The city never slept. Its veins pulsed with neon lights, cigarette smoke, and the faint metallic tang of blood that clung to the back alleys. Here, power was the only law, and mercy was nothing more than a myth whispered by fools.

At the very heart of this empire of shadows stood Aleksandr Volkov. Ruthless. Calculating. Untouchable. His name alone carried the weight of fear, silencing men before he ever raised his voice. Broad-shouldered in a suit that fit like armor, he ruled with precision and cruelty, every movement sharp as a blade. He was worshipped. He was hated. But above all—he was obeyed.

Yet even kings bled when struck by the right hand.

Across the city, another kind of storm brewed. Jun-ho, the sharp-tongued lawyer with a smirk that could cut as deep as his words, walked out of the courthouse into flashing cameras and a chorus of voices. He was fearless, celebrated by the media, despised by criminals. His silver tongue dismantled crime empires piece by piece, and unlike most, he didn’t fear men like Aleksandr Volkov. He challenged them. He enjoyed provoking them.

One was the law.

The other was lawless.

And fate was cruel enough to entwine their paths.

Their first meeting was no accident. In a courtroom thick with tension, Jun-ho cornered one of Aleksandr’s most loyal men with nothing but evidence and mockery. Then Aleksandr himself arrived, his presence like a storm—cold, commanding, suffocating. The room bent under his weight.

But Jun-ho didn’t.

Instead, the lawyer met his gaze—golden eyes locking with Aleksandr’s glacial blue—and smiled.

“Your empire might terrify the streets, Mr. Volkov,” Jun-ho said smoothly, each word sharpened with defiance, “but it doesn’t terrify me.”

For the first time in years, Aleksandr Volkov felt something unexpected twist in his chest. He didn’t know whether he wanted to strangle the man—or taste that smirk right off his lips.

Enemies.

Opposites.

Two forces destined to collide.

And so began a dangerous game where hate and desire would blur beyond recognition—where one man’s weakness would become the other’s greatest weapon.

Author’s Word

Dear Readers,

This story marks the beginning of my third novel, His Enemy’s Weakness. After exploring betrayal, rebirth, and fate in my earlier works, I wanted to dive into something darker, sharper, and filled with fire—the dangerous dance between two enemies who can’t resist each other.

Here, you’ll meet Aleksandr Volkov, a ruthless mafia king whose name alone strikes fear into the city, and Jun-ho, a fearless lawyer with a tongue as sharp as his mind. They are opposites in every way—law versus lawless, fire versus ice. Yet, as you’ll soon discover, their greatest weakness may be each other.

Thank you for supporting my stories and following me into this new world. I promise you tension, obsession, danger, and a love story that burns even in the shadows.

With love and anticipation,

— [Your Struggling with Mom's Phone Author]

The Seoul Central District Court buzzed with reporters, cameras flashing like lightning as another high-profile trial gripped the city. The defendant was no ordinary businessman. He was rumored to have ties to the Russian mafia, yet today he sat behind polished mahogany tables, expression calm, dressed in an immaculately tailored suit.

And at the other end of the courtroom, the prosecution’s star witness—Kim Jun-ho.

Every lawyer in Seoul knew his name. Sassy, sharp, and untouchable, Jun-ho had earned his reputation as the one defense lawyer who could twist a noose into a crown. When he stood, adjusting his navy silk tie with deliberate elegance, the crowd hushed.

“Your Honor,” Jun-ho began, his voice smooth as velvet yet edged like a blade, “the prosecution wishes to paint my client as a criminal mastermind. But if having dinner with wealthy friends is a crime, then perhaps half this city should be on trial.”

A ripple of laughter spread across the room, quickly silenced by the judge’s gavel.

From the gallery, a man watched intently. Broad-shouldered, ice-veined, Aleksandr Volkov radiated a presence that turned heads without effort. He wasn’t supposed to be here—not openly—but the Russian mafia boss had come to see for himself the lawyer who dared to drag one of his men back into the light.

Jun-ho’s arguments were merciless. He tore holes in the prosecutor’s witnesses, one by one, weaving logic and mockery in equal measure. His closing statement was less defense, more theater.

