The sleek luxury car stopped in the parking lot of a high-end shopping mall
in the city center. Too exhausted to argue or protest, Peach followed the
mafia boss like a docile shadow. It wasn't until he got an iced Americano
from a stylish café and took a few much-needed sips of caffeine that his
fatigued mind finally began to reboot.
Walking behind Thee, the young photographer blended in almost
effortlessly with the entourage, sipping his coffee occasionally while letting
his gaze wander aimlessly through the mall. At this point, he was too
resigned to worry about being caught in the middle of a security detail. The
coffee in his hand and the mall's bustling atmosphere seemed like a better
focus than the discomfort of his situation.
By the time his cup was halfway empty, Thee had led him to a high-end
Japanese restaurant. Peach stopped to look at the sign, feeling a little dazed,
until Thee's voice pulled him from his thoughts. With few options, he
followed the mafia boss inside, still somewhat in a daze.
It was exciting, though. Peach loved Japanese food, and eating at such an
expensive restaurant—one he had never even dreamed of visiting—was
definitely a thrill. But that thrill came with an uncomfortable, strangely out-
of-place feeling.
Maybe it had something to do with the armed escorts and the fact that his
dinner companion was a mafia boss.
He stood there silently lamenting his fate for a good three seconds before
one of the escorts gave him a gentle push forward. Taking the hint, he
walked deeper into the restaurant, into the private dining area. When the escort slid the door open, Peach was surprised to see that they didn't follow
him inside. Instead, they left him alone with the mafia boss.
Seriously, guys? You're just gonna leave me here with your boss? Alone?
Peach screamed internally but obediently stepped into the private room.
What was he supposed to do? He wasn't a beautiful model whom Thee
would indulge with patient tolerance if he decided to throw a fit. No, there
was no point in testing his luck.
The sheer cost of this restaurant was staggering—there was no way Peach
could afford to eat here on his own. However, if someone else was paying,
he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity.
"Order something," Thee said, arms crossed, as the waiter placed the menu
on the table. Peach opened it and skimmed the options, but his eyes got
stuck on the prices. His brow furrowed slightly, a pang of discomfort
surfacing.
It wasn't that he didn't have money, but spending thousands on a single
meal? That just… wasn't going to happen.
"Is this on you?" he asked, just to be sure, shooting a cautious glance at
Thee—complete with unintentional puppy-dog eyes.
The mafia boss hesitated for a moment, his expression unreadable, before
answering.
"I'm putting you to work. Of course, I'm paying." His gruff tone might
have intimidated most people, but the confirmation had the opposite effect
on Peach. A bright smile spread across his face, and he dove back into the
menu with renewed enthusiasm.
Peach had read glowing reviews of this place before—it was on one of
those "must-visit restaurants before you die" lists. Back then, he could only
longingly stare at pictures on his phone, promising himself that if he ever
landed a big job, he would treat himself to a meal here. Now that the opportunity had fallen into his lap (at no cost, no less), he couldn't help but
take his time choosing.
After some internal debate, he finally settled on a large bowl of unagi don.
He heard Thee order something that sounded fancy—a steak of some sort.
Once the waiter served their food and quietly left, closing the door behind
him, realization hit Peach like a ton of bricks.
He was alone. In a private room. With Thee.
Holy hell. The allure of good food had completely distracted him from the
glaringly obvious danger of being trapped with a mafia boss.
How had he let this happen?
Internally, Peach was screaming. His brow furrowed tightly, and tension
returned to his body. He sat there, frozen, trying to figure out how he should
handle the situation. But the more he tried to think, the more blank his mind
became, which only frustrated him further.
Between the lack of sleep and the mounting pressure of the past few hours,
Peach had reached his limit. There was no way he could come up with a
clever plan to make sense of all this right now.
"Alright, what's this about you needing me for something?" he asked,
getting straight to the point after hesitating for a moment. The sooner they
talked, the sooner he could eat, and the sooner he could collapse into bed.
Thee paused for a moment, seeming to ponder something. Finally, he spoke.
