Logan
The sun was relentless.
High, bright, burning against the dry Washington air, casting long shadows over The Gorge.
I barely noticed.
I had too much work to do.
The venue was already alive with motion. Crew members scurried across the grounds, running cables, adjusting lighting, setting up last-minute equipment. Security teams patrolled the entry points, reinforcing barricades, double-checking wristbands and clearance lists.
Nova's fans were already gathering outside, even though the show wasn't for hours. Thousands of them. Many had been camped out since yesterday.
K-pop fans weren't just fans.
They were a movement.
I had worked high-profile events before, nothing large or grand or with people this "important." But this?
This was something else entirely.
I was scanning the perimeter, making sure the VIP pathways were clear, when one of the guys on my team—Nate, a former Army MP—sidled up next to me, a smirk on his face.
"Hey, Carter. Do you think K-pop idols have groupies? You know, those guys who follow bands and hook up with the members?"
I shot him a look. "I don't think girl groups do that sort of thing, Nate."
He grinned. "If you hear otherwise, let me know. I'd like to put in my application for groupie number one."
I rolled my eyes. "You're an idiot."
He nodded toward the entrance, where the tour buses had just pulled in and Nova had started to exit.
"Let the magic begin," he muttered. "They don't even have to try. They just step off the bus, and it's like the world tilts a little."
I raised an eyebrow at him. "Dude, that was strangely poetic."
He nodded seriously. "I'm a wordsmith. It's amazing I don't have a girlfriend."
"I'm not surprised," I said dryly. "That's what happens when you're an idiot."
"Captain. You called me an idiot twice. That really hurt."
We stopped to watch as the four members of Nova greeted fans with backstage passes and members of the press.
I studied them. Everything about them was polished. Effortless. Expensive.
Not in a forced way, either. They just existed like that.
Even in simple outfits—leggings, sneakers, oversized hoodies—they looked like they'd walked off a movie set.
Perfect posture. Perfect skin. Hair that caught the breeze like it was contractually obligated to move in slow motion.
And the way they moved?
It wasn't rehearsed. But it was practiced.
Like they'd been trained for years to step into any space and own it.
Nate leaned in again. "David told me you met Ji-an once upon a time. True story?"
I glowered at him. "David has a big mouth. Where is that jackass?"
Nate nodded behind him. "Back at the main entrance."
There was a small commotion as the Nova girls tried to get moving again. We watched Ji-an pause for a few selfies with fans.
Damn, she was cute just as pretty as I remember.
Jacob, one of the junior security guys, whistled softly under his breath. "This is gonna be a long day."
Nate chuckled. "You seeing this, Carter? This is the moment we all realize we peaked in high school."
"Not sure you ever peaked Nate." I said cauaslly scanning the rest of the arrivals.
The super VIP crowd was trickling in. It wasn't just fans. This tour had attracted serious money.
I spotted a cluster of Korean businessmen stepping out of sleek black SUVs near the restricted entrance. Their movements were calculated, their suits crisp despite the heat.
These were the kind of men who didn't just attend concerts.
They funded them.
Security escorted them toward the private seating area, where top-tier corporate sponsors had the best seats in the house.
It wasn't just them, either.
There were younger guys in luxury streetwear—high-end sneakers, fitted jackets, sunglasses that probably cost more than my first car—who carried themselves with a blosterous excubrance that only a silver spoon could devlier.
I made a mental note to keep an eye on them.
"Chaebol kids," Jacob muttered with a groan. "Damn, I was hoping they wouldn't show."
I looked at Jacob. "Explain."
Jacob sighed, leaning in and lowering his voice. "Second- and third-generation heirs of Korea's biggest corporations—sons of CEOs, executives, politicians. Born into insane wealth. Never heard 'no' in their lives."
Jacob looked at me seriously. 'they are pretty much the either the love interest or the bad guys in most Korean Dramas."
I raise an eyebrow. "You watching alot of Korean Drama Jacob?'
He shrugged. "Get with the times Captain. Korean shit is all the rage."
