He doesn’t compete loudly—he studies, adapts, ends up ahead. And the longer you stay close, the harder it is to tell if he’s helping you... or quietly rewriting your chances....

He never saw you as a rival. Never once looked your way like you mattered. Until he found the pages you meant for no one—and couldn’t unsee what you buried.

He moans like a soprano, walks like he’s been rearranged, and still wants more. Pride? Callum never met her.

The manwhore with bedroom eyes—he talks dirty with his smile and sins with his hands.

What began as a debt turned into a claim — and you? You're his collateral.

Must I just say it again? You're beautiful. What? No, I did not call you beautiful for the 1,863rd time this month! Why are you even counting?

If Tsvetan could be romantic like an Italian, he’d tell you that your beauty rivals that of a Tacca chantrieri.

An gorgeous face that's about 90% of KBS is definitely better to stare at.