"You said that if I was interested, I should try flirting first. How does that
work?"
The young photographer blinked, completely confused, until last night's
conversation hit him like a ton of bricks. Oh, right. He had told Thee not to
use force; if he wanted someone, he should simply try flirting. But he
hadn't thought the guy would actually take him seriously.
A tough, hardened mafia boss wanting to court someone? It seemed like
Aman's softness had really gotten to him.
But then again, Aran was stupidly cute. That kind of face could drive a bad-
boy mafia type crazy with love—classic romance novel material, right? The
tormented hero who starts out all tough but softens for the one he loves. As
his superior and friend, it was probably his job to keep the situation under
control and make sure things didn't turn violent or, God forbid, into an
actual assault. Just some harmless teasing and maybe a little love-hate
dynamic, and everything should be fine.
"I'm not exactly an expert at winning people over," he said with a small
shrug. Now that he knew why Thee had come to him, all his previous
tension and discomfort started to fade. Besides, this clearly wasn't directly
his business, which made him feel even more at ease. The conversation
began to flow more naturally.
"But you've dated someone before, haven't you?" Thee pressed.
He shook his head quickly, an awkward smile tugging at his lips as he
scratched the back of his neck. "Not really. We were friends first. She asked
me out after breaking up with her ex, and we lasted, like, a month before it
fizzled out."
The mafia boss frowned, his forehead creasing as if he wanted to say
something, but the food arrived at that moment. He waited until everything
was served before continuing, probably to avoid sounding pushy when he
didn't actually have experience.
"I think courting is a personal art," Peach said. "It's about showing genuine
interest, getting to know each other better, and figuring out if you're
compatible. It's a step toward seeing if a relationship can grow."
"Why bother? It's just sex. Does it really need to be that complicated?"
"It might just be sex for you, but if the other person doesn't want it, you
can't just force them, right?" he said firmly, trying to knock some sense into Thee. The idea of this mafia boss losing his patience and actually forcing
himself on Aran sent a shiver down his spine.
Thee's eyebrows furrowed deeper, as if he was about to argue, and just
seeing that gave Peach a headache. Seriously, what kind of upbringing
twisted someone's logic this badly?
"Put yourself in their shoes for a second," he insisted. "If someone forced
you to do something you didn't want to do, wouldn't you be angry?"
Thee scoffed loudly, full of disdain. "Who would dare?"
Peach rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to bang his head against the nearest
wall. Why was having this conversation so exhausting?
"It's a hypothetical, alright?" He sighed, feeling the conversation drain all
his energy. He decided to change tactics. "If it were me, I'd be devastated.
I'd be furious. I'd hate them for the rest of my life. There would be no
chance of forgiveness—ever."
He leaned into the drama, building it up to make his point, watching as
Thee's frown deepened more and more. He waited until he felt he had
scared Thee enough before softening his tone.
"Look, just think about it, Mr. Thee. Don't act on impulse. Imagine if
someone did that to you—wouldn't it hurt?" Even if it's just a one-night
stand, if the other person isn't willing, it's not okay. Using money, power, or
manipulation to make someone give in never leads to anything good."
With that, Peach turned his attention to the enormous bowl of rice with eel
in front of him. He grabbed a big bite with his chopsticks, and as soon as
the food touched his tongue, his mood improved.
He focused on eating, savoring every bite, unconcerned with the look Thee
was giving him from across the table.
They both concentrated on their meals for a while, letting the silence stretch
between them, until, unexpectedly, the conversation resurfaced. To Peach's surprise, it was the mafia boss who broke it.
"I'm interested in that model. Can you help me get in touch with him?"
Peach froze mid-bite, chopsticks still in his mouth, and looked up,
confused. "I mean, I could, but… wouldn't it be better if you approached
him yourself? It would probably feel more genuine."
"And how exactly should I approach him?" Thee asked, sounding more and
more like a curious child.
"Well, maybe start by giving him a small gift."
"What kind of gift? Should I buy him a car?"
