Baek Ho-rang objects to the prevalence of conglomerate romances while being exceptionally well placed to star in one. In episode three of Take Charge of My Heart, the wealthy executive hears screenwriter Na Bo-bae describe a story involving a rich heroine and her bodyguard, then dismisses its reliance on familiar material. His own succession dispute and contract-based domestic arrangement apparently qualify for an exemption. The exchange is funny because the series lets a character identify the machinery operating around him. Its confidence in that machinery remains largely intact.
Bo-bae’s position makes the joke sharper. She writes romantic fantasies while her production-company superior complains that her understanding of love is immature. The opening imagines a wealthy woman approaching a kiss with her bodyguard, then reveals Bo-bae kissing a stuffed animal.
Her imagination supplies the spectacle; her inexperience supplies the embarrassment. A drama with a woman writer as its heroine has room to examine how romantic stories are manufactured. Here, it also makes her personal romantic education part of the solution to a professional problem, an assumption worth keeping in view as the sweetness gathers.
Chae Soo-bin’s Bo-bae has avoided physical contact since a childhood lightning strike left her able to deliver electric shocks. The ability can restart a stuck elevator, yet makes holding someone’s hand hazardous. Kim Young-kwang’s Ho-rang depends on an artificial heart whose battery is failing.
Their accidental kiss, produced by schoolgirls jostling them while pursuing actor Ji Eun-ho, reveals that he can absorb contact without being shocked. Park Soo-won’s adaptation of Hae Beon’s web novel Charge Me Up gives the familiar romantic collision a practical consequence: Bo-bae can touch this man, and her electricity can keep him alive.
The contract that follows rearranges the usual rescue fantasy. Ho-rang has money, corporate authority and an expectation that problems will submit to negotiation. His offer to pay Bo-bae treats her bodily capacity as an available service. Her discomfort with being used as a charger gives that transaction some resistance. She wants access to an experience she has been denied; he needs access to her. Their needs make the bargain plausible without making it equal. His dependence unsettles his authority, although it does not remove the advantages he brings to the negotiation.
Chae makes Bo-bae’s attempts to test his immunity funny through the urgency of her curiosity. Her eagerness can seem intrusive to him, while the years behind it make contact consequential to her. That difference gives the comedy an emotional basis stronger than the electrical gimmick alone.
Kim’s initially stiff Ho-rang becomes warmer when receiving care he has not organized or purchased. The simple birthday celebration Bo-bae prepares is particularly useful: his response lets affection register outside the language of a deal. The change supports his growing receptiveness without requiring the romance to certify him as a reformed corporate patriarch.
The series gives physical proximity several meanings across the relationship. Bo-bae first approaches it as a discovery, Ho-rang turns it into medical necessity, and both eventually find reasons to stay close. His occasional use of a low-charge claim to prolong her company reveals desire awkwardly borrowing the vocabulary of need.
By episode eight, his proposal to remain together without an expiration date allows the relationship to continue beyond its original terms. The romance works because that change matters. A woman who is indispensable to a man’s survival still needs to be wanted independently of the service she provides.
Netflix’s ten-episode season permits this development to happen before the closing stretch. The arrangement arrives in episode two and cohabitation in episode three, leaving time for the couple’s expectations to change. Yet a shorter episode count does not prevent the production from stocking up on complications.
Choi Do-yoon’s succession rivalry, family marriage expectations, blackmail, kidnapping and attempted murder compete with the quieter negotiations between the leads. As the central relationship becomes warmer, the corporate material expands. The drama recognizes its clichés in conversation, then continues to give them a generous share of the schedule.
Family resentment gives the leadership dispute a relevant connection to Ho-rang’s need for control. Its escalating threats, followed by a quick resolution, offer less satisfying development than the central romance receives. Ji Eun-ho fares better when the writing lets him serve another purpose.
Played by Cha Woo-min, he can provoke jealousy without creating much uncertainty about Bo-bae’s romantic choice. His familiarity with her earlier work and encouragement of her ambitions make him valuable outside that triangle. The series gains something by allowing another man to recognize her writing without making that recognition contingent on winning her affection.
The fantasy’s charging rules introduce a separate difficulty. Proximity eventually allows energy transfer without touch, yet low-battery emergencies recur without a sufficiently clear account of the limits. Medical realism is unnecessary here; consistency would help distinguish danger from a reason to arrange another encounter. That distinction matters because the romance has invested in making closeness voluntary. When the mechanism repeatedly demands her presence, the script blurs a choice it has otherwise taken care to develop.
Bo-bae’s returning fear of hurting people gives the final stretch a firmer emotional concern. Chae allows the earlier excitement about touch to acquire the weight of possible harm. The prospect of living without that fear complicates Bo-bae’s idea of normality, rather than leaving acceptance entirely in Ho-rang’s hands. The fantasy is most attentive to her when it treats her response as something she must work through herself. Being useful to someone has relieved her isolation, but it cannot answer every question about the life she wants.
Her career keeps that question attached to the television industry the series has been gently teasing. The superior’s criticism of her romantic writing creates pressure; it does not establish that imagination requires a dating history to become legitimate. Experience can change her work without accounting for all she brings to it. Eun-ho’s recognition preserves evidence of a creative life preceding Ho-rang. Her eventual production credit makes that work publicly hers, independent of the bargain through which her body became useful to him.
Take Charge of My Heart premiered globally on Netflix on October 9, 2026. The fantasy romantic comedy series follows a corporate heir with an artificial heart who strikes an unusual deal with a woman capable of generating electricity.
Where to Watch Take Charge of My Heart Online
Full Credits
Title: Take Charge of My Heart
Distributor: Netflix
Release date: October 9, 2026
Rating: TV-MA
Running time: 59–67 minutes per episode
Director: Park Soo-won
Writers: Song Yu-chae
Cast: Kim Young-kwang, Chae Soo-bin, Cha Woo-min, Kim Ah-young, Jung Jae-kwang, Shin Do-hyun
The Review
Take Charge of My Heart
Take Charge of My Heart understands the romance formula it keeps using. Its leads make bodily dependence develop into chosen affection, while Bo-bae’s writing career preserves a life beyond keeping Ho-rang alive. Corporate escalation and uncertain charging rules interrupt that care. The series earns its sweetness through the couple, even when its surrounding machinery feels routine.
PROS
- Affection develops beyond the contract’s practical demands.
- Chae Soo-bin grounds physical comedy in years of isolation.
- Kim Young-kwang makes Ho-rang’s growing receptiveness convincing.
- Bo-bae’s authorship retains importance alongside romance.
CONS
- Corporate escalation crowds the quieter relationship drama.
- The family dispute receives a hurried resolution.
- Unclear charging rules blur necessity and voluntary closeness.
