WHEN TWO RED FLAGS KISS.

2026. PRESENT. SEOUL.

☠️ SORA ☠️

“Hello, may I have your attention, esteemed passengers. Flight KE 058 from Africa has landed at Gate 31. Please proceed to Baggage Claim Hall A for your luggage. We wish you a pleasant stay in Seoul.”

On the most serious side, I don’t want to be in this cow dunk hole called home, but what choice do I have? I was summoned by my mother, and nobody dares to disobey the Don. I haven’t tried it, but I’ve seen people do it, and I don’t recommend it.

Fifteen years ago, I was sent to Africa, which was the perfect hiding place for me at the time, after getting adopted by the most brutal, heartless, and scariest family that I never thought I would be involved with.

One after the other, everyone in my orphanage got adopted by a sweet, loving, memorable family until it was time for me to get adopted. I got hell! Literally and figuratively, our family is named Hell.

The family of Hell Morgathor. Powerful, dangerous, and untouchable, the second largest mafia in South Korea, ruled by my adopted mother, and she plans to pass it down to me.

Which everyone in the family is against, by the way.

It wasn’t good news when my mother walked into my orphanage that night and pointed straight at me. I remember getting the chills of my life, looking behind me, and wishing so hard she was pointing at a fucker behind me, but behind me was a darn wall.

The first time I stepped into the hell penthouse, the family house, I assumed it was heaven, only to later realize it was hell disguised as heaven.

An encounter that turned my life around… for the worse. I swear, I’d so much prefer to continue being an orphan who feeds hand to mouth.

Apparently, the Don saw something in me that I still don’t see in myself.

As soon as I step out of the airport, the butler rushes towards me with a wide grin on his face; he’s the only one smiling so sheepishly in this entire airport. “When I last saw you, you were fifteen,” he says cheerfully.

“Don’t worry, I’ll wait while you catch up,” I retort, and I can swear I hear him chuckle.

The old man is the closest person to me in the penthouse; he made life in that hell manageable until I was sent to Africa.

Men rush to pick up my luggage, and one other man standing by the car rushes towards me with a phone, accompanied by an expression of dread on his pale face. I figure it’s my mother calling, the Don.

“Mom,” I say into the phone.

She clears her throat from the other end of the call, “Sora, I sent a different ride after you. A-Jun knows you’re at the airport; he’s going to try to kill you.”

“Already? How did he…” I pause, knowing asking and not acting would only get me in trouble, she hates ‘all talk, and no do’.

Sensing my curiosity, she continues, “My consigliere was kidnapped and killed last night. I fear A-jun is responsible for the torture to force out information about you from him; he has been so desperate in finding and killing you.”

“Okay, Mom,” I respond shortly, trying to remain as composed as I can after hearing that the thing I fear the most is coming after me. In less than a minute, I arrive at the airport.

My mother clears her throat again, “You have only just returned, I don’t want to pressure you. Stay alive, Sora, you are the next Don of Hell Morgathor,” she says, and I nod as if she can see me, hearing the line break as she hangs up from her end.

Now I’m whispering to myself, “I don’t want to pressure you… proceeds to pressure me,” rolling my eyes.

I inhale sharply as horrifying memories from five years back I thought I had escaped from slowly coming to say hello. A-jun is nothing but a nail in my butt, a constant thorn in my ribs. If A-jun still wants me dead just as much as he did back then, I fear my life is about to take the worst turn.

The well known 'demon,’ is my cousin, on paper. Ruthless, heartless, demonic... he shouldn't even be classified as human. And I? I’m trying to match his energy. He hates me, and the feeling is mutual. I hate that demon even more, after three murder attempts on me when I was still but a child, who wouldn’t?

My mother sent me to Africa to protect me from A-Jun, specifically, the demon who is still very much after my life. But I’m grown now, a different story, I can defend and protect myself, during the years, I even earned myself a stage name, ‘Dickress.’ While A-Jun is repeatedly called ‘Demon’ by the whole nation.

I turn to the bunches of Hell Morgathor soldiers standing beside cars that are meant to protect me, and even with this many men, I still feel on edge.

“A-Jun, the son of the underboss, is going to try to harm me. Keep your eyes open for any life threat towards me,” I command.

“Yes, Miss Sora Hell Morgathor,” they say in unison, and I walk towards the limousine in the middle of the other cars while the men enter other cars to protect the limousine.

“Fuck A-jun,” I whisper to myself as the door into the vehicle slides open, “The Don is already too much for me to deal with, I can’t believe I have to deal with a widely known ‘demon’ who, for God and I know what reason, wants me dead. An ass.”

Whatever is between A-jun and I is so strong, it never fades and some how keeps consuming us both. Our heated hatred for each other comes with an unlimited subscription.

A tired sigh escape my lips as I try to wipe out every thought of A-jun and settle in the limousine. I’m barely half body into the vehicle when a rough hand grabs me by the neck and drags me in roughly. I can’t scream because I can barely even breathe. From the corner of my eyes, I watch the door slam shut, the driver kick-start the vehicle, and begin the journey, and there goes my only hope to survive this ambush out the window.

I tap the hand that is squeezing my throat, too afraid to choke to death, but much more afraid to look at the owner of the hand. I fear I know who it is.

I tap harder as my face begins to turn purple, and suddenly, he spins me around, and I’m staring him dead in the eyes, “A-jun,” his name comes out of my lips like a whistle. Even as a kid, seeing him made my heart skip a beat 25 times in 24 hours. Not in a good way, in everything horrifying way.

I was living with a wolf.

Back then, every time our eyes met, it was like a ticking time bomb without numbers. Tension and fear would fill my body because I didn't know, nor could I predict, when it would explode.

And that is the same thing I feel right now... Only worse, he might actually kill me now.