Baek Ji-hwan's penthouse reeked of money and sex. The curtains were drawn tight, but a knife-edge of morning sun still sliced through the gloom, spotlighting where last night's party had devolved into an orgy on white leather couches and marble floors. Baek was sprawled on the biggest sectional, naked, snoring with his mouth open, limbs twitching now and then like a drunk dog in heat.

Three women lounged across from him, silk robes slipping from pale shoulders. Nora—the so-called Crypto Queen—was propped up against a pile of monogrammed pillows, legs bare and stretched out. Her hair was a wild, golden mess, and there was a cigarette dangling from her lips, but the look in her eyes was pure calculation.

On either side: Sveta, with ice-blonde hair and hacker's hands tapping at her phone, and Eva, champagne-bright, already sipping from a fresh mimosa, makeup half-smeared but not caring in the least.

"Look at him," Eva snorted, glancing at Baek's drooling, naked form. "The mighty Hanzenith CEO, passed out after what—ten minutes? I nearly fell asleep waiting for the grand finale."

Sveta didn't look up. "Six minutes, forty-two seconds. I checked the clock." Her tone was deadpan, almost bored. "The only thing grand was how small he was. He's lucky I faked it. Again."

Nora blew a thin line of smoke, lips curling. "He should've paid extra for the performance. But don't worry. We'll make it worth our while in other ways." Her phone buzzed—party photos already trending, wild captions spinning last night's carnage into viral legend. She grinned, sharp and merciless.

Eva slid closer, giggling. "What's trending? Are we famous yet? Please tell me my tits made the highlights reel."

"Better," Nora purred. "Hanzenith's golden boy, surrounded by European influencers. The crypto nerds are losing their minds. Makes it even easier for us to clean him out."

Sveta lifted her head, finally interested. "Speaking of cleaning out… I took a look at his wallet security last night." She held up her phone. "Password's '123456.' No, really. He has the private key in his cloud drive. I logged in from the bathroom while you two were sucking up to him."

Eva cackled, clinking her mimosa against Nora's glass. "To easy marks!"

Nora's eyes sparkled. "How soon can you move the funds?"

Sveta's fingers danced. "He's got geo-fencing alerts. If we do it from Korea, it'll ping his lawyers. Wait until we're in Vienna or Zurich, then empty it out. He'll blame Russian hackers, never suspect the three girls he begged to rim him last night."

Eva howled. "Oh god, he's going to shit himself. What about the jet?"

Nora grinned, predatory and poised. "I'll play the homesick act. Tears, trembling lip, maybe tell him my grandmother's sick. He'll pay for the jet and wire us a 'care package' to tide us over. I'll promise him a whole flock of Euro investors. If he thinks he's getting another taste of any of us, he's dumber than his password."

The three women erupted in laughter, cruel and glorious. Baek snorted, rolling over, exposing his ass. Nora leaned over, flicking her ash toward him.

"Let's toast to the king of fools," Sveta smirked.

"May he never learn a goddamn thing," Nora added.

"And may we never have to fake an orgasm again," Eva finished, raising her glass.

Baek shuffled in an hour later, silk boxers wrinkled, hair wild, eyes crusted red. The girls were all smiles, the perfect tableau of hungover sex kittens and devoted fans. The dining table was a grotesque overkill of food: lobster omelets, fruit towers, glistening cuts of wagyu, pastries dusted with gold leaf.

Crypto Queen patted the seat beside her. "Ji-hwan! You're up! You must be starving after last night…" Her hand lingered on his thigh, stroking with just enough pressure to keep his brain short-circuited.

Eva spoon-fed him strawberries, giggling. "You were incredible. So strong… We're still recovering."

Baek grinned, pride puffing his chest, ego swelling like a boil. "Hanzenith is throwing another event in Paris next week. You girls should come. Private villa, all VIPs. We could own the scene."

Sveta played the demure tech waif, eyes wide. "You'd take us? Even me? I'm just the nerd in the corner."

He beamed. "Of course, Sveta! You were…amazing." He fumbled for her hand. She let him, squeezing back just enough to make him shiver.

Crypto Queen leaned in, voice husky with practiced pain. "I'd love to, but—" She sighed. "My family is missing me. My mother's unwell. I promised I'd visit before I head to Paris, but flights, private arrangements…" She trailed off, eyes moist, lips trembling.

Baek was already waving away her concerns. "Nonsense. I'll send my jet. Pick up whoever you want. I'll wire you funds—anything you need. Family comes first."

Eva swooned. "He's a prince, Nora. We're so lucky."

Nora bit her lip, "Are you sure, Ji-hwan? That's so generous. I'll tell everyone in Vienna how incredible you are. I have some friends—big investors. They'd love to meet you."

Baek preened, head filling with visions of European money, high-society orgies, his name in every gossip rag.

"You girls are the future. Hanzenith will rule the world. I trust you completely."

As he retreated for a shower, the women locked eyes—and the dam broke. Sveta wheezed with laughter. "Jesus, he's a goldmine. Jet, travel cash, and the whole wallet. I almost feel bad."

Nora's smile was cruel. "Almost."

Eva topped off their mimosas, toasting: "To stupid men and their stupid money!"

