Everyone in the city knew one golden rule: Never accept a job offer from the Kim family if it involves their youngest, Kim Sunoo.
Spoiled. Impossible. Manipulative.
Or so the rumors said.
One brat tamer was hired.
He quit after three days.
The second? Two hours.
The third? Left crying.
The fourth? Left with Sunoo’s selfie and a new contact named "bestie forever."
It became a joke in the underground circles of elite behavior specialists.
So the Kim family, desperate and embarrassed, tried something new.
Six of the best. All at once.
Heeseung, the composed leader who could charm kings.
Jay, the strict and calculating strategist with zero tolerance for disobedience.
Jake, the friendly golden retriever who believed kindness could change anyone.
Sunghoon, the ice prince who didn’t even flinch when slapped by royalty.
Jungwon, the youngest but sharpest, a master of emotional reading.
And Niki, the wildcard who didn’t follow rules but always got results.
They were dropped off at the mansion’s gates.
Their mission: tame The Kim Sunoo.
They entered his room, expecting tantrums and flying pillows.
Instead, they found him lounging on a golden couch in silk pajamas, lips pouted, eyes sparkling with mischievous curiosity.
“Oh? Six now?” Sunoo blinked slowly, twirling a spoon in his untouched strawberry parfait. “Are you here to yell, scold, or maybe pretend to be interested in my emotions?”
Heeseung stepped forward. “We’re here to help.”
Sunoo’s lips curved into a smirk. “Boring answer. Next.”
Jay crossed his arms. “Act like a brat and we’ll treat you like one.”
“I already do,” Sunoo giggled. “And they all left anyway.”
It went like that for days.
Sunoo teased, pouted, cried fake tears.
And one by one, they fell—not for his games, but for the truth behind his eyes.
Because Sunoo watched. He listened.
He knew Jay preferred coffee without sugar.
He noticed how Jungwon’s hands trembled when scolded.
He asked about Jake’s dog and remembered his name.
He gave Sunghoon a pillow with penguin patterns because “it reminded me of you.”
And then he admitted, late one night when all six sat quietly in his room, pretending not to care:
> “They only look at me when I’m loud. When I throw a tantrum. I don’t like it… but it’s the only time they stop working.”
There was silence.
Then Heeseung placed a hand over Sunoo’s.
“We’re here now.”
The six never tried to tame him after that.
Instead, they became his closest circle. His guardians. His friends. Maybe… more.
The city whispered again, but differently this time:
> “They were supposed to tame him. Instead, they became his.”
“All six? For one brat?”
“He isn’t a brat. He’s The Kim Sunoo.”
And he always would be.
While the city spun stories of tantrums and trouble, the real whispers came not from outsiders—but from within the mansion's walls.
The maids?
They smiled fondly when speaking of him.
“Sunoo always asks if we’ve eaten,” one whispered to the new tamer, Jake, as he passed by the kitchen. “He pretends to sneak food at night, but he’s really just making sure we have snacks to bring home.”