Peach nearly choked on his food, grateful he had already swallowed his bite
of rice. "A car??? Are you crazy, Mr. Thee?"
"No? What about a diamond ring? Or maybe a condo?"
"OMGGGGGGG," Peach whispered, dramatically dropping his forehead
onto the table. The more Thee spoke, the more Peach realized this
conversation was spiraling out of his comprehension. "Control your ideas,
Mr. Thee! You can't just throw money around like that—it's too much!"
"I don't think it's that expensive," Thee replied, completely serious. Peach
stared at him, stunned, before raising a hand to stop him. This needed to be
shut down before Thee's next idea crossed the line from ridiculous to
outright terrifying.
"Let's rewind and start with something simple," Peach suggested, trying to
steer things in a safer direction. "Why don't you learn more about Aran
first? Like what he likes. That way, you can give him something thoughtful,
and it'll make things easier for you. Plus, you'll have an advantage over
Tawan."
The mafia boss raised an eyebrow at the unfamiliar name, looking
intrigued. Peach, who had been watching his reaction, quickly explained.
"Tawan is a rising star—super popular right now," Peach said. "He's really
close to Aran, almost like they're a couple, but Aran told me they're just
talking. Still, Tawan takes great care of him. He's handsome, kind,
generous… but incredibly jealous."
The more Peach talked, the deeper Thee's frown became, his face darkening
with clear irritation. It was as if a storm cloud had gathered around him,
radiating an ominous energy. Peach paused, realizing a little too late that he
had just been praising Thee's romantic rival. Probably not the smartest
move.
But, hey, their status is still just "talking," he quickly added, offering a
sheepish smile. "Nothing's really official, you know?"
Thee didn't move, his frown as deep as ever. Peach let the awkward silence
linger for a moment, his mind scrambling for a way to salvage the
conversation. Finally, he spoke again.
"Why don't we start with a nice bouquet of flowers?" he suggested,
desperate to change the topic. "Your first conversation didn't go exactly
smoothly, so sending flowers as an apology could be a good idea."
He hesitated briefly, realizing he could offer more useful advice, and
continued.
"In fact, since Aran is the new brand ambassador for Arseny and just
finished filming their fall collection, you could send him a small gift to
congratulate him. Something simple, like chocolates—classic and well-
liked by most people. Though, for Aran, they should be extra sweet. He has
a huge sweet tooth."
"What about you? What do you like?"
"…"
The abrupt question caught Peach off guard, making his eyes widen slightly
in confusion. It seemed completely out of place in their discussion, leaving
an awkward pause between them.
"I'm just asking for reference. I've never really given anyone a gift before."
Peach blinked a few times before responding in a murmur, his previous
confusion vanishing in an instant. "You can't use that as a reference,
though. When choosing a gift, the first thing you should think about is the
recipient's preferences. That's the basic way to show sincerity."
Thee frowned slightly, looking both annoyed and a bit exasperated, but not
angry enough to be intimidating. Peach watched him tilt his head in mild
frustration, and then—surprisingly—a slight smile appeared on Thee's lips.
Peach's own thoughts betrayed him. Whoa. Did he almost look…
endearing?
…Wait. Nice? The mafia boss who probably kept a gun within arm's reach
and carried a constant air of menace? What the hell is wrong with me?
He let out a long sigh, dismissing the ridiculous thought, and looked down
at the eel in his bowl. Fine. For the sake of this ridiculously good lunch,
he'd help. But it had nothing to do with finding Thee likable. Not. One. Bit.
"Don't worry about it, Mr. Thee. I already promised to help, didn't I? I'll do
some research and see if I can find out what Aran likes. Once I know, you
can buy him something based on that."
With that, Peach refocused on his eel bowl, savoring each bite. Honestly,
when he thought about Tawan—the temperamental rising star that he was—
he found himself quietly awarding another point to the young heir of the
Arseny family.
In the end, Peach decided to treat this whole situation like watching a play
unfold—only with a front-row seat.
Not bad. This could be fun.