Owned by My Bodyguard

Jae-min Park stood at the massive marble window of his father’s penthouse, fingers drumming against the glass. Down below, Seoul pulsed with neon lights and camera flashes—lights that once worshipped him. Now they hunted him. “You can’t hide me like a scandal, Appa,” he snapped, turning around. His father’s jaw clenched. “You’ve already become one. You crashed your car into a news van, insulted a reporter on live TV, and were photographed kissing a male model at a political gala.” Jae-min rolled his eyes. “So? I like kissing. And crashing into reporters was an accident—mostly.” His father stood and slammed a folder on the table. “You’re not invincible, Jae-min. This time it’s serious. Someone sent a threat letter to my office. It said: ‘Next time, I’ll aim for the boy.’” Silence. Jae-min’s cocky smirk faded. “I’m assigning you a bodyguard,” his father said. “Effective immediately.” “What?! No. No way. I don’t need some military stiff following me to the bathroom.” A low knock interrupted them. The door opened. And there he was. Tall. Black suit. Black eyes. Deadly calm. Joon-ho Jeon. Ex-special forces. Trained killer. Cold as steel. Jae-min’s gaze slid down his broad chest, the way his fingers stayed neatly by his side, like he was controlling the urge to strangle someone. Hot. “I said I don’t need a babysitter,” Jae-min said, folding his arms. Joon-ho didn’t flinch. “I don’t do babysitting. I do protecting. Whether you like it or not.” His voice was low. Dangerous. Like he didn’t care who Jae-min was. That made it worse. Jae-min stepped forward. “Listen, Mr. Secret Agent. I’m not one of your battlefield missions. I don’t need saving. I don’t need orders. And I don’t—” “Then die without my help,” Joon-ho said flatly. “I don’t care.” Jae-min blinked. The room went quiet. His father smiled smugly. “He’ll live with you. 24/7.” “What?! In my apartment? Hell no.” But it was already decided. His father walked out. Jae-min turned back to Joon-ho, furious. “You don’t scare me.” Joon-ho stepped closer, close enough that Jae-min could smell his cologne — cedar, gunpowder, and trouble. “Good,” Joon-ho said. “Because I’m not here to be your friend.” Their eyes locked. One full of fire. The other of ice. And Jae-min didn’t know whether he wanted to punch him—or pull him closer. [End of Chapter 1] 📌 Next Chapter Tease: Jae-min wakes up to Joon-ho shirtless in his kitchen Public threats increase First touch — accidental, electric