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Vendetta

► 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 - dilf!Hongjoong x fem!reader ◄ ► 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎/𝙰𝚄 - mafia au, arranged marriage trope, secret/hidden marriage, slow burn, heavy angst, emotionally heavy, revenge, emotional rollercoaster, power imbalance, age gap (reader is in her early 30s and Joong is in his mid-40s), reader! is resigned to her fate but not for long, enemies-to-lovers, plot twist◄ ► 𝚁𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐/𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 - PG-18+ so MDNI!!! depression as in reader! has almost given up on life, implied familial abuse (not described, but be warned!), implied violence, minor car accident, minor descriptions of near death experience, generalized dark themes, eventual smut (short though) lots of kissing, couch riding, creampie, emotional and possessive sex, no protection (do not do this!) ◄ ► 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 33.5K words (hear me out---) ◄ ► 𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 - After your uncle sold you to the mafia to settle a debt, you were forced into an arranged marriage with the controlling Kim Hongjoong and you expected nothing more than a life of silence and control. He was much older than you, much more calculated and cold, and you had no doubt that he was devoid of light. He'd be displeased to know that you have a backbone, however, but what happens when his dark secrets that could potentially ruin your life slowly unravel when the wolves come out to play? You realize that the secrets he held dear were deeper than you thought, and there was no way out. ◄ ► 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 - I am sorry that it took this long. I was sick for weeks and had no energy to write. I am also sorry it's this long, but I don't regret it. This was a request from the lovely @midnightreader-06 (she's an adult.) I will be fulfilling the other requests I have soon. ◄ ► 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 - @0rangemilk @ginger-mingi @ruubyrubes @oddracha @jaytheatiny @roxannecos @juicy-red @cheolliehugs @sunnysidesins @jjongbearshoney @midnightrebel1028 @mallielovssyou @jenluvzen ◄

You were ten years old when you held both of your parents hand as the three of you walked side by side in an open field where the vastness of the green Earth was there for the taking as far as the eye could see.

As your dearest father, whose eyes shone with adoration and his lips split with the fondest of grins, carried you in his arms to point at the bright, blue sky, your innocence and naivety paved way for the natural curiosity that lay hidden in your young mind.

“You, my darling,” your mother lovingly booped your button nose. “You are the prettiest, far more special than anything in this world, and I love you.”

The world felt impossibly vast, and yet in that moment, wrapped in the safety of your parents’ love, it felt perfectly sized to hold just the three of you. Truly, you were loved by your parents. It was the kind of love that would transcend even through the afterlife. Until they didn’t.

You were sixteen years old when you stood under the pouring rain that blessed your parents’ grave, your head down low as your expressionless face stared at the freshly dug soil under your feet. There was blackness all around you - black for the weeping sky, black for the clothes you wore around your frail, shivering body that symbolized your mourning and loss.

Black for the two coffins you had watched sink into the ground, swallowed by the earth as if it could somehow keep your parents safe when you no longer could, black for the words no one could say, black for the warning signals in your head as you were led away from the cemetery.

Everything was black. You were far too young for such a travesty, but since when has this life been fair to anybody? Your parents’ death has definitely taught you better.

The hours stopped flowing, the sands of time floating inside the hourglass in a perpetual cycle of your memories where the images of your parents were slowly disappearing, refusing to flow - refusing to let you move on.

You are the prettiest, far more special than anything in this world, and I love you.

“You call that clean? I could lick the damn thing and get road dust in my teeth!”

Your uncle, your mother’s older brother, barked from the doorway, snapping you out of your memories. His loud, displeasing voice echoed down the garage hallway far before you even laid your eyes on him.

You closed your eyes, taking the deepest breath you could possibly take from the deepest chambers of your lungs. Not that there was anything left, you were a walking entity of nothingness at this point, but you had to remain calm like you had learned to be - like you had to be.

Your uncle stepped into the garage, shoes clicking against the polished tile floor most mechanics would kill for. “That’s your problem. Always doing the bare minimum. You’re useless just like your mother.”

There it was. He didn’t have to mention her often like the mere thought of her slowly decayed his tongue inside his sinful mouth. He didn’t outwardly curse her name, it was just enough to let you know he still thought of you like you were a charity case; a stain on the marble floors of his pristine world.

You tried not to gasp out loud when he titled your chin up roughly. His calloused fingers burned every single hair strand on your face, his eyes could have disintegrated you on the spot with all the unspoken hate you knew he had for you but refused to speak out, but you had to remain calm.

He harrumphed, turning around and beginning to walk off to where he came from, but not before spitting up an unholy amount of saliva on the floor with an obscene smirk on his clean shaven face. “Clean it up,” was all he said.

Through gritted teeth, you had begun wiping the floor, and as the water began to wash away all the grime your pig of an uncle had left, you hadn’t realized that your tears had begun to mix itself in the water like it would rinse away all your troubles.

It was like you were sixteen again. You still remember the day like it was yesterday when he led you to his car away from the cemetery, all without a single word of comfort or condolences at the dearly departed. Never mind your father, but your mother was his younger sister. You were not surprised at the sight of his massive mansion - your family did come from old money - but the moment you stepped through it, you saw the facade quickly. You weren’t there as family, but as a liability. All of this was just for show, not for your comfort.

He walked ahead of you, not bothering to see if you were following him. There was no warmth in his voice, just clipped efficiency, like he was giving instructions to a driver. There was no welcome. No open arms. No kind words. Your room was barely one. A cot, no sheets. A single window so cloudy with grime it looked like frosted glass. Little did you know, it would be your room for no less than a decade - a decade long of hell reincarnate on an already scorching Earth.

Sometimes he didn’t call for food, most of the time he called to yell. Once, for leaving a cup turned the wrong way in the sink, he threw it at the wall and told you your parents would’ve done the same if they’d had the guts.

It didn’t stop the bruises, but your perseverance helped you survive the nights. No one came looking for you. No one asked how you were.

You were nineteen years old when you started finally accepting that this was your world. You were reduced to moping spit off of the floor, and after another four years of slaving away and just taking all the burnt end of your uncle’s anger, he decided to finally send you into college. You wanted to scoff, but you will take anything that you could get - anything to get even a sliver of your identity back. He wasn’t doing this for you, you knew he’d use you for free labour after.

“You owe me,” he said, sliding the acceptance letter toward me. “You remember that. Everything you have is because I kept you fed.”

Fed. You saw red. He never mentioned you’d earned every damn underfed crumb like an inbred. But you nodded, anyway, because even a dog learns how to slip the chain if it’s given enough time to watch the master.

And you waited, day by day, for someone to remember you existed, but the ones you longed for were the ones you knew were in heaven by now. And you hoped they weren’t looking down on you.

The last thing you remembered was coming home from your graduation party with a couple of your friends from the restaurant, but the panicked yet controlled voices of the doctors and nurses surrounding you had you concurring that you were in the hospital.

You want to move, but your limbs won’t listen. You want to ask for your parents, but their names get caught in your throat. That sent a magnanimous amount of pain far worse than you were feeling right now down in the middle of your chest where your heart laid. They were gone, and you were soon to follow.

The first tear that fell from your eyes felt like glass shards. You didn’t know how to tell your parents that you had failed them. You were only twenty-eight, and your short life was slowly slipping away from you. You could feel it.

I don’t want to die. I’m much too young to fall.

But hope was bleak. You didn’t doubt that your uncle was already aware of the car accident you were involved in, and you didn’t doubt that he was happy about it. It would be good riddance for him, there was no way he would pay for your surgeries. You were alone, utterly alone. The thought of dying alone hurt more than you’d like it to be.

Until a warm hand wrapped itself around yours. It was big, rough, and warm. You were too weak to open your eyes, but you mentally thanked the kind nurse who comforted you in your time of need. Or more likely, it was one of your college friends, namely, your close friend Yeosang. He was much younger than you, only being a freshman while you were eight years his senior.

You volunteered as a substitute teacher in your spare time for high school students as a part of your program, and Yeosang offered to be your intern. You were the one to write him his recommendation letter to get into your college last year. You quickly became fond of the kid with the siren eyes who squeezed his way into your heart, who still admired you as his mentor and still stuck by you even after his high school.

He was the only regret in your short life. There were times you dismissed him since you were far from his age and you wanted him to spend time with other people. You wish you had more opportunities to tell him that you cherished the little moments of peace he gave you, and to thank him for letting you know what it was like to care for someone when nobody cared about you.

Time passed. It could’ve been minutes, it could’ve been hours, but the hand remained, covering yours in a soothing cocoon, a salve to your aching and hurting heart.

It was just a hand, but it provided you the strength you needed. You might hate your uncle, but if it wasn’t for him sending you to college, this hand wouldn’t be here, helping you sign your own paperwork since you had no family. It must have been a pitiful sight - your soul was nearly gone yet you had to sign your own hospital papers.

Sometimes it would squeeze gently like it needed to be sure you were still holding on as you slipped in and out of consciousness, and you started clinging to it like it was the only real thing in the world.

Because, maybe it was. No one else came - not your uncle, and not the world you thought would notice if you ceased to exist prematurely before you even turned your life around, but the hand stayed.

Against your will, you stood before your own reflection. You always thought you had the prettiest of hazel-hued eyes - you had gotten them from your father, after all - but the hollowness of them scared even yourself.

“Y/N! Come downstairs, or I’m leaving you to walk yourself all the way to the Kim estate!”

You flinched, your fingers pausing from examining the thick concealer you splattered all over your neck to cover your uncle’s purple fingertips. You were still unsure if surviving was a blessing or a curse.

After getting back from the hospital, he had appointed you to fix his business paperworks - all without pay, of course - and he kept you locked away from the world.

Except when it was time to remind you of your place, to remind you of his power. You were thirty-two when he finally decided to get rid of you and sell you off as collateral for his failing business to a man far older than you, because if he didn’t, the business won’t be the only thing your uncle would be losing.

“He’s your last chance,” he reiterated, voice low and full of threat. “You marry him, or you’re done here. I’ll have you on a flight by morning stripped of every cent, every roof, every name. I made a deal, and you’re the damn collateral. Don’t make me waste you.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d threatened to erase you from your own life. But this time, it felt final. “Your face is your saving grace,” he continued arrogantly. “Luckily for you, you inherited your whore of a mother’s pretty face. With luck, that bastard Kim Hongjoong might take a liking to you.”

