. "Don't worry," Baekhyun reassured her, though mostly trying to convince himself. "He'll be here. He promised."

But as the evening wore on and the gallery began to empty, Baekhyun's optimism dwindled. The disappointment weighed heavy on his chest, and his eyes began to well with tears, despite his best efforts to keep them at bay.

Underboss Sehun stepped forward, resting a hand on Baekhyun's shoulder. "Baekhyun, it's late. It's already past eight. Let's go home," he said gently.

Baekhyun shook his head, his voice trembling as the tears finally spilled over. "He said he was coming, Sotto Sehun. He promised. He promised he'd be here."

Mrs. Mei Lin approached them again, her expression sympathetic. "Baekhyun, don't be too upset. I'll be hosting another gallery event early next year. I'm sure your boyfriend will be able to attend then." She smiled warmly, placing a hand on his arm. "And we'll still see each other at the art classes. Don't worry, we'll keep in touch."

Baekhyun nodded weakly, offering her a small, sad smile before Sehun gently guided him out of the gallery. He climbed into the back of the sleek Jeep, sinking into the seat as a wave of disappointment washed over him. His heart felt heavy, his thoughts swirling with the broken promise. The ride back to the mansion was quiet, Baekhyun barely registering the passing scenery as he stared blankly out the window.

When they arrived, Baekhyun barely glanced at the mafia soldiers standing by the entrance. He kept his head down, ignoring their respectful bows as he hurried inside. The grand doors of the mansion closed behind him with a soft thud.

Kyungsoo was passing through the hall, a basket of laundry in his arms. He stopped when he saw Baekhyun, his eyes narrowing with concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice low and gentle.

"I'm fine," Baekhyun muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just need to rest."

Kyungsoo hesitated, his eyes following Baekhyun's slow steps toward the stairs. "I made food earlier. Do you want me to fix you something?"

Baekhyun shook his head, already halfway up the staircase. "No, thanks. I'm not hungry."

Kyungsoo watched as Baekhyun disappeared up the stairs, sensing the weight of his emotions. He knew better than to pry. With a small sigh, Kyungsoo turned back to his laundry, deciding to leave Baekhyun to his thoughts for now.

Once Baekhyun reached his room, he shut the door behind him and let out a shaky breath. The flood of emotions he had been holding back all evening came rushing forward. He collapsed onto his bed, burying his face in the blankets as the tears fell freely. The disappointment, the sadness—it all overwhelmed him. Chanyeol had promised, and yet, he wasn't there. And for Baekhyun, that hurt more than he could express.
----

Chanyeol's car rolled into the Fire and light Mafia Estate, the low hum of the engine breaking the silence of the night. It was already past 10 p.m., and exhaustion hung heavy on him after a long day of back-to-back meetings. Asphalt Constructions, his company, had presented an unexpected crisis, forcing him to stay much longer than planned. His mind replayed the missed gallery opening, and guilt twisted in his chest. Baekhyun had been waiting for him all evening to return.

The car came to a stop, and Chanyeol stepped out, flanked by his consigliere Heechul, his tall frame casting a shadow under the dim estate lights. The soldiers on duty stood at attention, bowing their heads in respect as their Don passed by. Chanyeol gave them a brief nod, barely acknowledging them, his mind elsewhere. He quickened his pace towards the house, hoping to find Baekhyun and explain.

Inside the mansion, there was an unsettling quiet. The grand hallway was dimly lit, and Chanyeol's footsteps echoed as he made his way through. His heart thudded in his chest as he realized Baekhyun wasn't anywhere in sight. He headed to his bedroom, hoping to find him there, but the room was empty. Anxiety began to build as he moved down the hall to Baekhyun's bedroom.

Chanyeol pushed open Baekhyun's door, not finding him in his bedroom. A frown formed on his face as he realized where Baekhyun might be. With quiet steps, he made his way to the bathroom. The door was slightly ajar, and as Chanyeol pushed it open, he found Baekhyun sitting on the bathroom counter, tissues scattered around him, some balled up and tossed into the waste bin.

Baekhyun was wiping his tear-streaked face, his eyes red and swollen from crying. He didn't even look up as Chanyeol entered. The sight made Chanyeol's chest tighten with guilt.

"Baekhyun," Chanyeol called softly, stepping into the bathroom.

Baekhyun paused, his hand clutching a tissue as he wiped the corner of his eye. His lips quivered, and he sniffled before finally looking up at Chanyeol, his gaze filled with hurt. "You promised you'd come back," he said, his voice shaky. "I waited for you. You said you'd return."

Chanyeol's heart sank. "I know... I'm sorry," he said, stepping closer. "Something came up at the last minute. The meeting ran longer than I expected." He reached out to him, but Baekhyun shrugged him off, stepping down from the counter, and turning toward the door. "Please, just leave me alone," Baekhyun muttered softly, starting to walk away. But Chanyeol quickly grabbed his arm, pulling him back toward him. "Baekhyun, listen to me. I didn't want to miss it. I—"

"It was the last gallery of the year," Baekhyun said through sobs. "Mei Lin's last exhibition, and you missed it. You missed it."