“And so,” Jun-ho finished, bowing slightly, “unless this court has decided to criminalize association, my client is guilty of nothing more than a bad choice in dinner companions.”

The gavel came down. “Case dismissed.”

Chaos erupted—reporters shouting questions, prosecutors cursing under their breath. Jun-ho only smirked, sliding papers into his briefcase as if winning were routine. His polished shoes clicked against marble as he exited the courtroom, a predator who had just fed.

Outside, the flashbulbs followed him. “Attorney Kim, how do you respond to allegations you defend criminals?”

Jun-ho paused just long enough for every microphone to stretch toward him. His lips curved. “If the law is blind, then I am simply her voice. Whether criminals or saints, everyone deserves defense.”

He walked away before they could press further, satisfied with the way the words would headline.

But as he reached the steps, a shadow blocked his path. Tall, commanding, with sharp hazel eyes that gleamed like a blade in winter—Aleksandr Volkov.

The crowd hushed, sensing danger.

Jun-ho raised a brow, unflinching. “Ah. The infamous ghost of Moscow. Shouldn’t you be more careful? Public appearances tend to end badly for men like you.”

Aleksandr’s lips barely curved, his voice a low growl. “You’re clever. Too clever. You win today, lawyer. But you’ve just stepped into my world.”

Jun-ho leaned in slightly, his smirk wicked. “Your world? No, Aleksandr Volkov. The moment you needed a lawyer’s courtroom to settle your business… you stepped into mine.”

For a moment, silence. Two predators measuring each other, tension sharp as a drawn wire.

Then Aleksandr chuckled, low and dangerous, before stepping aside. “We’ll meet again, Kim Jun-ho.”

Jun-ho didn’t break stride, his coat flicking in the wind as he descended the steps. Yet beneath his calm exterior, his pulse thrummed with something unfamiliar.

He’d faced prosecutors, judges, corporate giants. But Aleksandr Volkov?

That man looked at him not as prey.

But as a challenge.

MC (Main Character – Korean Lawyer)

Name: Kim Jun-ho (서준호)

Age: 27

Occupation: Criminal Defense Lawyer

Appearance:

Sharp, tailored suits that scream confidence.

Jet-black hair, slightly tousled when stressed.

Piercing dark brown eyes, alive with wit and defiance.

Slim, athletic build — elegance over brute force.

Personality:

Sassy, witty, sharp-tongued; words are his deadliest weapon.

Strong moral compass, but not naïve—he knows exactly how dirty the world is.

Fiercely independent, hates being controlled (which makes his dynamic with Aleksandr deliciously combustible).

Flirts when it suits him, but sarcasm is his sharpest blade.

Background:

Raised in a middle-class family; clawed his way up through sheer determination.

Specializes in criminal law, often defending clients others won’t touch.

Secretly despises the mafia, but doesn’t realize how deep their reach runs—until he clashes with Aleksandr Volkov.

Weakness:

Hides his loneliness behind pride and wit.

Too stubborn to ask for help, even when danger closes in.

The trial was over, but the echo of victory still clung to the marble halls. Reporters swarmed the courthouse steps, chasing Kim Jun-ho’s retreating figure like moths to flame. He played the crowd effortlessly, each smirk and sharp retort feeding their fascination.

But Jun-ho knew eyes were still on him. Heavy. Calculated. Not the gaze of gossip-hungry journalists, but of someone far more dangerous.

He wasn’t wrong.

When he slid into the underground parking lot, away from flashing cameras, the air shifted. The sound of footsteps echoed off the concrete, slow, deliberate, predatory. Jun-ho didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

Aleksandr Volkov.

The mafia kingpin walked out of the shadows, his tailored black suit immaculate despite the cold Seoul night. A faint scar traced along his jawline, half-hidden by stubble, making his already sharp features even more ruthless. His hazel eyes gleamed with a wolfish intensity, and when he spoke, his Russian-accented Korean was low and controlled.

“You enjoy playing with fire, don’t you, lawyer?”