You tuned out the way he cursed out the said man’s name with words you couldn’t even repeat, focusing on the way your fists clenched tight to control your breathing.

Kim Hongjoong, you thought. That was your future husband’s name, the man who would either be your salvation or be the one to push you into a deeper hell. You’ve given up on the aspect of marrying for love, but still, giving it up like this feels like a punch to your gut.

But there was no way around it, not when your uncle sent you a seething glare that told you that you needed to play along as he forced your arm to link with his as you were both escorted inside the huge mansion that screamed of wealth and dirty money by the stiff-postured butler.

“I welcome you to the Kim estate, you may address me as San,” the cat-eyed butler bowed respectfully before you and your uncle, gesturing forward as he walked on. “I do apologize if I’m the only one to extend the greetings for now, all of our staff is preparing for the bride-to-be.”

He sent you a polite smile, but all you felt was dread. “Shall I make it up and invite you to the dining room? The Master awaits the both of you.”

Your uncle’s fake, booming laughter fills the grandiose dining room. Every inch of this manor screamed of wealth and power, the chandeliers above casting a soft glow down the glossy marble floors, the ornate walls lined with ancestral tapestry partnered with vintage vases.

But none of it reached you, none of it mattered because none of this was for you. As slimy as your uncle was, the fact that this man was even agreeing to the prospect of marrying to settle a debt perturbed you.

You couldn’t help but let your fingers trail along the back of a carved dining chair as you entered the main dining room. Everything looked expensive, it reminded you of your mother who had the finer tastes in life when she was still among the living.

But it was when you looked up that your breath had truly gotten caught in your throat. Somebody was already looking at you, he was already staring at you. Even before you were introduced, you knew in your heart that this was the infamous Kim Hongjoong.

He was seated at the far end of the impossibly long dining table, his sharp eyes already watching your every move. The second your eyes met his, the air shifted, and you froze. All that existed was the intensity of his gaze. For a moment, everything disappeared. It was just you and him. You didn’t know how to feel about it.

Your pulse thudded in your ears as you allowed yourself to stare back. You didn’t even need more than a couple of seconds, it was very obvious from the first glance that this man was undeniably attractive. It was almost devastatingly so.

His face was chiseled to perfection, all without the soft curves of a boy, he held the sharp angles that only belonged to a man of his age. That particular age suited him and you could tell he was years above you, his meticulously styled hair already sporting a couple of whites and greys

But it wasn’t his looks that immediately captivated you, it was his eyes. The way they stared at you heavily as though he was an all-seeing being that could read your every thought and predict your every move. He didn’t smile, he didn’t blink, he didn’t look away - he just observed. Something in your chest twisted. Your instinct told you to look away, to hide, but you stayed uprooted from where you stood. His stare left you unable to do anything else.

But you had to eventually. Your uncle cut the obvious tension with a small, nervous laugh as he nudged you subtly. “Mr. Kim, it’s an honour and pleasure to be in your presence in this fine evening,” he tried to suck up, though you can tell his bravado was nowhere to be seen in front of a person who was obviously greater than he was.

You forced yourself forward, one step towards the other, graciously sitting down on the chair that San the butler had so generously pulled out for you. As you tried to settle comfortably, you looked up again, only to realize that Hongjoong still hasn’t looked away from you, only giving out a small grunt in response to your uncle’s poor attempt to start a conversation.

You would turn and stare at the way you knew your uncle’s face would turn red in embarrassment and anger at being snubbed, but Hongjoong’s eyes had once again held you captive.

Someone cleared their throat purposefully. Right. You didn’t even realize that there were other people seated towards the end of the table. You couldn’t even afford to be embarrassed for being the other end of the tension.

“You’re staring,” the voice, surprisingly rough and deep, said. It was more of a whisper, but the silence was so loud in the room that anything could be heard.

Hongjoong didn’t answer right away. He simply tilted his head, just slightly. Still watching you with those dark eyes. Then, calmly, still without glancing at anyone else, he replied, “Am I?”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement in disguise, a graceful way of telling the other person off. It made the hair rise on the back of your neck. You heard an exasperated sigh somewhere.

Even when dinner was served and the conversation around you flowed naturally amongst the other guests deemed important enough to be here, you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable. You barely heard their voices. You knew he was still watching you from time to time.

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you kept your posture stiff, trying to maintain some semblance of control. Your hands, however, clenched your utensils so tight, you wouldn’t be surprised if they bent from the pressure. You couldn’t stop the tremor that ran through you from all the weight of his eyes.

At first you thought it was fear, but no, this was something else entirely. It wasn’t flattering, it wasn’t lustful, it wasn’t romantic - this was unnerving, darkness at its purest form.

“Y/N, my dearest niece,” your uncle’s voice suddenly broke through your haze, effectively catching everyone’s attention as well. “I trust that you’re enjoying dinner?”

You swallowed, already reading between the lines. He was basically asking you to look alive, a silent threat. You forced a small smile, nodding in effect. “Yes,” you said softly. “It’s quite wonderful.”

An unreadable flicker crosses Hongjoong’s face as he leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the table. Somehow, that made him look more intimidating than he already was. He tilted his head, his gaze sharpened, but his body stayed relaxed. It was the posture of someone who knew he was on top of the food chain.

“Great,” your uncle cleared his throat. “I suppose it’s about time to get down to the nitty-gritty of this dinner. Let’s talk business, gentlemen.”

A saddened frown settles itself on your lips. Right, you had forgotten that this was just business for him at the end of the day. You had somehow forgotten that you were treated less than human, a little more akin to produce being sold off to a wanting consumer.

“There’s no need to drag this out,” your uncle continued, failing to read the room. Even you knew that he was in no position to call the shots like he was doing currently. “She’s all yours, for all intents and purposes.”

You looked down, shame and mortification filling your entire body, gripping your dress tightly in your fists. The implication of what that meant horrified you, given that you were the only woman in the room, surrounded by men who immediately understood the sexual insinuation of the statement.

Thick silence followed as everybody waited for Hongjoong to speak. His posture shifted ever so slightly from your peripheral vision as he started to open his mouth to reply. “I’m not here for that,” he said flatly.

The words were quiet, but they carried more force than your uncle’s screaming. The older man let out a nervous laughter, brushing it off. “Of course, still, it’s a part of the arrangement.”

Hongjoong’s expression didn’t change. “I heard you the first time.”

Your knuckles turned white from how hard you were gripping. His voice struck something in you, sending a zing through your body from your toes all the way to your scalp. His gaze, his voice, his complete control over the room; it was all too much. You hated the way it made your stomach turn into itself.

But your uncle’s ego rendered him unable to stop because he always wanted to be the one in control. “She turned out decent, though mostly useless. It could be changed,” he said, degrading your dignity further down to the ground. “She’s an obedient little thing, knows how to close her trap when prompted.”

You froze, as did everybody. You didn’t need to look around the table to know the weight of every eye. It was a different type of humiliation you had to endure, but you didn’t say anything. Years of training had taught you to just take all of his words in without flinching.

For the first time that night, Hongjoong looked away from you. His stare shifted, slow and deliberate, settling on your uncle who chuckled nervously, but also unable to look away from Hongjoong like you did.

It was his turn to be stared at, you could already tell that your uncle was starting to crack under the pressure of that silent, unnerving stare.

Then as if to rub salt on his wounds, Hongjoong let a small smile curl at the corner of his mouth. It wasn’t directed towards you, but it sent nasty goosebumps all over your skin. It was nothing short of sinister.

“How compelling,” he drawled out, leaning forward to grab his wine glass, swirling its contents leisurely before he set his dark eyes back towards your uncle. “Though I don’t recall ever asking.”

Your uncle stiffened, but Hongjoong continued, his voice controlled, and flat. “And if I ever find myself wondering, I’ll be sure to consult someone who’s managed to keep his life longer than selling their nieces to the mafia to save their skin.” Your legs felt suddenly too weak, your numb fingers loosening their tight hold on your dress. The mafia. Your uncle was selling you out to the mafia. The word itself echoed through your mind, a jagged, inescapable truth. Fear, raw and electric, lit up inside you.

Though, an undeniable satisfaction flowed through you at the prospect of your smug uncle finally being put in his place. He opened his big mouth to try and retort back, but Hongjoong didn’t give him the chance.

He sets his wine glass back down, lightly tapping on it with a butter knife. “More,” was all he said. It was just one command, but if you were standing, it would have brought you down to your knees. It was the end of the conversation, all because he said so without actually saying it. There were no more words needed to be said, the message had been delivered. He turned his gaze somewhere else, not looking back at you. There was no need to.

This entire room knew who held the leash, and it was the man you were set to marry sooner than later. The room had been entirely claimed by him the moment he opened his mouth.

Dinner was an awkward affair. The conversation between everyone was never really the same afterwards, but you didn’t care, you tuned them all out, even when you could finally breathe because Hongjoong never looked your way again, partaking in a conversation with the man nearest to him, the same man with the deep voice who called him out for staring at you.

It was every man for themselves at this very table, that much you could tell. Every clink of cutlery made you flinch, every swallow constricting your throat, every smoke coming out of your uncle’s ears petrifying you, his words still ringing in your head the entire time as you tried to eat.

Marry this man or face the consequences, but at what cost? You were damned if you did, and damned if you didn’t. There would be no ending where you wouldn’t end up bleeding. Hongjoong terrified you. It was the type of fear that settled itself deep in your bones. He hasn’t even risen from his seat, yet he’s managed to get under your skin far more than your uncle has in more than a decade.

This was a man who ruled in power. There was something in the way he sat, all composed and relaxed. He had nothing to prove, let alone raise his voice. He simply held everyone’s breath in his palms. One squeeze was all it took.

You didn’t realize you’d been staring until Hongjoong’s sharp eyes met yours briefly once more. He looked at your uncle, back at you, then back at the man who was talking to him. You had made your decision then. Anything was better than being your uncle’s property.

By the end of the week, all of your belongings were packed in a small suitcase, ready to be transported to the Kim estate. Not that you needed to pack a lot, there was no single thing that you truly owned.

