The mafia princess's prey

The rain started before sunset. Not the gentle kind. It poured heavily across the city, turning streets silver beneath neon lights while thunder rolled somewhere far away. People rushed past with umbrellas, shoulders tense, desperate to escape the storm. Inside a small flower shop tucked between two crowded buildings, warmth still existed. The scent of roses, lavender, and fresh soil wrapped softly through the air. And in the middle of it stood Kim Ruth. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, dark hair slightly messy from exhaustion, fingers carefully tying white ribbon around a bouquet of lilies. A small heater hummed near the counter while old music played quietly in the background. The shop was nearly empty. Just the way he liked it. Peaceful. Quiet. Safe. Ruth glanced at the clock hanging above the wall. 9:47 PM. Another late night. Another shift after finishing his second job. His shoulders ached badly, but he ignored it like always. Because there were bills to pay. Medicine for his father. School fees for Yuna. Groceries. Electricity. Life never paused long enough for him to rest. The bell above the door suddenly rang. Ruth looked up automatically. And froze. A woman stepped inside dressed entirely in black. Black heels. Black long coat dripping rainwater onto the floor. Silver rings decorating elegant fingers. Her face was almost hidden beneath the dim lighting, but one thing was instantly clear— She was beautiful. Dangerously beautiful. The kind that didn’t belong inside small flower shops. The kind people stared at without realizing. Ruth straightened politely. “Welcome.” She didn’t answer. Instead, her dark eyes slowly wandered around the shop before landing directly on him. And staying there. Ruth felt oddly nervous under her gaze. Not because she looked rude. But because she looked… interested. Like she had suddenly discovered something amusing. Or precious. The girl walked deeper into the shop, heels clicking softly against the floor. Her eyes moved over the flowers absentmindedly. But every few seconds— they returned to him. Ruth cleared his throat awkwardly. “Can I help you find something?” Silence. Then finally— “White roses.” Her voice was smooth and calm. Pretty. Ruth nodded quickly. “For a special occasion?” She stared at him for two long seconds before answering. “No.” A pause. “I just wanted to see if they matched you.” Ruth blinked. “…What?” The girl tilted her head slightly, watching his confused expression with open curiosity. “You look soft,” she said honestly. “Like white flowers.” Ruth almost dropped the ribbon in his hands. Was she flirting? This directly? He didn’t know how to respond. The girl suddenly smiled faintly. And somehow that smile felt more dangerous than anything else. “I’m Rachel,” she said. Ruth hesitated before answering politely. “Kim Ruth.” Rachel repeated his name slowly. As if tasting it. “Ruth.” Something about the way she said it made warmth crawl awkwardly up his neck. He quickly looked away and busied himself arranging flowers. Rachel noticed immediately. Cute. Very cute. She had met powerful politicians, ruthless businessmen, armed criminals, and men who would kneel from fear at hearing her surname. But this exhausted florist boy? He couldn’t even handle eye contact. And somehow that fascinated her. Rachel slowly wandered around the shop while Ruth prepared the roses. The place was tiny but comforting. Warm yellow lights. Tiny handwritten price tags. A sleepy cat curled near the window. It felt painfully human. Painfully normal. Rachel had spent her entire life inside marble mansions filled with guards, blood, weapons, and fear. But here? Everything smelled alive. She liked it immediately. Her gaze landed on Ruth again. His fingers moved carefully while arranging flowers, despite obvious exhaustion beneath his eyes. He looked tired. Too tired for someone his age. Rachel noticed small details naturally. The slightly faded hoodie beneath his apron. The bandage around his wrist. The way he quietly stretched his shoulder when he thought nobody was watching. He was overworking himself. Her expression darkened slightly. Who was making him suffer like this? “Here,” Ruth said softly, bringing the bouquet toward her. Rachel looked down. Beautiful. Simple. White roses wrapped carefully in paper. “You arranged them yourself?” Ruth nodded. Rachel touched one of the petals gently. Then she looked back at him. “You’re prettier than the flowers.” Ruth choked. “W-What?” Rachel looked genuinely confused by his reaction. “Was that too much?” “Yes.” “Oh.” A beat passed. “Then I’ll slow down.” Ruth stared at her speechlessly. Who even was this woman? Rachel suddenly leaned slightly against the counter, watching him openly now. “You work here alone?” “Mostly.” “You’re young.” “I’m twenty-three.” “You look younger.” Ruth gave a small awkward smile. “Thanks… I think.” Rachel liked his smile instantly. Not because it was perfect. Because it looked real. Gentle. Unprotected. Something inside her chest tightened strangely. She wanted to see it again. Again and again. “You smile even when tired,” Rachel said quietly. Ruth paused. Nobody usually noticed things like that. “It’s not a big deal,” he answered softly. Rachel thought otherwise. People who smiled while suffering were dangerous in their own way. Because eventually— they broke silently. And for some reason… Rachel suddenly didn’t want this boy to break. The storm outside worsened. Thunder echoed loudly enough to shake the windows. Ruth glanced outside with concern. “You should head home before the roads flood.” Rachel ignored that completely. “Do you always take care of strangers?” Ruth looked confused again. “I mean… basic kindness?” Rachel smiled slightly. Cute. So unbelievably cute. She stepped closer. Close enough for Ruth to notice the expensive perfume mixed with rainwater. Close enough for him to realize how intimidating she actually was. Her gaze stayed locked on his face. “You really don’t know who I am, do you?” Ruth blinked. “Should I?” Rachel laughed softly for the first time. And somehow the entire atmosphere changed with it. Warm. Alive. Beautiful. “No,” she murmured. “That’s what makes this interesting.” Before Ruth could ask what she meant— the shop door suddenly opened again. Three large men in black suits entered first. Then another. Armed. Cold-faced. Deadly. Ruth instinctively stiffened. The atmosphere shifted instantly. The men lowered their heads respectfully toward Rachel. “Miss Rachel,” one of them said carefully. “Chairman Laun is waiting.” Ruth’s eyes widened slightly. Chairman Laun? The Chairman Laun? The man who basically controlled half the country? Rachel sighed dramatically. “You people ruin everything.” “Apologies, Miss.” Rachel turned back toward Ruth. And suddenly— her expression softened again. Completely different from before. Like he alone could pull gentleness from her. She reached into her coat pocket and placed a black card onto the counter. No name. Just a number. “For the flowers,” she said. Ruth looked at the card quickly. “This is too much—” “Keep it.” “I can’t—” “You can.” Her tone wasn’t harsh. But it carried authority powerful enough to silence arguments instantly. Rachel stepped backward slowly toward the door. Still staring at him. Still interested. Still curious. Then finally— “I’ll come again tomorrow, Ruth.” Not “maybe.” Not “if I can.” A promise. Ruth stood frozen as she walked away surrounded by bodyguards. The black cars outside disappeared into the rain seconds later. And silence returned to the flower shop. Ruth stared at the door blankly. His heart was beating strangely fast now. He didn’t even know why. He picked up the black card she left behind. Then he noticed something written softly on the back in elegant handwriting. You look lonely when you smile. I want to know why. — Rachel Ruth’s breath caught slightly. Outside— the storm continued. But somewhere far away inside a luxurious black car— Rachel sat staring out the window quietly. One of her bodyguards carefully glanced at her through the mirror. “Miss Rachel… should we investigate him?” Rachel smiled faintly without looking away from the rain. “Yes.” A pause. “Everything.” Then softer— “Because I think I found something I want.”