Jun-ho turned, leaning casually against his sleek black car, one hand in his pocket. His lips curved in a slow, mocking smile. “Better than choking on smoke. What’s the matter, Aleksandr? Upset that your little courtroom puppet couldn’t dance to the prosecution’s tune?”

Aleksandr’s steps echoed as he closed the distance, stopping only a breath away. He was taller, broader, radiating the kind of lethal aura that made most men crumble. But Jun-ho’s gaze didn’t waver.

“You think clever words will protect you?” Aleksandr murmured, tilting his head slightly. “Seoul isn’t safe for men who make enemies out of me.”

Jun-ho chuckled, soft but sharp, like a blade sliding free of its sheath. “Enemies? Don’t flatter yourself. To be my enemy, you’d have to matter. Right now, you’re just… entertainment.”

The sheer audacity of it cracked Aleksandr’s calm for a second. His jaw clenched, and his hand shot out, pinning Jun-ho against the car door with a thud. The force was enough to make most men tremble. Jun-ho only arched a brow.

“So dramatic,” he drawled. “Do all Russians confuse intimidation with flirting? Or is this just your way of saying hello?”

A dangerous glint sparked in Aleksandr’s eyes. He leaned closer, his breath brushing Jun-ho’s ear. “Careful, lawyer. One wrong word, and you won’t leave this garage alive.”

Jun-ho smirked, unshaken. “And yet, here I stand. Breathing. Mocking you to your face. Which tells me something important…” He tilted his chin up, crimson tie brushing Aleksandr’s chest. “You won’t kill me. Not because you can’t, but because you don’t want to.”

Aleksandr stilled, his grip tightening unconsciously. Jun-ho’s words were like poison wrapped in silk, sinking under his skin.

“You’re arrogant,” Aleksandr said finally, his voice dark with restrained anger.

“No,” Jun-ho corrected smoothly, eyes glittering with defiance. “I’m right. That’s what bothers you.”

The tension between them thickened, dangerous and electric. Aleksandr could feel the steady beat of Jun-ho’s pulse beneath his grip—calm, unafraid, infuriatingly steady.

At last, Aleksandr released him, stepping back, his expression once more unreadable. He adjusted his cufflinks, as if nothing had happened. “Enjoy your victories while you can, Kim Jun-ho. The higher you climb, the harder you fall.”

Jun-ho dusted an imaginary speck from his shoulder, smirking as he opened his car door. “Oh, Aleksandr… I don’t fall. I make others trip.”

The engine purred to life as Jun-ho slid into the driver’s seat. He spared the mafia boss one last glance, eyes glinting with amused challenge. “Next time you want my attention, Volkov, try making an appointment. I don’t offer free consultations.”

The car pulled out, taillights disappearing into the night.

Aleksandr remained in the dim garage, hands clasped behind his back, expression cold. And yet, beneath that icy exterior, something unfamiliar twisted in his chest.

Not just anger.

Fascination.

Kim Jun-ho was no ordinary opponent. He was a flame that refused to be snuffed out.

And Aleksandr Volkov was a man who had never been able to resist fire.

ML (Male Lead – Russian Mafia Boss)

Name: Aleksandr Volkov (Александр Волков)

Age: 32

Occupation: Head of the Volkov Mafia Syndicate

Appearance:

Towering at 6’3”, broad-shouldered, commanding.

Silver-blonde hair, usually slicked back with ruthless precision.

Icy blue eyes that cut through lies—and freeze souls.

Always draped in expensive designer suits that exude lethal sophistication.

Personality:

Cold, ruthless, and merciless in public. A man others fear to even look in the eye.

Privately: possessive, dangerously protective, and—against his own nature—capable of tenderness when it comes to Jun-ho.

Strategic and calculating; every move is deliberate.

Consumed by jealousy when it comes to Jun-ho. Aleksandr does not share.

Background:

Born into the Volkov mafia; inherited the empire after his father’s death.

Nicknamed the Ice King for his brutal yet controlled way of breaking enemies.

Desired, feared, untouchable. But his empire is a cage as much as a throne.

Weakness:

Suffers from deep trust issues; believes betrayal is inevitable.

Obsession—when Aleksandr sets his sights on someone, escape becomes impossible.