The manor was just as breathtaking as it was the last time you saw it, dare say, far more glamorous than you remembered it to be now that the invisible collar that your uncle wrapped around your neck like a noose was now gone. It was far much easier to gaze in awe at the splendor that it represented.

Though you reckon that if you closed your eyes, the walls would be crimson red with blood. Your fingers clutched the suitcase handle with a grip that bordered on desperation, as if letting go might unravel something fragile inside you. The threshold before you wasn’t just the entrance to another home, it was a gate to uncertainty, and that terrified you more than anything.

The last time you crossed into the unfamiliar den of someone else’s house, you were met with a home, but with silent trials and unspoken wounds. But it was too late to ponder whether you should just turn back, run away, and start anew somewhere else - the massive door at the entrance suddenly opened ajar to reveal the familiar face of the Kim family butler, San.

It struck you then, as he was walking towards your direction, that he wasn’t wearing a uniform like the last time you saw him, in fact, he wasn’t like anything you remembered at all even though this was only your second meeting. Gone was the uniform, the gloves, and his rigid posture. Instead, he wore a gray tailored suit and he walked like he belonged in it. He wasn’t performing anymore. He grabbed your suitcase for you, but before he could take a step forward, he hesitantly turned towards you. “I just wanted to say that there are no shadows in this place,” he said softly, cryptically. “You don’t need to keep looking over your shoulders. He can’t hurt you here.”

You tried to keep your face still, unreadable. You supposed that one eventful dinner was enough for everyone to see how much of a swine your uncle was. You didn’t respond to his strange reassurance. Instead, you studied him again, this time more carefully, more warily. “You’re not a butler, are you?” You said quietly.

His brows raised, but he didn’t say anything; he just smiled at you before beckoning you inside the mansion that would be your new home. Everything looked the same, except that in the morning light, everything looked more marvelous than it did rather than when they were covered by the dark shadows of the night. No matter which direction your head turned, awe struck in every corner.

Then you passed the staircase. Something made you pause, there was a prickle at the back of your neck. Without meaning to, you looked up. It was the man at the dinner, the one that sat closest to Hongjoong at the far end of the table - the one who told the older man he was staring. He also donned a smart suit like San, leaning against the bannister while his sharp eyes watched you.

He was a lot taller than you thought now that he was standing and he was younger, too. It was a surprise given his apparent ease with Hongjoong when everyone else wanted to piss their pants with fear. He didn’t glare at you, the only thing that signalled he wasn’t particularly angry towards you, but his stare still made your skin tighten. He was, by all means, intimidating.

“Did you need anything, Mingi?” San’s mellow voice cut the unspoken tension in the air as he also looked up the staircase. He motions to you with his hands. “You’ve met Y/N during the dinner.”

The man, Mingi, didn’t reply. His presence pressed down like a weight, not loud, but undeniable, as he turned around, but not before swivelling his head back, his side profile sharp and intense. “I know,” his deep voice spoke before he completely walked away out of your sight.

Your voice barely rose above a whisper as you turned to San. “Does he not like me?”

“It’s complicated,” he said simply, continuing the walk towards where was taking you.

Complicated. Somehow, that made you feel like you were trespassing in a life you hadn’t earned. Maybe he didn’t like you, maybe it wasn’t personal, but you understood it. You wouldn’t like you, either, ever since you were reduced to who you once were. Those were the thoughts that plagued your mind as you walked through the lavish mansion, until you stopped directly in front of a door that just screamed doom from the other side.

The feeling intensified when San gave the door a few light taps with his knuckles. You had been mistaken when you thought that this would be your room. There was only one reason why San would knock like he did.

“Come in,” a gruff voice replied from inside.

Coldness washed over you, the slight fear during that one dinner night creeping back and settling itself into your bones when you were met at the sight of Hongjoong at the end of his office behind a desk where there were plenty of papers strewn all over it.

You had to put in effort in your jaws so it wouldn’t fall open. You’ve seen plenty of good-looking men in your life, but none of them hold a candle to the enigma that was Kim Hongjoong. That night absolutely did nothing to justify how immaculate this man actually looked. The worst part was that he wasn’t even wearing a suit like San.

He was clad in a casual white-button up shirt, the sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows, revealing lean forearms that moved with casual precision as he scribbled something across a document. He didn’t look up, not bothering to acknowledge your entrance.

You shuffled your feet awkwardly, your heart beating a little faster, not out of attraction, though it wasn’t out of the realm entirely, but with palpable tension. Hongjoong flipped a page, still without acknowledgement as if he wasn’t bothered by your presence at all. It was San who finally broke the silence, his voice lower, more respectful than you’d ever heard it. “Boss. She’s here—”

“Leave,” the mafia boss cut off, voice hushed in the quietness of the office, but brusque nonetheless.

It was like you were struck with an imaginary hammer straight to your chest with that one single word, but it wasn’t just that - it was the undeniable truth that you were, once again, unwelcome in this shiny, brand new cage you were thrust upon. The silence that followed felt suffocating, even San was rendered speechless, clearly confused.

San cleared his throat. “I’m not sure I’m following, Sir.”

The sound of rustling paper and the pen scratching against its surface resonated in your head. “I didn’t stutter, San,” Hongjoong replied nonchalantly. “Both of you, out.”

There was no room for argument in his tone. He didn’t sound particularly peeved, in fact, he didn’t sound like anything at all, and yet, the dismissal stung you more than you’d like to admit. His utter dismissal was louder than any shout. You didn’t have to spend a minute longer in this room that was slowly beginning to feel like a jail cell - you didn’t matter.

“Alright,” San sighed, conceding, though against his will. “Where will she reside?”

The pen in Hongjoong’s hand stopped moving, and finally, he raised his chin, his eyes lifting slowly to stare at San. You swallowed, it reminded you of a predator being disturbed while it was resting. Your heart almost leapt out of your chest when he turned lazily to you, his eyes half-lidded this time. “Keep her in the dungeons,” he drawled flatly. Your eye twitched at the response.

“Hongjoong,” San’s mouth dropped open in surprise, not being able to stop his reaction at his boss’ reply.

“Apologies,” he said, leaning back on his leather chaise lounge, his tone egregiously insincere as he raised his brows at the butler. “I can’t help but jest at the stupidity of your question, Choi San. What did you want me to say?”

You clenched your fists before they could visibly shake. God, he was beautiful, and it only made it worse, like the universe had handed unimaginable cruelty to the face of an angel just to mock you. You were scared, yes, but you were also annoyed.

You haven’t even been here for five minutes yet he was already seemingly enjoying your discomfort and feeding off of your humiliation. The plan was to keep your head down so you could survive in this battlefield, but if he was going to keep this up, it was only a matter of time until your patience would snap and get you in trouble, or worse, killed.

As if he didn’t just say something outrageous, Hongjoong flicked his pen to start writing again. “I need Mingi,” he said. “And call your Third Master. He should have been back with Seonghwa from Suwon.”

San didn’t say anything as he shut the door behind you both, his steps quick and purposeful as he led you down a dimly lit corridor that felt far too silent for how grand the house looked from the outside. The heavy tension that lingered from the office followed you like a second shadow.

He glanced over at you, as if trying to read your face before turning his eyes back ahead. “I was wondering,” he started clearly just to ease the tension. “I’ve noticed, well, we all did, that you didn’t share a last name with your uncle. Is that on purpose?”

You blinked, surprised by the question. Such a contrast to what had just occurred a couple of minutes ago. But more than that, nobody had bothered to ask you that question before. It wasn't invasive by all means, just unexpected.

It did, however, shoot a pang of hurt through your heart. You haven’t explained this in more than a decade. “He’s my late mother’s older brother.”

San nodded slowly, absorbing the information with interest. Bless this man, you thought. “May I ask what your last name is?”

“It’s Jeong,” you replied softly. Oh, how good it was to say your father's name like this again. “Jeong Y/N.”

When he finally stopped in front of a modest door near the end of the hall, he placed a hand on the knob, but not before pausing. Something didn’t feel right. “D-Did you know my father?”

You frowned at his frozen expression that didn’t last for another second before he snapped off of whatever trance he put himself in.

“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, turning to face you. “I know this was a horrible start to your soon-to-be life here,” San shook his head, the corners of his mouth tightening. “Hongjoong’s hard headed, but he’s not heartless. Just give it time, okay?”

Your heart wanted to leap out of your chest. He completely changed the topic. “I get it,” you sighed, letting it go. “He’s as much of an unwilling participant in this as I am.”

San opened the door, revealing a clean, minimal room with a bed, dresser, and tall windows draped in heavy curtains. The room was beautiful, not that you expected any less, but this was decay dressed in silk; a trap made to look like a sanctuary to your wounded soul.

“I’ll let you settle in,” he said gently as he left you alone. “If you need anything, please let me know. This is your home now as much as it is ours.”

Indeed, you were alone, but not free. Caged, but not chained, at least, not in the physical sense.

San had said to give it time, but time was a commodity and you feared it - too much of it and it left you rotting away inside your body, and too little of it felt like a countdown.

Days passed from then, and you tried to settle in to the very best of your abilities. It was the only option you had, after all. You explored the rest of the mansion, even going as far as hanging out in the vast garden in the back when you had nothing better to do. It wasn’t home, per se, but it was far better from where you came from.

As suffocating as this mansion felt, at least San was right, nobody has hurt you - not yet at least. But that was always how it went, wasn’t it? Then the shift would be so subtle that you’d miss it if you weren’t already waiting for the sky to fall. You knew the pattern like your own breathing. So you kept your voice light. You smiled when you needed to, but you always stayed one step ahead. Because San was right, no one had hurt you, but they would. It was only a matter of time.

It was still a step-up from your uncle, his loud voice no longer calling you, but coincidentally, neither had Hongjoong. He didn’t look your way once, he didn’t call or summon you, and didn’t acknowledge your existence very much. Somehow, you weren’t sure if that was a curse or a blessing in disguise.

Nonetheless, you did enjoy it so far, and you had so much to learn. You’ve yet to peek through the library, study how the light filtered through your windows at certain hours, or just the layout of the mansion itself. You were just about to walk towards the garden when you heard the familiar, telltale signs of people talking in one of the rooms. No, rather, you were hearing an argument take place between two men.

