*THREE YEARS AGO* The church was full of white. White roses. White chairs. White dress. Isabella De Luca was supposed to walk down that aisle today. My fiancée. My future. Instead, I got a black envelope. No note. Just 3 photos. Her. In a car. With another man. Her. Laughing. Her. Dead in a ditch 2 hours later. The cops called it a robbery gone wrong. I called it my fault. Because I was at a deal. Because I was the Devil’s Son. Because men like me don’t get happy endings. They buried her in white. I buried the man I was that day. Three years. Three years of blood, deals, and empty rooms. Three years of "don’t touch me" and "don’t look at me like that". I don’t do love anymore. Love gets you killed. So when my men told me about a girl begging at St. Mary’s Hospital... A girl with 7 days to save her brother... A girl desperate enough to sign anything... I didn’t feel pity. I felt opportunity. A wife on paper. A body in my bed for safety. A distraction from the ghost in my wallet. One year contract. 50k. No love. No touching. Rule 1, 2, and 3. She’ll learn. They all learn. I am Damien De Luca. And I don’t save people. I buy them.

"Thailand didn’t clap the night Lisa Monaban was born. It held its breath.30 minutes. That’s how long her father lived after her first cry. Ruler of a Bangkok district. Feared. Respected. Dead in the same hour his heir arrived.The headlines didn’t say “Tragic coincidence.” They said “The child killed him.”By sunrise, Lisa had a name she didn’t choose: "Murderer" By sunset, her grandmother, Mrs. Kannika, dragged her and her mother out of the Monaban estate barefoot. “You brought a demon into this house,” Kannika hissed, spitting at Lisa’s swaddled body. “Your womb is cursed. And she has his eyes. The devil’s eyes.”Was Lisa possessed? She didn’t know. But the whispers followed her like shadows. At the market: _“Don’t touch her, she’s tainted.”_ At school: _“Murderer. Say it back to me.”_ So she did. She said it until the word stopped cutting. If the world wanted a demon, she’d learn to dance with one. Because there was one thing the rumors couldn’t kill: Lisa was born to move. When the music played, even the hate went quiet. Her body remembered steps she was never taught. Like someone was guiding her from the other side.*10 years after her birth.* Her mother was dying. Cancer. Quiet. Fast. The last thing she did was buy two plane tickets with her last savings. “Thailand will eat you alive, baby,” her mom whispered at the airport. “Go to Korea. Dance. Live. Don’t look back. Don’t let them name you.”And Lisa didn’t. She landed in Seoul with one suitcase, her mother’s funeral money, and a fire in her chest. She auditioned for Hansei Entertainment with bruised feet and Bangkok in her accent. The judges called her “too wild.” “Too emotional.” “Too much.” She debuted as a trainee anyway. Because demons don’t ask for permission.But Korea wasn’t clean either. The whispers found her. _“Thai trainee. Her dad died when she was born. Bad luck.”_ And in that same trainee dorm, sleeping on the bunk above her, was *Jae-hyun Park*.Jae-hyun. 19. Hansei’s golden boy trainee. Perfect vocals. Perfect face. Perfect family. The company called him “the next big thing.” Lisa called him “annoying” the first day he offered her half his ramen.“You eat like you’re fighting the noodles,” he said, watching her. “You stare like you’re studying me,” she shot back. He grinned. “I am. You don’t flinch. Everyone else here is scared. You look like you’ve already survived worse.”He didn’t know how right he was. Jae-hyun started leaving her things. A hair tie when hers broke mid-dance. A blanket when she fell asleep in the practice room. A note on her locker: _“The stage is yours. Don’t let them take it. - J”_ Lisa told herself it was nothing. Trainees don’t do romance. Demons don’t do soft. But at night, when the dorm was quiet, she’d hear him humming. And for the first time in her life, “Murderer” didn’t echo in her head. His voice did.The problem? 3 months before debut evaluations, a letter arrived at Hansei. No sender. Inside: a photo of baby Lisa. And her father’s body. And 4 words written in red: _“SHE KNOWS TOO MUCH.”_Someone in Bangkok remembered her. Someone didn’t want Lisa Monaban to debut. Because if she got famous… people would start asking questions about the night a ruler died 30 minutes after his daughter was born.Now Lisa has two wars: One on stage. To debut. One in the dark. To find out who killed her father... before they kill her. And Jae-hyun? He keeps looking at her like she’s not a curse. Like she’s the answer to a question he’s been afraid to ask. Bounded with your demon. Bounded to the boy who sees past it.