Sim Jaehyun

Korea had fallen beneath a cold blanket of snow, leaving Seoul glittering beneath a frozen night. Among the city's shadows lived Yang Wonyoung, a name whispered with fear. Her beauty was sharp enough to cut, yet lethal enough to bring a person to their knees—and it was a weapon she knew how to use. Very well. Men constantly flirted with her, never realizing the beautiful woman smiling at them was one of Korea's most notorious assassins. Everyone knew her reputation, but an assassin couldn't exactly live openly, so Wonyoung maintained an ordinary life in a tiny Seoul apartment, where she was a cheerful, sweet little cutie patootie, almost completely unrecognizable from the woman behind the legend. But whenever a contract called, the softness vanished, replaced by the cold, merciless assassin everyone feared. She had a few habits whenever someone pushed her too far: a slight tilt of her head, the casual brushing away of invisible dust from her clothes, and a smile. Small. Pretty. Deadly. The kind of smile that made people rethink every decision that had led them to that moment. Then there was Sim Jaehyun—Jaehyun to those who knew him—unhumanly handsome, as though someone had carved him from the marble of a perfect Greek god. Charming, shamelessly flirtatious, and effortlessly charismatic, he possessed the sort of smile that could probably make flowers bloom in winter. People gravitated toward him without meaning to; conversations seemed brighter when he entered them, and hearts seemed to beat a little faster when he smiled. One snowy evening, Wonyoung returned home to find the devastatingly handsome stranger sitting inside her apartment. He had accidentally entered the wrong apartment while escaping trouble, leaving her with a suspicious stranger and him with a strangely fearless girl who seemed far too calm about the situation. Neither knew the other's true identity. They parted as strangers, assuming they would never meet again. They were wrong. 😭🌸🖤