“You lied to me,” a man’s voice, deep, thunderous, and absolutely furious, boomed throughout the expanse of the house. “That hit in Suwon was supposed to be mine, and mine, alone. Not anyone's, not Wooyoung’s, mine.”

You froze at the sound, instincts screaming at you to turn around, walk away, disappear. But curiosity dug its claws in. Your feet moved without permission, guiding you down the stairs toward the raised voices echoing from the living room just around the corner.

“I did not lie to you. Your lack of proper planning does not constitute an emergency on my end,” replied the familiar voice of Hongjoong, flat and stoic as ever, like he wasn’t on the burnt end of someone’s anger.

“That little fuck. Always stealing my hits. And you tolerate him.”

Heavy, furious footsteps and you barely had time to walk away unnoticed when you almost crashed into the tall and broad-shouldered form of none other than Mingi. His expression was twisted with the fury of a thousand suns as he glared at you. For a second, he looked like he was going to explode on you, but luckily, he just walked past you with rage he looked like he could barely contain.

“You,” came a voice from the living room.

You flinched, your spine automatically straightening like they did when your uncle screamed your name before he struck his fists. But Hongjoong didn’t shout, didn’t even raise his voice, but the sharpness in that single word pinned you in place like a knife. He stepped into view slowly, the light from the tall windows casting long shadows behind him. His expression was unreadable, carved from stone, gaze unreadable but heavy.

“What are you doing?” Hongjoong asked at last, his tone deceptively calm, but lined with quiet disdain. “Sneaking around corners like a rat.”

Despite your speechlessness in the frost of his tone, you couldn’t help but stare. Hongjoong’s back was turned against the window and little bits of sun rays hit his features just right. You tried to tamp the blush trying to sneak up your cheeks to make way at the vexation flickering inside your chest at his statement.

“I-I apologize, I didn’t mean to intrude,” you said quietly, your heart jumping to your throat. “I was just curious—”

“Curious,” he repeated slowly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “You were curious.”

You swallowed hard, your pulse pounding in your ears, as he stared you down. It was as if he was truly looking at you for the first time. He wasn’t much taller than you, but the way he stood felt like he towered over you by a mile. You felt numbness wash over you, but you tried your best to answer him with honesty. You had a feeling he’d catch you fibbing anyway. “I was told I could explore a little when I came.”

His lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile - too sharp to be one. “But did I tell you that you could go prancing around anywhere you damn well pleased?”

Your breath caught when he took a slow, almost bored, step towards you. For a second, you saw the taller form of your uncle stalking towards you, and before you could stop yourself, you opened your mouth to protest. “I’m sorry,” you squeaked. “I just assumed that since I’m staying here that I can—”

“Immaterial,” he interrupted, low and vicious. “This is my house, and you answer to me.”

Hongjoong stuck his finger under your chin, slightly tilting it up. The tips of your ears reddened completely, not because you were flustered, but because it felt degrading. “I’ve been quite busy, you see,” he continued with a sneer. “But don’t think I’ve forgotten your existence. I can never forget the face of someone who was sold to me.”

You didn’t answer. The words stung too much, mostly because you’d dared to hope, even briefly, that maybe this place could become a safe haven. Being remembered like this hurt even more. “You’re right, I won’t do it again,” you whispered, too defeated to even let your usual anger consume you. “I was out of line, I’m sorry.”

“Then, act like it,” Hongjoong’s eyes stayed locked on yours, unblinking, his tone dismissive and cold.

He turned his back to you, not bothering to wait for your reply as he started to walk away. “You shouldn’t have been here,” he added. “Don’t make the same mistake twice. Stay in your lane.”

You were left standing in the same spot he’d left you even after a long time clenching your fists, shame filling your chest at the minor confrontation, the sharp sting of his words looping in your mind, each repetition sharper than the last.

You dug your nails into your palms until it hurt. Good. You needed something to keep yourself grounded because the rage was almost enough to drown you. How dare he treat you like you were disposable?

The worst part was that you were supposed to marry this man, spend the rest of your miserable days walking on eggshells around this insufferable, arrogant bastard? You closed your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose as you took a deep breath.

San told you no one was going to hurt you. He lied, to a certain extent he did, because hurt here came from humiliation and not the hand that’ll lay itself on your skin. You didn’t have to like him, especially since love was completely out of the question, and you had absolutely no obligation to please him, but you would survive this. You had to.

You were following San one Sunday morning as he’d promised to show you the private library after you were no longer skittish after the last encounter with Hongjoong. “I’d love to show you the library today,” San turned, a smile blooming on his face. “Master is very fond of them, as is the Second Master. I’m sure you would, too. It’s quite fascinating.”

“I’ve heard a second and third master being mentioned once or twice before,” you started. “I assume they’re family. Would I be meeting them soon? Should I be wary of them?”

“You would be correct, they are family,” San nodded, pausing in front of the library doorway to face you. “Unfortunately, the Second Master is currently on a…”

He cleared his throat, trailing off to find the right wording like you didn’t already know you’d be marrying into the mafia. “Mission, so to speak. And as you’ve gathered, the Third Master is in Suwon so he should be back soon.”

He took a pause, glancing at his wristwatch before glancing back at you. “Right now, actually. I completely forgot about that,” he cursed under his breath as he looked at you sheepishly. “I apologize, would you mind if I left to instruct someone of his arrival?”

You gave San a small, amused smile, waving him off. “It’s okay. Go do what you need to do. I’ll just wait here.”

“Thank you,” he sighed in relief, already backing away. “I promise I won’t take long.”

You rolled your eyes fondly as he disappeared down the corridor, the sound of his quick footsteps fading behind you. Alone now, you took a slow breath, soaking in the ornate hallway. You didn’t mind waiting, at least you had something to look forward to very soon.

If anything, the wait was very peaceful, but that peace was soon shattered when you heard the door to your left at the far end of the hallway swinging open and two voices suddenly filling in the space of the house. They were unfamiliar, as far as you knew. One thing you noticed was that Hongjoong kept a very limited amount of staff going in and out of the manor.

You shifted nervously, looking to where San had left to see if he was coming back soon, not knowing where to go and how to interact with Hongjoong’s possible guests. He always had people over he was constantly talking to and you didn’t know how he’d reprimand you if he saw you talking to them.

“You got me fucked up if you think I’m not getting back at you for this,” the first man who entered snorted, his bright and shameless laughter put you on high alert. You watched as he made a show of stretching his limbs exaggeratedly. “You know I can’t stand economy flights, Seonghwa, why would you subject me to this torture?”

Then came the second voice, calm and firm, but edged with exasperation. “Forgive me for being presumptuous if I say you’re not going to die being a normal person just this once, master,” he said flatly, closing the door behind him with a sigh.

They were quite a pair, you noticed. It was easy to assume that this was the infamous Third Master Hongjoong had been waiting for. His eyes sparkled with mischief, his playful smirk clearly irritating his older, taller companion.

“We had to blend in, you know that,” the taller man - model - Seonghwa continued, gracefully trudging two suitcases behind him. “Hongjoong is going to throw a fit if he finds out we’re being tailed.”

The other man scoffed once more, letting out an obnoxious laughter that frankly reminded you of a hyena. “He’ll be fine,” he waved his hand off-handedly as he started to walk. “I could just—”

He came to a dramatic halt when he saw you standing in the hallway, blinking in complete surprise. He was a lot younger than you thought he was, his boyish charm was impossible to ignore. He observed you from head to toe before he let out a grin that was too wide to be innocent.

Seonghwa almost did a halt, but his was more sudden than his companion. Recognition flashed in his eyes and you would’ve missed it if you weren’t paying attention. He was more reserved, after all. If the first man was chaos, this one was control.

“Well, well, well,” the grinning one drawled, ignoring Seonghwa’s pointed sigh. “What’s a beautiful thing like you doing here?”

You blinked, taken slightly aback by the sheer confidence in his tone. “I’m not an intruder,” you said cautiously. “I-I’m waiting for San.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’re not. I would’ve already known if you were,” he smirked as he stepped forward, confidence dripping with every step, until he stopped in front of you. Shivers ran through your spine. He reminded you of Hongjoong’s predatory nature. “And I wouldn’t be smiling.”

He held his hands up for you to shake. “Jung Wooyoung, and my heart is yours to intrude, if you’d like. You’ll find that I’m very easy to rob,” He gave a unapologetic bow, his smirk widening. “You could do it now if you’d like—”

“She’s not available,” Seonghwa cut in, his tone flat, his gaze flicking to you with a subtle nod of acknowledgement. “Wooyoung, please, contain yourself, you embarrassment.”

Woooyoung backed off slightly, the confusion in his face palpable. “She’s not available?” He frowned. “Why not?”

Seonghwa leaned in slightly, whispering something low against Wooyoung’s ear, voice so quiet you couldn’t catch the words. Wooyoung froze, his gaze towards you no longer flirtatious, the warmth in his eyes being replaced by something so cold and calculating that had you taking a small step back.

You’d seen that look before - on Mingi, of all people. But then, just as suddenly, the light snapped back on. Your sense of danger heightened; Wooyoung and Mingi reminded you of Hongjoong the most. You had to avoid them at all costs.

Wooyoung gasped, hand flying to his chest like he was scandalized. “I don’t believe it,” he blurted out. “You’re marrying Hongjoong?”

Wooyoung looked at you again, a wild laugh tumbling out as he shook his head. “Wow. Poor thing. You’re how old? This’ll be so awkward during dinners when people ask me, especially Mingi. How did Mingi react to Hongjoong owning you?”

You frowned, not understanding Mingi’s significance. “Not well, I guess,” you admitted before you gave him a pointed glare. “And I’m no one’s property.”

“Nuances,” he shrugged. “Well, if you get sick of Hongjoong’s moodiness, my room’s on the east wing, just a few doors away from his office—”

“There will be none of that,” Seonghwa said dryly, voice heavy with the kind of weariness that could only come from years of enduring Wooyoung’s antics.

“I didn’t hear a no from her,” Wooyoung sing-songed.

“Wooyoung, shut up,” Seonghwa whisper-shouted in warning.

“Anyway, I could take you to dinner,” he wiggled his brows, grabbing your hand. You were almost appalled at his audacity and shied away, yanking your hand away quickly.

