Katubari

* At night
He was rugged and untamed. That one steamy night left Grace utterly captivated. She coyly stretched out her dainty, snow-white feet, hooking them around his waist as she softly laid down her terms:
For the first time, no staying overnight.
The second time, the moment he got himself a significant other, she'd vanish from his side.
Later on, their liaison would remain strictly on a physical level.
No strings of money attached, no emotional fetters, just the most primal and unadulterated desires that flared up when night fell, entwining them like a web spun by countless spiders.
And once the moment had passed, she'd straighten her skirt and turn her back on him, cold as ice.
*During daytime
He was the heir to a vast business empire, now impeccably dressed in a sharp suit, exuding an air of aristocratic reserve. He extended his hand to her with a polite smile, 
“Hello, Grace.”
Grace gritted her teeth in secret dismay. She hastened to call off whatever was brewing between them, only to find herself cornered against the dressing room by the man, with no way out.
In that cramped space, he was a relentless predator, and she, his irresistible quarry. His firmness pressed against her soft curves, setting every inch ablaze.
Outside the door, her female colleagues were swooning over his chiseled abs.
Just a thin partition away, he locked his arm around her willowy waist, seized her delicate hand, and guided it to rest on his taut abdomen, his voice dripping with a sultry allure, “Thought you could slip away? It's far too late for that.”

Dangerous: Don't cross the line!

Grace rushed to the orphanage, only to find chaos inside.

A group of thugs, adorned with gold chains and tattooed arms, were rampaging through the place, smashing everything in sight.

One of the children, seizing an opportunity, lunged at the leader—the man with the thick gold chain—and bit down hard on his arm.

"Let go, you little brat!" the man roared, shaking the child off and slamming him to the ground. Enraged, he raised his foot, aiming to stomp on the child's stomach.

Without hesitation, Grace grabbed a vase and hurled it at the man's head. The impact sent him staggering, blood streaming down his face.

"You dare hit me? You've got a death wish!" he snarled, his eyes blazing with fury.

The other thugs closed in like a pack of wolves, forcing Grace and the child to retreat. She prayed silently for the police to arrive soon.

Suddenly, the screech of tires pierced the air.

He is different