The Korean BBQ joint was a cacophony of sizzle, smoke, and shrieking laughter. In a massive corner booth, the girls had already colonized half the restaurant. Harin presided like a queen, soju in one hand, tongs in the other, shouting orders.

Alina lounged beside her, shirt too tight to hide the sharp lines of rope marks across her tits. Her nipples were diamonds beneath the fabric, a silent brag. Mirae watched it all with a serene smile, but her eyes kept flicking to Yumi, who was half-buried in a pile of side dishes, cheeks pink, awed by the chaos.

Natty bounced between Korean and Thai, snapping selfies and shoving plates of meat at everyone.

As Joon-ho and Yura stepped inside, the noise crescendoed.

"HERE THEY ARE!" Harin hollered, waving her tongs like a weapon. "Our conquering heroes! Get over here, Daddy!"

Yura winced, hiding a purpling hickey behind her collar. Joon-ho strolled in, owning the stares, a half-smile pulling at his lips.

"Damn, you two look like you barely survived the night," Min-Kyung jeered, sliding in late and loud, drawing stares from three tables over. "Did you even make it to the bed, or did you just fuck in the hallway?"

Joon-ho winked. "Every surface but the ceiling, Min. We'll let you clean up next time."

Yura rolled her eyes, face burning, but she was smiling—genuinely, for once. Mirae caught her gaze, soft concern under her calm. "You okay?" she murmured.

"Fine," Yura whispered. "Happy. Sore. You know."

Alina leaned in, yanking her shirt aside. "Look! New jewelry." Her nipple rings glinted, the flesh red and swollen, proud badges of last night's depravity.

Harin howled. "Show-off! I'm posting this to the group chat!"

Alina stuck out her tongue, flipping her hair. "Only if you crop out my face. Or leave it in, whatever. Maybe I'll get scouted for a fetish shoot."

Yumi, wide-eyed, tried to keep up. "Does it…hurt? Or feel good?"

Alina grinned, all teeth. "Both. Best part is showing off. You want to try next time, Yumi?"

Yumi's blush nearly matched her hair. "Maybe? I don't know! Mirae…?"

Mirae smiled, ruffling Yumi's hair. "You don't have to do anything you don't want, Yumi. But you're braver than half the men I know, just sitting with us."

Natty held up her phone, angling for the perfect selfie. "Everyone in! Look wild!"

Soju bottles clinked, meat hissed, and stories flew—each wilder than the last.

Plates emptied, voices grew louder, the air thick with smoke and innuendo. Joon-ho and Harin squared off, swapping boasts.

"Your table looked bored half the night," Harin teased. "My crew drank the TikTok twins under the table. Ask Alina, she still can't walk straight."

Alina smirked, spreading her legs for show. "I can do more than walk, Harin. But maybe Daddy should check my jewelry—make sure it's still tight."

Joon-ho leaned closer, eyes raking her body. "Only if you promise not to cum on the table."

Min-Kyung pouted. "Daddy's getting sloppy, though. Everyone can see your work on Yura's neck. You trying to start a rumor?"

Yura shot her a glare, but Mirae squeezed her hand, subtle gratitude shining. "Thank you," she whispered to Joon-ho, "for keeping an eye on everyone. I feel safer when you're around."

He squeezed back, voice rough. "You don't need me. But I like that you want me here."

Natty and Yumi wrangled the group into more photos—some tame, some ridiculous, some that would absolutely get them blacklisted from daytime television. Plans for the next adventure flew around: spa day, karaoke, naked rooftop party. With every empty bottle, the suggestions got dirtier.

As the meal wound down, the mood shifted—just a notch. Mirae and Yura, faces turned away from the others, spoke in low, earnest voices.

"Do you ever get tired?" Yura asked, tracing a finger along her coffee cup. "Of everyone watching? Of feeling like every scar is public property?"

Mirae nodded. "I used to be. Now I'm just careful. But I'm not alone anymore. That's everything."

Yura smiled, quiet and true.

Joon-ho watched them, feeling the ache of loyalty, the pull of something deeper than lust. These women—wild, dangerous, impossible—felt like a home he'd never known. He wanted to protect them, even when he knew they didn't need it.

The group dissolved into laughter, loud enough to drown out the city outside. In that booth, they were untouchable—gods for an afternoon.

The bill arrived. Joon-ho reached for it.

"Don't you dare, Daddy," Harin shouted. "Let us pay. Or at least let us tip the waitress for pretending she didn't hear half this conversation."

Joon-ho winked, waving his card. "Sugar daddy perks. Suck it up."

The girls jeered, but let him win this round. As they gathered their things, Yura lingered, tugging Joon-ho back.

She pressed close, the rest of the world blurring out. "Thank you," she whispered. "I mean it. For…this. For making me feel like I matter. I haven't been this happy in years." Her fingers brushed the bruises on her collar. "Even if you leave marks."

He pulled her in, lips brushing her ear. "I only ever want to leave the kind you want to show off."

She laughed, a low, hungry sound. "Good answer."

They stepped outside together, city air sharp and clean, laughter from inside echoing down the street. Behind them, the world was already shifting—scandal brewing, fortunes rising and falling, knives in the dark. But for one wild, stupid, glorious day, they were untouchable.

And the world could burn for all they cared.

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