I glanced back at the group. They stood together, laughing easily, exuding effortless confidence, as if they knew the world belonged to them.
Jacob's voice carried irritation. "Some of them are decent, but most are entitled as hell. They think everything's theirs for the taking—including people."
My eyebrow lifted. "You think they'll cause trouble?"
Jacob laughed bitterly. "Nova's here, aren't they? These guys lust after idols—especially ones at the top."
My jaw tightened slightly.
"Obsessed?" I asked.
"Worse than obsessed. It's a game. They date idols as trophies, flaunt them around, use their fame, then toss them aside when they're bored." He shook his head. "And if idols refuse them? Let's just say they don't handle rejection well. Money makes them think everything's for sale—or that they can pressure people until they fold."
I exhaled sharply, watching the group again. They looked like typical rich kids killing time before a show, but I knew better than to ignore warnings like this.
"Have they caused trouble before?" I asked.
Jacob shrugged. "Nothing officially proven. Money buries scandals. But enough rumors exist to know they're not harmless."
"Great," I muttered.
Jacob shot me a serious look. "Keep an eye on them, Carter. Especially with Ji-an around. She's hot shit right now."
I didn't visibly react, but something sharp and unwanted lodged itself in my chest.
Rich guys at events like this could go one of two ways—they could be respectful and low-key (I've met plenty of those, not all rich people are assholes) or they could entitled pricks who believed that wealth made them immune to rules.
I'd seen both.
Then my attention shifted again, back to the group. They were starting to move. Coming closer to our position. And that's when I saw her—I mean really saw her. She stood barely twenty yards away, suddenly in clear view as people parted.
Ji-an.
It shouldn't have surprised me.
I knew she was coming. Knew she was part of Nova.
But knowing didn't mean I was ready.
For a moment, I just stared.
How the hell was anyone supposed to get anything done around a woman like that?
Even in a casual outfit she was eye catching. Tall, long legs that went on forever. Dark, sleek hair shifting against her shoulders. Flawless skin, high cheekbones, full lips slightly parted as she took in her surroundings.
It wasn't just her beauty. I'd seen plenty of beautiful women.
It was the way she existed.
Like she had nothing to prove, yet could effortlessly take over the world.
I clenched my jaw, forcing myself back into work mode.
She wasn't the job.
She was just part of the job.
I had work to do.
But my initial assessment hadn't changed:
She was too pretty.
Even as I moved toward the next checkpoint, scanning for security gaps, I could still feel her presence behind me.
And when I glanced back—just once—I caught her staring.
Not at the view.
Not at the venue.
Not even at the pretty-boy VIPs already starting to swarm around her.
She wasn't looking at any of it.
She was looking… at me.
What the hell?
It was a long, steady look.
Her expression?
Annoyed.
Borderline angry.
Even from twenty yards away, I could feel it.
Wait—what?
Why was she glaring at me, of all people?
I shook my head and kept walking.
Just kept walking.
Maybe if I walked far enough, I could convince myself none of this mattered.
That she wasn't a big deal.
That she wasn't in my head.
Because she shouldn't be.
She was just another artist at another security gig.
Just another job.
Right?
***
The quiet didn't last.
I was still fuming quietly over Ji-an's irritated glare when Nate stiffened beside me, elbow nudging my ribs.
"Uh-oh," he muttered. "Trouble inbound."
I turned slowly. Heading toward us was a small group—three of those wealthy chaebol kids, swagger in full display.
I could already tell these fools were going to annoy me.
the last man, however, was different. Leading them was a tall, sharply dressed Korean guy in a tailored black suit and perfectly polished shoes. His dark hair was swept back, his face composed into careful neutrality. Unlike the others, he moved like someone who knew exactly what authority he wielded.
I recognized him instantly from the briefing files: Han Si-woo, head of Nova's personal security. A former Korean special forces officer. Reputation: ice-cold and utterly professional.
He stopped a few feet away, nodding curtly to me. "Mr. Carter."
I returned the nod calmly. "Mr. Si-woo."
His eyes flicked quickly to Nate and Jacob, clearly assessing my team before refocusing on me.
