Logan
The second the meeting ended, I stepped out of the cramped security office and into the hallway, inhaling deep.
I needed a minute.
Just one damn minute.
Because whatever the hell just happened in there?
That wasn't normal.
I had worked security for celebrities before. I did security for several years before joining the Marines. Actors, musicians, VIPs, politicians—people who thought the world revolved around them. I had seen egos, seen the way people walked into a room expecting attention.
But Ji-an?
Ji-an didn't have to expect attention.
She commanded it.
Just by standing there.
And she knew it.
She'd taken her time getting ready for that briefing. I wasn't blind. I noticed the way the other members of Nova had done their usual stage prep—getting their hair and makeup done, throwing on stylish but comfortable outfits.
And then there was Ji-an.
The woman was out of control.
She walked into that briefing like she owned the damn place—fitted black blazer over a cropped top that barely skimmed her ribs, long legs wrapped in sleek, high-waisted pants that made her look taller than she already was. Her hair was dark, glossy, perfectly styled—not effortless, but designed.
And her eyes?
Sharp. Lined just enough to be dangerous.
She was flawless in a way that shouldn't have been possible.
A woman like that shouldn't have existed in real life.
But she did.
And she was staring at me the entire damn time like I owed her money or murdered her puppy.
Not just looking. Watching.
Like she was waiting for me to react.
And I had.
Not outwardly. I am a professional, dammit. But inwardly? The second she started talking, my brain had short-circuited for half a second.
Because she hadn't just pushed me—she'd tested me.
And I had pushed back.
And then, for some stupid reason, I'd opened my damn mouth.
"Because I'd be surprised if anyone could fully focus in your presence."
That was what I had said.
Jesus and almighty Joseph, who talks like that? Why do I seem to stick my foot in my mouth every time I get around this woman?
I exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of my neck.
Ji-an was used to being admired, to being wanted. She had that lethal combination of power, beauty, and awareness of both. She was the kind of woman who could make a man lose his footing, his sense, and maybe even his damn dignity.
And I had given her exactly what she wanted.
Recognition.
Attention.
Hell, I had practically handed her a loaded weapon and dared her to use it on me.
But none of that mattered.
She wasn't my job.
Keeping her safe was.
I was about to push all of this out of my head and head toward the main staging area when a familiar voice broke through my thoughts.
"Logan. We got a problem."
I turned to see Mark, one of my senior security officers, jogging up the hallway, his expression tight.
Immediately, my brain shifted.
Business mode.
"Talk to me," I said.
"Things are getting weird. Obsessed fans." Mark exhaled. "We caught two guys trying to sneak past the barricades into the VIP section. They had fake credentials, but that's not the part that worries me."
I frowned. "What does?"
Mark lowered his voice.
"We've been using that new AI program to monitor some of the online chatter in private fan groups. At first, it was the usual obsessive talk—stuff about getting close to the group, people bragging about sneaking into restricted areas. But there's one account that's been escalating."
My entire body tensed.
"Escalating how?"
Mark looked grim. "Threats. Weird ones."
That word hit like a rock in my gut.
"Not the usual 'I love you so much I want to breathe your air' kind of crazy," Mark continued. "This one's talking about making sure the purity of her sainthood remains undiminished."
Damn. A possessive. A weird one at that.
My stomach turned.
I'd seen this before.
There were different kinds of obsessed fans—the delusional ones who thought they were in a relationship with the celebrity, the ones who just wanted attention, the ones who crossed personal boundaries.
And then there were the possessives.
The ones who thought they owned the person.
The ones who got violent when reality didn't match the fantasy.
"How serious are we talking?" I asked, my voice tight.
Mark exhaled. "Could be nothing. Just another idiot talking big behind a screen. But the language is getting worse and freaking weird. And the two guys we caught outside? One of them follows that account."
My jaw clenched.
This wasn't just another concert.
This was a target.
I turned, my gaze sweeping toward the far end of the venue where the private dressing rooms were.
Where Ji-an was.
I was still frustrated with her, still irritated by whatever game she was playing, but none of that mattered.
Because none of it would mean a damn thing if I couldn't keep her safe.
"This guy have a name?" I asked.
"We're still digging," Mark said. "The account's been wiped clean a few times, but we're tracking the IP."
Before I could respond, another voice cut in.
"We are aware of the threat, and we already have a plan for that."
I turned to find Han Si-woo standing there, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
Mark hesitated, then glanced at me before stepping back.
Si-woo exhaled. "You're worried. So am I."
I studied him. "How much do you know?"
"Enough," he said. "We've been tracking similar patterns across Korea, Japan, and Thailand. This isn't an isolated incident. Thus far, it's been all talk."
Of course they had.
I narrowed my eyes. "Then you already know what needs to happen."
Si-woo's jaw tightened. "Yes. Which is why I'm staying with the girls."
I frowned. "You personally?"
"They are my responsibility," Si-woo said simply. "I won't trust this to anyone else."
I studied him. "What aren't you telling me?"
He sighed. "You're way too young to be this sharp."
He looked at me cautiously. "We had an incident last year with one of our guards letting a VIP slip into a private space. They had some bad stuff planned for Ji-an and Jisoo. That's when we first found out about this group. They call themselves the Brotherhood. We were able to intercept, but it was close. The girls don't know anything about it."
"Ahh," I said. "Hence the rule for the female guard. You're trying to limit access to additional help."
He nodded. "Something like that. I know it's not a long-term solution, but the Nova hysteria is beyond even BTS and Blackpink. They're going into the record books. We have to keep them safe. Our national pride is on the line."
National pride. Okay, that seemed a bit over the top, but what do I know?
A flicker of something settled in my gut.
I nodded slowly. "Alright. But that means I run everything else. Perimeter, barricades, VIP crowd control, and your backups."
Si-woo held my gaze for a long moment. Then he nodded.
"Fine."
There was an understanding between us.
I wouldn't fight him on this.
But when shit went down?
It wasn't going to be up to him.
Because if anyone got close to Ji-an, Si-woo wasn't going to be enough.
And I had a bad feeling that moment was coming.
Soon.