Chanyeol's heart clenched as he watched Baekhyun unravel in front of him. He understood how important this night's event had been, but the reality of his responsibilities had kept him away. He took a deep breath and said with a sharper tone, "Baekhyun," Chanyeol said, gripping his arm harder. "Listen to me!"

Baekhyun froze at the sudden intensity in Chanyeol's voice, his breath catching in his throat. They stood there, staring at each other, the tension between them thick. Chanyeol's eyes softened, but the frustration in his voice remained. "I'm sorry," he repeated, softer this time. "I didn't want to let you down."

Baekhyun's lower lip trembled as he blinked back more tears. His shoulders slumped, and for a moment, he seemed like he was going to walk away again. But Chanyeol wasn't letting him go. He pulled Baekhyun closer, wrapping his arms around him, and despite his anger, Baekhyun didn't resist this time.

"I'm sorry, baby," Chanyeol whispered into Baekhyun's hair. "I know I hurt you."

Baekhyun remained still for a moment, his hands clenched into fists against Chanyeol's chest. Then, with a sudden burst of frustration, he started hitting Chanyeol lightly, his fists connecting with Chanyeol's chest. "This is unfair, Yeol!" he cried. "You always say you'll be there, but then something comes up, and I'm left waiting."

Chanyeol let him hit him, his grip on Baekhyun tightening. He pulled Baekhyun even closer, lifting him up from the ground with ease and placing him back onto the bathroom counter, holding him there as Baekhyun's fists slowed, his tears flowing freely again.

Chanyeol stared at him, his own heart breaking at the sight of Baekhyun's pain. Then, without warning, Chanyeol leaned in and kissed Baekhyun fiercely, his lips crashing against Baekhyun's in a desperate, passionate kiss. Baekhyun's breath hitched as he melted into the kiss, his arms wrapping around Chanyeol's neck, pulling him closer. The anger, the frustration, and the sadness seemed to dissipate in that moment, replaced by the intensity of their connection.

Chanyeol's hands gripped Baekhyun's waist as he deepened the kiss, lifting him slightly off the counter as their lips moved together in perfect sync. Baekhyun's fingers tangled in Chanyeol's hair, his heart racing as the kiss grew more heated.

Chanyeol pulled back for a brief second, placing his ass back on the counter, his forehead resting against Baekhyun's as they both caught their breath. "I'm sorry," he whispered again, his lips brushing against Baekhyun's as he spoke.

"I'll make it up to you," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I promise, I'll make it up to you."

Baekhyun nodded, his eyes fluttering closed as he pressed his lips to Chanyeol's again, this time softer, more tender. Before letting Chanyeol wrap his arms around him in a warm hug.

~
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~

The atmosphere in Jackson's office was tense, shadows stretching across the room as he sat behind a large oak desk, reviewing documents related to his operations. His Underboss, Lucas, entered with a tablet in hand, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Boss, you need to see this," Lucas said, sliding the tablet across the desk.

Jackson looked up, intrigued, and grabbed the device. As he swiped through the images, his expression transformed from casual interest to a mix of surprise and delight. The photos captured the intimate moment between Chanyeol and Baekhyun kissing perfectly, by his car, their chemistry radiating through the screen. Jackson's lips curled into a sly smile as he observed the two men lost in their own world, oblivious to the eyes watching them.

"Look at this," Lucas continued, crossing his arms. "No wonder Chanyeol chose him. He likes pretty things, doesn't he?"

"Beautiful," Jackson muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he leaned back in his chair. "And it seems our little Godfather-in-the-making has quite a weakness. This could work in our favor."

Lucas nodded, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. "If we can leverage this relationship against him, it could hinder his rise to power. The Mafia and love don't mix well, after all."

Jackson's mind raced, plotting his next move. "We need to send these shots to the syndicate leaders. Let them see that Chanyeol isn't as untouchable as he thinks he is. If they find out he's in love, it could jeopardize his nomination for Godfather."

His fingers drummed against the desk, deep in thought. "But we need something more than just these photos. Tell Mei Lin that we need more evidence of intimacy—something that proves they're involved beyond just a casual fling. A shot of them together, maybe during a moment of vulnerability. She has to make this work and I don't care the measures she's gonna take. Get it done."

Underboss, Lucas bowed and left.
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Author's note 📝

I hope you enjoyed the chapters I dropped today! 😊 I want to hear your thoughts... It's about to get intense! 🔥 The next chapters will be thrilling, and that's all I'll say. No major spoilers, but expect some surprises! 💥 Please drop your comments; you may not know, but when I read your feedback, it motivates me to update more! Thank you for your kind support. I love you all! ❤️