"These gentlemen," Han said smoothly, gesturing toward the wealthy young men, "are VIP guests. They've requested personal introductions with Nova."
Ahhh…now I get it.
I glanced at the trio, keeping my expression neutral. "No direct interactions before the show. That's the policy."
One of the young men laughed softly, stepping forward with an easy, practiced smile. He was tall and lean, casually stylish in designer jeans and a dark silk shirt. Everything about him—from his carefully tousled hair to the confident tilt of his chin—spoke of privilege. He extended his hand.
"Lee Min-hyuk," he introduced himself casually. "I'm sure you understand—special circumstances. My family is one of Nova's largest investors. Just a quick hello, nothing intrusive."
His eyes shifted briefly toward Ji-an, lingering with open appreciation.
Something tightened in my chest, and I fought to keep my voice even. "Sorry, Mr. Lee. No exceptions."
Min-hyuk's smile sharpened, still polite but colder. "Maybe you don't fully understand who you're dealing with—"
I took a measured step closer. "I understand perfectly. Your investment grants you premium seating and VIP access after the show. Not private meetings. Not backstage passes. And certainly not direct access to the performers before their set. These are the rules that their agency set up for the tour. No exceptions. You have a problem with it take it up with the home office."
Han Si-woo's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't intervene immediately, silently weighing my response. Min-hyuk scoffed quietly, irritation cracking through his charming façade.
"You're overstepping, Mr. Carter," he said softly. "You're just venue security. Han-ssi here handles Nova. Maybe you should let him do his job."
I met Han's gaze steadily. "If you want to speak privately about protocol, we can. But these rules aren't negotiable, and you know it. Your CEO put them in place do you want to tell him we broke his rules for his son?"
Han held my stare a long moment. Finally, he exhaled slightly, turning to Min-hyuk with measured politeness.
"Mr. Lee, Mr. Carter's right. The rules are clear. I'm sure you understand."
Min-hyuk's jaw clenched. He clearly wasn't used to being denied. His two companions shifted uncomfortably, glancing toward me like they expected me to apologize, backtrack, or bow under the weight of his name.
Not happening.
Min-hyuk's expression cooled again, arrogance returning like armor. "Understood," he said quietly. His eyes slid back toward Ji-an, still standing in the distance, before returning pointedly to me. "We'll catch up after the show, then."
The words were calm, almost friendly. But the implied threat was obvious.
He turned, strolling off with casual ease. His friends followed, leaving a tense silence hanging behind them.
Han Si-woo exhaled slowly, turning fully to face me. "Thanks Carter. You handled that firmly. Good."
I arched a brow. "You expected differently?"
Han's lips twitched faintly—an almost-smile. "No. But Min-hyuk isn't someone who takes rejection lightly. His family practically owns half of Seoul. He has influence, but cannot go against his own father. "
I held his gaze evenly. "He doesn't own The Gorge and I were are only following the rules they established. Why set rules if you aren't going to follow them yourself."
Han laughed. "And now you know the jobs dealing with rich second generations!"
Han shook his head. "Thanks for handling it. Just be aware—he has his sights set specifically on Ji-an. I don't expect him to drop this quietly."
Something sharp twisted in my chest again, but I nodded once. "Noted. Thanks for the heads-up."
Han's expression shifted briefly, a fleeting look of understanding. Then it vanished, replaced by his usual, unreadable neutrality.
"Good luck tonight," he said coolly. "Let's keep things quiet."
I gave him a short, respectful nod as he moved off to rejoin Nova's entourage. Nate and Jacob both watched him leave, their expressions tense.
Jacob muttered quietly beside me. "This job just got a whole lot more interesting."
I sighed, already anticipating the headache ahead. "Understatement of the year."
But I couldn't deny it—I was bothered. Not by Min-hyuk's entitled attitude or his money. I'd dealt with worse.
No, it was the way he'd looked at Ji-an.
Like she was something he already owned. Something he could buy.
My jaw tightened again.
Not happening.
Not tonight. Not ever.