“Wooyoung.”

He turned to Seonghwa in exasperation. “Why are you messing up my groove, Hwa? God, you’re just like my father at this point-–”

“You fucking fool,” Seonghwa cut in coldly, stepping aside as he jabbed a finger toward the other end of the hallway. “Congratulations. Now you’ll find out what the afterlife is like.”

Wooyoung followed his gaze, then yelped so loud it echoed through the hallways, because at the far end of the corridor, shadowed in the doorway with the light behind him stood none other than Hongjoong. His arms were crossed and his expression screamed death.

Your stomach turned, the blood draining from your face as he stared at you. They were dark, narrowed into slits, filled with a contained fury. This was the first time you were seeing him days after your altercation at the living room and his presence reminded you of how remarkably terrifying this man was.

“Wooyoung,” Hongjoong said, voice low, crisp, and venomous. “My office. Now.”

All the color drained from Wooyoung’s face, his smirk crumbled, replaced by a sheepish half-smile and a muttered, “Ah. Right. Of course. Be right there.”

“And you. Be ready, there will be a family dinner tonight,” Hongjoong turned his unyielding attention to someone behind you. “Brief her, manners included.” He eyes you up and down, and you blushed in humiliation once more, trying not to look as small as you felt with his judging gaze. “Lord knows you need brushing up.”

You barely heard Wooyoung’s nervous chuckle as he stumbled past you, still trying to mask his own fear. But it didn’t matter, your attention was solely fixed entirely on the man who still hadn’t moved an inch, still standing in that doorway like a judge awaiting a verdict before you felt yourself being pulled back by Seonghwa.

“I am terribly sorry about that,” he apologized, leading you to the side door where he came from. “He’s not that bad, I promise. Just a bit aloof, and Hongjoong, he’s uh, something, but it’ll get better with time.”

You hummed, not knowing what to say. You couldn’t possibly say that their boss spiked a little fear in you somehow. As you were walking, you were pleasantly surprised to see red tulips blooming. You grinned, quickly running off to look closer.

However, you wouldn’t be the only ones to admire them. Mingi turned the tulip in his fingers with surprising care, before he set his eyes on you and Seonghwa before approaching. His walk, alone, screamed intimidation and hesitated. Mingi trained his sharp eyes on you before he set his attention back on the red tulip bud he was holding.

“Since when did we have these?” He murmured absentmindedly. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re back. Wooyoung? I heard him whining and bitching around here somewhere.”

“Since now, I guess,” Seonghwa curiously grabs the tulips and hums. He turns to you with a soft smile and shows you the tulip up close. “Say, Y/N, may I ask what your favourite flowers are?”

You didn’t answer immediately, not with Mingi staring at you. You tried not to look at him, but you could feel his stare dissecting your every breath and it made your spine stiffen. “These ones,” you answered softly, cradling a nearby petal. “Red tulips.”

A strange silence followed and when you glanced up cautiously, you found the both of them staring at one another curiously. Mingi’s eyes narrowed, and Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, as if they all knew something you didn’t. “Anyway,” Seonghwa cleared his throat. “You should go to the office. Your dad’s probably tearing him a new one. He, uh, may or may not have flirted with her.”

Mingi’s brows shot up in mild surprise. “God, that stupid fuck,” he hissed, shaking his head before he patted Seonghwa’s shoulder once and walking away. “I’ll catch up later, I need to settle the score with him and Father anyway.”

Dad? Father? Those were the only things circling in your head even as Seonghwa had guided you back into your designated room and sat you down on the bed. Your mouth opened and closed repeatedly, because Mingi wasn’t just anyone, he was Hongjoong’s son.

“I take it you had no idea First Master Mingi was Hongjoong’s son?” Seonghwa asked, amusement dancing in his eyes at your bewildered expression. You robotically shook your head in denial. He let out a short, breathy laugh. “Figures. That’s very Hongjoong of him to not tell you,” he shook his head.

You smiled bitterly. “Why would he? I’m nobody to him.”

Seonghwa’s eyes softened. “That’s not it. You have to understand, you are only about seven or so years older than his eldest son. It might not seem like it, but he does have morals.”

San did mention that the so-called masters were family, but you thought that meant they had a brotherly bond. You weren’t expecting literal family. “I just assumed he was one of higher-ups,” you blurted out.

“He technically is, yes,” Seonghwa confirmed. “He’s set to inherit the title once Hongjoong retires. Wooyoung is the next in line given that the Second Master is not interested in the title.”

You blinked repeatedly. Then it hits you - there was yesterday when San mentioned a Third Master. Wooyoung is also Hongjoong’s son. “Mingi is the eldest, Hongjoong had him before he hit twenty because his father wanted him to have a son before he transferred the title to him,” he kindly explained.

“And his mother was, uh,” he tenses a little bit before shaking his head. “She’s not a good person. Only married a Kim to sell the enemy information. There was no love in the marriage anyway, so Hongjoong kicked her out when Mingi was only three. Haven’t seen her since. They’re all about the same age, but Wooyoung’s the youngest. There’s a reason he gets away with everything,” he chuckled.

“How come Wooyoung doesn’t share a last name with Hongjoong?” You asked.

“It’s because Wooyoung is not his biological son,” Seonghwa answered. “Neither is Second Master, but they’re biological brothers, however. They were his former right-hand’s sons, but he died in a hit gone wrong. They both got along with Mingi even before then, so adopting them was a no-brainer. But that doesn’t matter, they are his sons.”

You took that in slowly. Three sons; one cold and carved from stone, another a carefree spark of chaos, and a third somewhere in between you hadn’t even met yet. No wonder Mingi looked at you like that. You were just a few years older than him and he was probably naturally weirded out about it.

“Anyway, I’ll leave you to it, you have to get ready for dinner tonight. Since Wooyoung has been gone for three months, it’s customary to welcome him back,” Seonghwa grabs your hand to shake it gently, smiling at you with that smile that eased your worries for a bit. “Don’t mind Hongjoong. I’m sure you’ll do well. It’s very nice to finally meet you, Y/N.”

You didn’t pay much attention to Seonghwa’s words. It’s very nice to finally meet you. You didn’t bother to dress up too much as you stood in front of the mirror longer than you should have, smoothing invisible wrinkles from your clothes. For a moment, you thought about putting on makeup, but you’d always felt like a child trying to play dress-up.

When you finally stepped out of the room and down the long hallway toward the dining hall, your legs felt hollow. The muted murmur of voices from behind the doors swelled with each step. And you hated how it reminded you of that night - your first time meeting Hongjoong.

Thankfully, he wasn’t ignoring you because he was looking straight at you, arms crossed as he watched your awkward form walk to the centre of the room, as San led to the chair to sit directly to his left. You cursed internally, you were betting on settling in the background and would have chosen to sit on the far end of the table.

Thankfully, everyone was here, though you couldn’t really focus on them. Mingi sat in front of you, Seonghwa and San, respectively, sitting beside him. You were sure you wouldn’t be the only one who couldn’t breathe with Hongjoong’s menacing aura. Still, you were relieved, at least you wouldn’t be alone.

“Howdy, pretty,” Wooyoung saluted flirtatiously beside you, his eyes twinkling with mischief and excitement. You saw the man beside him roll his eyes dramatically, but didn��t say a word. You gave Wooyoung a tight smile out of politeness.

“Scram if you’re going to be insufferable, Wooyoung,” Hongjoong sighed, irritation palpable on his expression before he set his eyes on you. “And you, don’t do that ever again. You’re here to represent me. You know what that entails. I know you’re not as dull as you seem.”

You gritted your teeth, forcing a meek nod as a response. Wooyoung scoffs obnoxiously, ignoring the first statement directed to him. “Relax, nobody’s taking your woman from you,” he teased. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you. You’re practically frothing at the mouth.”

You could tell Hongjoong was close to exploding judging from the vein popping on his temples that protruded so much, it looked like it hurt. Instead, he puts his hands up, gesturing to the stoic man sitting beside Wooyoung. “This is Jongho,” he said, voice flat and uninterested. “He will be your bodyguard from now on. Jongho, show your respect.”

You blinked in surprise. This was the last thing you ever expected, but you welcomed it. You were surprised, however, Jongho didn’t look like he was much older than you. His face was carved with stoicism and impassiveness. “I’ll do my best to keep you safe,” Jongho said plainly, voice deep and steady.

“Right, let's get a few things out of the way,” Hongjoong started, voice still as sharp and astute as if time was running out, the entire time the staff was piling dinner on the table. “When did your parents pass away?”

That question hit you harder than all the insults and coldness he directed towards you. You were expecting something else, even about your uncle’s failing business that you had no idea about, but certainly not this. “When I was sixteen,” you blurted out. “It was sudden, I was told it was a hit and run.”

Hongjoong’s question had sliced through the dinner like a blade, and your answer left a ringing silence in its wake.You swallowed, suddenly hyper aware of how cold the room felt. Across the table, Mingi’s gaze sharpened instantly, replaced by something cold and alert. He flicked his eyes towards Hongjoong, a silent communication passing between them. And even Wooyoung let out a slow exhale, his playful demeanor was nowhere to be found.

Hongjoong nodded, his stern face not giving anything away. “Hit and run?” He repeated slowly, like tasting the words. “That’s what they told you? Who told you that?”

“M-My uncle,” you answered truthfully.

“Hmm,” Hongjoong hummed brusquely. “That good-for-nothing leech during dinner?”

You nodded stiffly. A beat passes, something about the way his jaw muscle ticked and his exhale changed. “When did you start living with him?”

“Right after the funeral,” you replied. “He took me before my other family members had a chance to say their condolences to me.”

“And?” he asked, voice clipped. “How bad was he?”

Just like that, memories upon memories of all the hurt, emotionally and physically, started playing in your brain like an old camera film. Subconsciously, you touched your neck. The bruises were gone, but you could still feel his hands wrapped around them. “Bad enough,” you replied quietly, avoiding eye contact.

San’s eyes softened. There was a slight crease in his brow, one of restrained empathy. He leaned back slightly, as if he needed space to process it, or to give you some. “Fucking bastard,” he muttered under his breath.

