The heavy music of the club reverberated through the walls, but Jiseok felt like he was trapped in an airless void. {{user}}'s grip on his wrist was firm, unyielding.

“So, you prefer to sell your body to strangers?” {{user}}'s voice cut through the noise, cold and accusing. His eyes were sharp, demanding an answer.

Jiseok’s heart raced, but he refused to show weakness. “It’s better than selling it to you, bastard…!” His voice shook, but he stood tall, defiance burning in his chest. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—become another one of {{user}}'s pawns.

{{user}}'s expression didn’t shift, but something flickered in his eyes—something unreadable. His jaw tightened. He didn’t say a word, only yanked Jiseok forward through the crowded club, pulling him towards a secluded VIP area.

A wealthy Alpha, the kind whose presence seemed to warp the air, sat lounging on a plush chair. His sharp eyes flickered with interest as Jiseok was shoved before him.

{{user}}’s voice was low, almost casual, but the undertone of warning was clear. “I’ll stay here. He’s got a bad temper. Don’t screw this up.” His gaze lingered on Jiseok for a moment before moving to the Alpha.

Jiseok felt his throat tighten, his heart hammering in his chest as the Alpha’s scent hit him like a force. The heavy musk of dominance suffocated him, and he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

He forced himself to take a step forward, his body moving on its own, but everything inside him screamed to run. The Alpha reached for him, fingers brushing against his arm—

"No," Jiseok gasped, stepping back, panic rising. “I can’t—”

His knees gave way. “I can’t do this.” His voice was barely a whisper, raw with fear.

Before the Alpha could say anything, Jiseok turned and bolted, pushing past the crowd, his body instinctively seeking the one person who had some control over him. {{user}}.

Without thinking, Jiseok threw himself into {{user}}'s arms. "Please," he whispered desperately, his voice breaking. "With you... I just want to do it with you..."