A life that was anything but peaceful; a sports career filled with endless noise and chaos!
‘I’ve had enough. I just want a quiet life now.’
Determined to live a normal life, Han Jeheon settles down in San Diego. Just when he feels like he’s finally approaching the life he’s dreamed of—
“I can fulfill most of what you want. In exchange, will you quietly place yourself in my grasp?”
A suspicious figure appears. Not only a celebrity, but practically an existence every American adores—not merely as a star, but as a human being itself.
‘Why is someone this perfect obsessed with me, offering himself up like a doormat?’
…Could I have gotten myself tangled in something dangerous?
[Excerpt]
“I’m sick of it now.”
“……”
“So let me ask you directly.”
The other hand grasped the nape of my neck and rubbed it softly. Immediately after, a low, sticky voice whispered right next to my ear.
“I can give you almost anything you desire, so will you quietly come into my grasp?”
There was no way to misunderstand. I couldn’t delude myself into thinking it meant anything else.
This was a straight, unrestrained flirtation, hitting me head-on!
“Whether it’s money, fame, or even my body. Whatever you want, I’ll provide it.”
The man chuckled low in his throat, looking down at me as he spoke.
“From what I saw earlier, you seemed to like my body quite a bit.”
Frozen in shock at the sudden proposition, I stiffened as his knee slipped between my legs. Soon, his lips were pressed directly against my ear as he whispered—
“Do you want it?”
“Good morning.”
…What?
Caught in shock, my mouth hung open as I froze, and he grinned, slipping something into my parted lips. I chewed—it was a perfectly ripe summer cherry.
“…You’re not mad?”
“Why would I be?”
“I can’t be the only one left with these damn memories, so why are you acting like you don’t know anything?”
Caesar tilted his head, puzzled, and answered,
“People get cranky when they’re hurt. I do too, when I’m in pain.”
Where the hell do I even start correcting this…?
As I stood there blankly staring at him, Caesar shoved another cherry into my mouth.
“How are you now? Does it still hurt?”
“I’m fine. The pain’s gone.”
“Then that’s good. If you’re not hurting, I’m fine too.”
“That doesn’t even make sense…”
“It does here.”
While I was still stunned, Caesar began cutting the cherries with a knife, separating the pits as he said—
“I figured you might be in a bad mood, so I was making Macedonia.* Thought you might be happy if I cooked you something you like…”
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