Hongjoong didn’t respond, his eyes lowering to your hand on your neck. His eyes didn’t soften, but the edge in them did dull ever so slightly. He looked at you for one more second before he leaned back on his seat to stare out the large window that overlooked the entire manor.

"You need to act the part if you're going to stay here," Hongjoong said, voice sharp, still looking out the window. You were thankful for the change of topic, it was hard to pretend the questions didn’t sting.

You glanced wearily at him from where you were sitting. “What part?”

“You are going to be Mrs. Kim very soon, and you will be associated with me,” he said. “That means whatever you do will reflect on me, including both your victory and your defeat. I do not want the likes of you to embarrass me.”

You clenched your hands in your lap to keep them from shaking. Your identity was being stripped down, reshaped into someone he could not even tolerate standing next to. It was next level humiliation.

“I will not tolerate disrespect from any outsiders about what’s mine, hence me giving you a bodyguard,” he continued, casually sipping on his wine. “I refuse my family to be a laughingstock of some sorts. You will be under my name, so you will be under my protection.”

Under his name, not sharing his name. He was basically telling you that you will become his burden and liability. “It is imperative that no one knows about us for now. You will not wear a ring, and you will not speak about our arrangement. ”

You swallowed, throat tight. “So what am I supposed to be, then? Your accessory?”

He leaned closer, and your breath caught in your chest. “Play the game. Or pack your things.”

“Now, hold on a minute,” a voice cut off, one you weren’t expecting. Everybody looks at Wooyoung curiously, the cutlery in the background halting. “Don’t you think this is a bit much, Dad? You’re asking her to erase herself in front of everyone. Hide everything. No ring, no identity, no dignity? You want her to protect your name, but you won’t even give her the same courtesy?”

Your heart thumped. Was someone finally on your side? And of all the people, his own son? The one who you thought was a flirt. Hongjoong shifted his gaze. “Since when did you start calling me Dad?” He asked, tone cold now, sharpened to a lethal edge. “Do not undermine me at my own table, Jung Wooyoung.”

You weren’t that much of an idiot - this engagement was a farce because he was hiding you like a shadow. It was erasure disguised as a strategy. It stung, not that you were expecting him to hold you and show you off, but still.

Your fingers brushed against the gold fork, just drowning out the fight, and you were about to dig in when your plate was suddenly pushed away. Horrified, you stared at Hongjoong who had a passive expression on his face. “Don’t eat anything,” he stated, cold eyes drilling onto your wide ones, his fingers still on the edge of the plate he so callously pushed off. “Not until I say so.”

You froze, absolutely mortified at what he had done. You could accept all the insults and the cold shoulder he’d been presenting you in his house, but this? You swallowed the lump in your throat and kept your head down, your hands curling into your lap like they didn’t belong at the table. Your stomach had long since stopped growling - embarrassment had a way of killing hunger.

“She didn’t do anything. Why would you do that?” Seonghwa spoke, his tone laced with disbelief, his brows furrowed as he looked from the plate to you, then back to Hongjoong. Even Jongho, who had been trying to eat quietly, had stopped.

“No one eats until she does,” Wooyoung muttered suddenly, pushing his own plate away with a sharp scrape. He didn’t even look at Hongjoong. His focus was entirely on you, his eyes softening slightly. “I love you and all, Hongjoong, but we’re not playing these games. If you’re jealous, just say so.”

“Then none of you are eating,” Hongjoong snarled. The sudden sound of a chair scraping violently against the floor shattered the moment. Everyone flinched, heads turning just in time to see Hongjoong push himself up from his seat with a grace so sharp it cut through the hum of the room. “Get up,” he said, his jaw locked, his fists white-knuckled.

Your head whipped toward him in disbelief. “W-What?”

His eyes, narrowed and glinting with something unreadable, didn’t budge. “I said, get up.” His tone was low and lethal; it didn’t leave room for any arguments.

He didn’t wait for your response, not until he just grabbed you by the arm all of a sudden, dragging you away from the crowd and straight to the living room staircase. “What are you—?”

“You,” he spat, voice low and accusing. “What spell did you cast on them? How did you get everyone to turn against me?”

You blinked, stunned by the sudden accusation, but you couldn’t say anything as Hongjoong’s eyes darkened further, shadows flickering in their depths as his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “Jongho. Take her to her room. No more scenes.”

Hongjoong’s gaze lingered on you for a heartbeat longer, a mix of frustration and something unreadable in his expression before walking away. It was like Hongjoong ripped your heart out directly from your chest and took it with him, leaving your insides hollow in its wake.

“I apologize on his behalf. Hongjoong’s not good at expressing how he truly feels. You’re not missing much on the food, if it matters,” he assuaged in an attempt to make you feel better as he led you upstairs. “The steak was tough, the dressing was bland, and the avocados were mushy as hell. Our chef was sick, so we had to hire another one. Their last day, it seems.”

You swivelled your head slowly to look at Jongho. “W-What did you say was in the dressing?”

“Huh? Avocados? Yeah, it’s like someone stepped on them and plopped them on the plate. Bleh.”

Your heart rate began to pick up abnormally. You were deadly allergic to avocados. “Really?” Your voice cracked slightly, the information settling in your head like a broken record.

“Really,” he confirmed with a soft smile that emphasized how young he actually was.

Avocado allergies were rare. Even when you were younger, it was easy to avoid them, and even your uncle didn’t know you had an allergy. Not that he gave you avocados, he was cheap on you like that.

But besides that, you definitely screwed up last night. From what you’ve observed, not only was Hongjoong’s fuse short already, but his anger was difficult to dissipate as well. You needed to figure out a way to appease him, you didn’t want him calling off the engagement.

“You want to make Hongjoong’s dinner every night, you said?” San’s brows were both raised up to his hairline. “Are you sure, Y/N? Hongjoong’s quite the picky eater.”

You ignored the voice in your head that bristled at the thought of a man in his mid-forties still picky with his food. “It might not seem like it, but I’m a capable cook, I swear,” you joked. “I’ve had a lot of practice living with my uncle.”

San’s eyes softened significantly, but in the end, he relented. “I’ll instruct the staff to vacate the kitchen come nighttime,” he sighed.

True to his words, the kitchen was all yours by 6 o’clock at night. You didn’t even have time to marvel around the luxurious setup, you had no time to waste. Not when you had to prove yourself useful. When push comes to shove, maybe you could be his chef instead of his wife rather than your uncle’s niece again.

You didn’t make anything fancy, just a simple soup to gauge what Hongjoong might like or might not. You even tried your best to make the vegetables in it barely visible, that’s how much effort you put in it.

You were about to bring the soup up to his office when by sheer coincidence, Hongjoong, himself, showed up to the kitchen, and judging by his slightly raised brow at you holding the bowl with an apron still on you, he wasn’t expecting to see anyone in the kitchen, let alone you of all people.

“H-Hi,” you stammered, avoiding out contact, awkwardly. “I, uh, I made you something.”

He doesn’t say anything at first, just blinking repeatedly, before sighing. “Don’t stay up late next time,” was all he said before he moved past you to walk out of the kitchen as if he didn’t want to be there in the first place.

Hongjoong disappeared into his study, the sound of the door clicking shut behind him like punctuation to the silence he left behind. You let out a shaky breath, the sting of his blatant rejection making your legs shake as you sat on the dining chair. Maybe tomorrow.

But he still didn’t eat. You did it again the next day anyway, even when the results were the same. You weren’t a master chef by any means, but one thing you were proud of was that you put genuine care on all of the things your hands create.

You patiently waited for Hongjoong, ready to try and spend time with him at dinner even though the both of you never got along since he disliked you. The thought of being face to face made your heartbeat go wilder than the prospect of him accepting your efforts.

By the fifth night after another failed attempt, you asked around to figure out what Hongjoong’s favourite foods were. You tried to ignore the pitying looks San sent you while Seonghwa quietly cleaned another plate of ignored efforts, taking everything with a smile on your face even though on the inside, you felt like crying.

You clutched another plate a little tighter again the next day, heat bleeding through porcelain and into your palms. You wondered if he even knew or if he smelled the spices in the air, wondered if he saw your sleeping form on the couch when you were too tired to wait for him.

Maybe you didn’t need him to eat it, maybe you just needed him to pause - to look at you like you were more than the terms of a deal neither of you asked for. But instead, all he gave you was a sigh and his absence. And there you were - offering warmth with shaking hands to a man who’d rather freeze.

Hope began to dwindle when you didn’t even see Hongjoong’s shadow anymore by the seventh night. You started plating smaller portions out of humiliation and by the ninth, you didn’t bother waiting for Hongjoong anymore, just quietly making the food and leaving it in the kitchen, not even bothering to check if it was eaten or if Seonghwa had thrown it away.

You decided to stop after another week. You were tired of waking up in the room to Seonghwa’s shaking head when you looked at him expectantly. However, you wanted to make dinner for the last time not just for Hongjoong anymore, but for everyone who’s been nothing but accommodating to you.

You just needed a couple of ingredients to make what you needed, and for that, you wanted to pick them out yourself. That was how you found yourself directly in front of Hongjoong’s office where you knew he always was, steeling your nerves to knock and ask if there was a car that you could use to drive yourself to the market.

You were about to knock when you stopped yourself. There was a heated conversation going inside the office and by the sound of it, it was Hongjoong and Seonghwa. You could hardly hear what they were talking about.

“....can’t keep doing this….giving her the cold shoulder, Joong…she’ll find out….what are you going to do then?”

“Give me time…..so close to caging in Yoo Jaehwan, that bastard…no one can know….make sure he’ll pay….Yeosang.”

Your entire body locked, coldness spreading all over your chest at the mention of your uncle’s name. Those were Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s voices, you were positive, but what were they talking about?

“....won’t be safe forever, you know that. San….intel on the hit and run….was damn impossible to….think Jaehwan knows?”

“There’s no denying it…..will be safer here....never forgive myself if something happens….my everything—who’s there?”

You cursed internally when you accidentally misplaced your foot, causing your body to bump onto the door. You were about to turn and run away, to pretend that you were never here in the first place, but it was too late. The door swung open, revealing Hongjoong’s stern figure, eyes sharp and searching. His gaze landed on you in mild surprise, his chest rising slightly from how fast he'd moved.

