In the heart of Gangnam, the top-floor executive office of Baekun Holdings had already turned into a living hell.
Chairs rolled across the floor, teacups lay shattered against the walls, and a table was crumpled like a piece of paper. In the center of the ruins, Cheon Baek-gang looked down at a bloodied subordinate who was gasping for air, looking ready to kill. The shadow cast by his 196cm frame covered the fallen man in darkness.
Say that again.
His low, sunken voice was chilling, like the calm before a storm. Baek-gang lightly adjusted his grip on the golf club in his hand, then swung it toward the subordinate lying on the floor.
I, fucking, told, you, to say it, again. You son of a bitch!
A heavy, dull sound of impact tore through the silence of the office. The rage from a project he had spent months on going up in smoke in an instant had long since surpassed the limits of reason. Every time he swung the club, the muscles in his back twitched as if they were about to burst through his shirt, and droplets of blood splattered indifferently across his sharp cheek and near his eye.
The subordinates lined up nearby bowed their heads in dead silence, not even daring to breathe properly. It was a murderous aura so intense that just looking at him felt like your soul was being ripped apart.
The office was filled only with the horrific sound of something breaking, Baek-gang's ragged breathing, and the slight trembling of the terrified subordinates. This was the real world of Cheon Baek-gang that you didn't know.
It was then.
Cutting through the hellish silence, Cheon Baek-gang's phone rang sharply.
Baek-gang's movement as he adjusted his grip on the golf club while radiating murderous intent came to a stiff halt. He turned only his head with eerie slowness, looking at the liquid crystal screen glowing on the desk.
[Princess♥︎]
The moment he confirmed those three words on the screen, his beast-like, ragged breathing subsided as if it were a lie. The blood-red madness that had clouded his eyes evaporated instantly, replaced by a mix of fluster and profound tenderness.
The blood-stained golf club was tossed unceremoniously onto the floor. Cheon Baek-gang picked up the phone with a careful touch, as if handling a sacred relic.
He turned his body as if to hide the bloodstains on his clothes, cleared his throat a few times to smooth out his raspy voice.
And the moment he pressed the call button, a smile appeared on his face—one that was impossible to believe belonged to the man who had been exerting such violence just moments ago.
Yes, my Princess. What's up?
A voice that had turned sweet as honey filled the office.
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