“Y/N?“ You saw his hand squeeze the doorknob ever so slightly. Still, you can’t help the shiver that passed through you. That was the first time he’d ever said your name. “How long have you been standing there?”

His voice was low, but it wasn’t calm. “What did I tell you about sneaking around like a damn rat?”

“I-I just got here, I swear,” you swallowed, hard. He stared at you, deadpan. In no timeline or galaxy did he believe you. “I want to go out. I-I know there’s a market near here and—”

“Absolutely not,” he rejected, his voice rising up in pitch ever so slightly in disbelief. “You’re not going out.”

The denial was harsh and brutal - hell, he didn’t even let you finish your sentence - but this was also the first time you saw any other emotion on him other than anger, annoyance, and intimidation. “I really want to go—” you tried again.

“And I said no,” he repeated, his voice a little harsher this time.

You were taken aback. It wasn’t just the denial that struck you, it was the sheer urgency in his tone. It was the look in his eyes that if you stared hard enough, you could’ve found uneasiness and dread swimming in them.

“But I haven’t been out ever since I came here,” you blurted out in equal disbelief. He was the most arrogant and controlling one you’ve ever met and that was saying a lot. “I want to buy some produce—”

“Order it online, I don’t give a damn,” he snapped. He was about to close the door on you, but you put your foot to block it. “What the hell are you—”

“Please, Hongjoong,” you begged. It was a massive hit on your own ego and pride, but you were going to lose your mind if you don’t find fresh air soon. “I-I won’t even stay long, I’ll keep my phone on me.”

He stilled, his gaze faltered. You saw his throat tighten as he looked towards the floor. “Hongjoong,” he repeated under his breath, so soft you almost missed it.

Your breath hitched. He said it so softly that you almost missed it. Except you didn’t. You weren’t even sure if you were meant to hear it. Seonghwa, who forgot was also in the room, cleared his throat, thus breaking that unspoken tension you found with Hongjoong. “I could take her—” he started gently, but Hongjoong cut him off with a look, his neck snapping up so fast that it scared you a little.

Hongjoong’s eyes hardened again, and this time, they were the darkest you had ever seen. “I don’t keep you to tolerate her, Seonghwa,” he barked before turning to you one last time. “You’re not going out. That’s final.”

His gaze lingered a moment longer on you, eyes glinting with something between rage and warning, before he completely shut the door on you. He didn’t slam it, but it still knocked the wind out of your lungs as the finality of his denial settles in on you.

Something shifted in you at the moment. At first, you had mistaken it for fatigue. The stress of constantly trying to walk on eggshells with Hongjoong just so you wouldn’t say the wrong things in case he decided to call off the marriage, the late nights staying up making him dinner he didn’t even want, they were starting to get to you.

It didn’t happen all at once, but now the weight in your chest didn’t feel like fear anymore, it felt like fury - no, you knew it was. The final push was so mundane it almost felt insulting. You could feel your anger simmering and it was only a matter of time until it boiled over.

You were tempted to bang on the door like a madwoman, but you chose to walk away to the one place you knew would give you comfort - the garden. But even the flowers weren’t enough to make you feel better. If anything, they emphasized how infinitely colourless your world was.

You clenched your jaw, jaw tight as you sat down on one of the benches, arms crossed, trying to remind yourself that you were still here. You were still standing and still breathing. You weren’t going to fall apart over someone like him.

“Your energy is so strong that I wouldn’t be surprised if the flowers started to wilt.”

You rolled your eyes, not really in the mood to talk to anybody, but when Jongho sat beside you, you couldn’t help but relax a bit. You’ve always loved company regardless of how you felt. You’ve been alone all your life, so it was always nice to have someone. “How did you know I was here anyway?” You murmured with a small pout.

Jongho chuckled, absentmindedly fiddling with a lone petal. “I’m not your bodyguard for nothing. I’m always watching.”

“That’s totally not creepy at all,” you chuckled a little, shaking your head.

He laughed, shifting his weight before letting out a slow breath. “He’s not mad at you, you know.”

You snorted, giving him an incredulous look, but Jongho just smiled. “I’m serious. Don’t take it personally,” he said softly. “He’s just scared. That’s all.”

You didn’t care what Hongjoong’s intentions were, but in reality, you were starving for anything that made you feel less like a ghost haunting someone else's palace. Yet your mind wandered, uninvited and unwelcome, back to that moment at the door when you’d said his name. But it wasn’t your own desperation that haunted you - it was his reaction. How his gaze had faltered and how he’d gone utterly still.

If there was something to behold about your personality, it was that you were nothing but persistent, after all. It was the reason why you’ve come so far in your miserable life. So you tried again after a couple of days to ask Hongjoong again if you could go out.

Whatever conversation you overheard him and Seonghwa must have set him off that day so you figured you’d let his anger simmer and try to catch him in a good mood. Yesterday, you even saw him in the living room, casually reading the newspaper - you almost smiled at that because it inadvertently showed his age - while chatting casually with Mingi.

Now that you knew the real nature of their relationship, you could clearly see how much Mingi resembled Hongjoong, who honestly didn’t look a day over forty if it wasn’t for reading glasses resting low on his nose. God, you thought, that detail alone betrayed his age more than anything.

So you gathered your courage and waited when you knew he was going to be alone in his office in the afternoon. You took a deep breath, rapped your knuckles on the door before opening it slightly enough to poke your head in.

But he wasn’t here. That surprised you more than anything, mainly because it wasn’t much of a secret how much of a workaholic Hongjoong was. Even if you didn’t hear Wooyoung complain about it a lot, it wasn’t like you couldn’t see it.

Against your better judgment, you entered the room, opting to just wait in his room for his return, but not closing the door to signal that someone was here. Last thing you wanted was for Hongjoong to think you were intruding. You were hanging on your last thread with him as is. His office screamed of him all over.

Admittedly, you balked at the slight mess on his table as you walked towards the leather couches to sit down, but before you could do so, something inadvertently catches your eye amongst the mess that was his desk.

Half-tucked under a stack of manila folders and faded blueprints, barely sticking out like it had slipped by accident, was a photo. You reached for it on instinct - then froze. It was you.

Specifically, it was your graduation photo. You were smiling, though you could tell that it didn’t reach your eyes.. The photo was frayed along the edges and the corners were soft from wear. There was a faint crease running down the middle, as if it had been folded and unfolded a hundred times over. Your heart thudded, your hands shaking immensely. You shouldn’t have looked.

“You have thirty seconds to explain what you’re doing in my office before I lose all civility.”

The way your entire body trembled with uncouth shock was something to be seen. Hongjoong stood there, his sharp eyes trained on the photo you were holding in your hand, his jaw tightening. “Time is ticking, Y/N. You’re twenty-seconds away from having a very, very bad day.”

You put the photo haphazardly back on his desk. “I wanted to ask again if I could, perhaps, go out—”

You were stunned into absolute silence when he banged his fist on the door once but with enough force to shake the whole world around the both of you. “Are you deaf?” His tone sliced the air in half like a blade. “Or just unbelievably stupid? Didn’t I tell you that you cannot go out? How many times do I have to tell you?”

You stood frozen, the heat of his fury scorching your skin, but he wasn’t done. “You’re either acting like an imbecile, or you really are one. And I’m supposed to marry you? I’m already doing your uncle a favour by not shooting him between the eyes, but my God, this is pushing it. ”

His words gutted you. You were used to your uncle calling you all the insults in the book, but this was something else, Hongjoong was basically judging your entire personality from the skin side out, and that hurt more than anything else because he doesn’t even know you.

But you were only human, and even animals bite back when wounded. “You’re no different than my uncle,” you slipped out, unshed tears lining the corners of your eyes. “You’re hiding something from me. Why are you locking me in?”

He scoffed, eyes glinting with something that felt like contempt. “Please. Don’t insult me like that. He sent you to me like a lamb to a slaughterhouse. You just haven’t thanked me for the knife yet.”

You didn’t even know what expression your face was making, only that your cheeks felt hot and your throat burned like you’d swallowed fire. “I hate you,” your lips wobbled, looking at him with indignance in your eyes. “I hate you.”

He laughed bitterly, without humor, without restraint. “Yeah?” His voice was sharp, venomous. “Well, you’re about to hate me more.”

Then he turned, grabbed an envelope from the desk, and threw it at you. Money spilled out like a slap, some bills fluttering to the floor at your feet. “There, this is what you wanted, is it not? Now you can pretend you’re not living inside a cage.”

To say you were appalled would be an understatement. Your heart curled into itself, shriveling behind your ribs. Before you could fully break down, you ran out without another word, not bothering to look at him or the money littered across the room as you ran until your legs gave out in a random corridor of the mansion.

You didn’t bother minimizing your loudness, your hands trembling against the marble as you choked back a sob, quiet and broken. You haven’t cried in a long time, mainly because you refused to for someone like him, but this wasn’t just for Hongjoong. They were for everything; for the girl you used to be, the child who lost her parents, for the woman you were failing to become, and for the bride you never wanted to be.

The rubber band holding yourself together snaps, so you ran down the corridors, through the driveway, past the gigantic gates, anywhere but there. You didn’t know where you were going, but you needed to breathe somewhere he wasn’t.

It wasn’t until your shoes hit an unfamiliar pavement that you realized that you were far away from the estate. In fact, you were in a small park with a playground. The sight was haunting, the play place devoid of the telltale laughter of children. It was perfect.

The adrenaline that kept you going had long worn off, but you didn’t care as you walked warily towards the swings and sat on it. Your fists clenched around the swing’s cold chains as more tears fell freely now. You didn't bother wiping them away. Why were you here anyway? To get away from a man who doesn’t want you even when you knew the invisible chains that tied you two together would shorten again?

Pathetic.

You had fantasized about the idea of finding freedom in a marriage that saved your life. You had hoped that maybe Hongjoong would grow on you, and him on you, but those fantasies had shriveled and rotted the moment Kim Hongjoong opened his mouth. And so, you let yourself swing, forward and back, forward and back, as if maybe, just maybe, you could go far enough to leave the hurt behind.

You were there for a while, you didn’t move when the sun started to set. You didn’t move when thunder clapped on the sky above. You didn’t move when the first set of raindrops fell onto your skin, sticking to your clothes like a fever that you can’t sweat out. You didn’t care.

You would’ve stayed there forever, let the ocean take you, but someone else had plans for you that day. At first, you couldn’t hear it above the rain and the thunder, but the unmistakable sound of footsteps hitting puddles was impossible to ignore.

You closed your eyes, willing your mind to focus, but when you opened them again, you froze. Hongjoong stood from afar, drenched to the bone, his head whipping around like a madman. His chest rose and fell with labored breaths, but when his eyes met yours, his shoulders hunched like the entire world had just been lifted off his back and thrown back on again. You closed your eyes again, praying that he’d go away if you pretended to not see him, but just like you, Hongjoong was nothing but persistent, after all.

“Open your eyes and look at me,” he demanded, his voice losing its sharp edge, making way for an emotion you weren’t sure you were ready to hear from him.

By God, he looked devastating. His breath ragged, chest rising up and down, jaw clenched so tightly you thought it might snap. His usual posh and classy look was missing as water dripped from his hair into his dark, unreadable eyes. And he looked absolutely furious.

“Go away,” you said, voice thin and cold, wrenching yourself from his grip. “Leave me alone.”

You stood up, but your legs wobbled, and he caught your arm before you could fall. His grip was tight, almost bruising. Your heart almost thudded out of your ribs when he pulled you close, both of his hands holding your shoulders now.

“Stop it,” he barked, but his voice was hoarse. He shook his head, closing his eyes before opening them again with a shaky sigh. “Why are you such a fucking pain in my ass? I’m too old for this shit.”

He sighed sharply, his hand hastily pushing his wet hair away from his face in frustration. His other hand lingered at your arm, warm despite the storm, as he stepped in closer, lowering his voice. “I will bring the market to you next time, alright?”

The wind howled around you, but you didn’t even notice. His fingers twitched like they were about to reach for you, but you turned your face away just about when he stopped inches away from your skin before he fisted his hand, his gritting teeth audible in the rain.

“I’ll take you back,” he said, voice sharp again. “Before you get yourself sick and make my life even more difficult than it already is.”

His hand clasped yours tightly as he pulled you along with him through the rain. His hand didn’t leave yours until you reached the car, and maybe he felt bad for you, but when he grabbed your hand again when he started driving, it wasn’t out of pity.

If anything, he held tighter. His hand found yours on your lap, his thumb softly caressing the still damp skin of your upturned hand, not letting go even when he had to swerve and turn. He said nothing. He stared ahead through the rain-blurred windshield, jaw clenched tight, knuckles white on the steering wheel, but he never let go.

And you didn’t pull away either. Because even though your chest hurt from his words, the warmth of his palm over yours was the first thing all day that didn’t feel cruel. It seemed to lull you into a short slumber even.

The soft brake of the car was what brought you back to sentience. You watched Hongjoong press some sort of button on his car before radio static comes to life from it. “Third wing master bedroom. I’m going for a ride,” he said gruffly before he let go and pressed the bridge of his nose.

The chill of the storm probably disoriented you and you didn’t understand, but when your door opened to be face to face with the gentle Seonghwa, you were a bit surprised to find that you were parked directly in front of the mansion front door.

“Come on,” he said quietly, holding onto your shoulders and not caring if you were wet, like he knew what you had already gone through. “Let’s get you warm.”

He guided and helped you get out but you yanked to a stop when you realized that something was stopping you - Hongjoong’s hand still entwined with yours. You turned your head toward him. Hongjoong hadn’t moved, his eyes locked with yours, burning but hollowed out. And for a heartbeat, everything was still. The world, the storm, the ache in your chest.

But he let go, shutting the door softly before driving off to the night to God-knows-where. You wouldn’t know, Seonghwa was already guiding you inside the mansion by your shoulders. His hands were gentle, his movements even more patient.

His eyes dropped into sympathetic comfort, his hand slightly squeezing your shoulders. He gently walked the both of you into the living room where the fireplace was already hot and going.

San was already there waiting for you, eyes wide with panic along with Jongho who handed him a thick blanket. “Wrap up, yeah? Don’t want you getting sick now,” he said, quickly bundling you to warm you up. “You ran out during that storm? What the hell were you thinking?”

“Give her space, San,” Seonghwa said, but the relief in his voice was palpable. He handed you a mug of something warm, ginger tea, you guessed, and crouched down beside you, eyes soft. “We were all looking. You scared us.”

Suddenly, Jongho dropped to his knees, bowing his head low, much to your surprise. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “I should have kept an eye, I didn’t guard you enough.”

“W-What? No,” you frowned, hesitantly patting his head. “It’s not your fault. You’re not my keeper–“

Before you could even answer, Wooyoung appeared behind him, surprisingly less loud but just as concerned. “Yeah, you tell him that,” he scoffed softly, arms crossed to his chest, shaking his head slightly. “Hongjoong almost killed him in sheer anger. Seriously, why did you do that?”

It was the most serious you’ve ever seen the man, but of course, he was still as dramatic as ever. His eyes darted from you to the others before dramatically flopping onto the arm of the couch. “I’ve never seen him like that before,” he chortled. “Like, ever. Hell, he doesn’t even react that bad when me and my brothers get shot or something.”

“It can’t be that bad,” you murmured, fiddling with the blanket. “I wasn’t even gone for long. I was going to come back.”

That was when all three of them looked at you like you’d grown a second head. “Not long?” Jongho echoed, his brows shooting up in disbelief. “You’ve been gone for hours, Y/N.”

“Hongjoong practically tore the city apart,” San shook his head. “You were gone for over five hours. Five. That’s not just a walk in the park, that’s a goddamn vanishing act. I swear he was about to murder us if he couldn’t find you.”

You blinked, confused. “He was…looking for me?”

“Obviously,” Wooyoung rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue. “I’ve never seen him lose control like that before. But seriously, please don’t do that again. I’m not ready for Mingi to inherit the business in case Dad gets an aneurysm.”

You looked down at your lap, shame filling your lungs along with the thudding of your heartbeat. “I didn’t mean to scare anyone.”

“But you did,” Wooyoung muttered, but his tone wasn’t offensive. “But I get it. I do apologise on his behalf, though. He shouldn’t have thrown money at you. That was unnecessarily cruel, even for him.”

Seonghwa gave your shoulder a squeeze. “You’re safe now and that’s all that matters. Hongjoong should be back shortly,” he helps you up once more. “Come along. You should wash up so you don’t get sick.”

You thanked everyone before you let Seonghwa guide you into a part of the mansion you’ve never been at, let alone the room he took you in before he bid you a goodnight with a promise to check on you the next day.

You sighed deeply, trudging your feet to the shower. Your heart swells the moment you opened that door, it smelled of Hongjoong. It was hard not to remember the way his fingers had clung to yours, how they didn’t tremble until after he’d let go, the entire time you washed up and got ready for bed.

When morning came, your eyes fluttered open when the first ray of sunshine hit your face, but you didn’t want to get up - the sheets smelled faintly of sandalwood and something distinctly him, and that the pillow cradled your head felt like a welcome comfort.

For a second, you had, perhaps, thought that everything was a dream, but when you rubbed your eyes and made a move to get up, you were completely startled awake to see the last person you ever thought you’d see the moment you’d opened your eyes.

Hongjoong was fully dressed in a crisp black turtleneck and slacks, hair slightly tousled, as he typed something furiously into his laptop. He didn’t look up when you stirred, but you noticed the subtle clench of his jaw.

“I trust you slept well?” Hongjoong asked, lowering his glasses to stare straight at you.

You willed for your heartbeat to stop thumping so much for fear of him hearing it. You stared straight back at him, noticing the faint shadow under his eyes. “I suppose so,” you said. “You didn’t, though.”

“I’ll say,” he shut his laptop off, reaching for a folder beside it, before leaning on the couch, crossing his arms, his sharp eyes trained on you. “You did sleep on my bed, after all.”

You blinked, the words not sinking in your morning-addled brain yet, but when it did, your mouth dropped open in surprise. “I-I’m so sorry,” you blurted out, heat pooling in your lower belly at the information. No wonder the entire room smelled like him. “I didn’t sleep here on purpose—”

“I know,” he sighed. “I asked Seonghwa to bring you here. Lest you already forgot.”

He took his glasses off, rubbed the bridge of his nose like the weight of the world had been sitting there. “Next time, don’t run off in a storm just to prove a point.”

“That wasn’t what I was doing,” you frowned.

He looked at you then, brief and unreadable. “Then what were you doing?”

“Trying to breathe,” you croaked, your voice dropping down to a whisper that you wouldn’t be surprised if he hadn’t heard it. “Plus, you looked all night for me.”

He didn’t say anything at first. But the shift in his expression, the subtlety of it, was louder than words. “Freshen up and eat breakfast,” he muttered, tapping the folder in his hand twice. “I have a couple of questions for you.”

You weren’t in the mood to argue with him, certainly not after his obvious attempt in shutting down the conversation completely. Unsurprisingly, your body still ached from last night. You opted for a quick brush of your teeth, tying your hair presentably.

The scent of you had me dizzy. I have to get out of here.

You didn’t bother changing out of the pyjamas Seonghwa had provided for you since you didn’t have clothes here. It would give you an out, and you weren’t ready to face Hongjoong out of shame. That’s exactly what you did. You were about to slip out, when he cleared his throat.

“Where are you going?” Hongjoong stared at you, brows raised.

You gulped, feeling like you were caught doing something you shouldn’t. “Uhm. I’d hate to bother you further. Didn’t you tell me to have breakfast?”

“I did,” he confirmed, gesturing towards a particular direction of the room. “With me.”

Your brain almost shut off with the information. With him? He rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he stood up and opened the balcony door. Your heart practically leapt out of your chest, you were positive that the breakfast set up there wasn’t present when you woke up. Had he instructed someone to set it up while you were in the bathroom?

This was the first time you were ever going to eat with Hongjoong. Not beside him, not five feet across the room like some barely tolerated shadow. With him. And worse, he was making you so nervous that you felt like you’d forgotten how to walk properly as you followed him out, sitting across him awkwardly, not knowing how to place your stiff limbs properly.

You didn’t even register how your hands trembled until you reached for your fork and nearly knocked it off the table. You were just about to dig in, not knowing what else to do, when he stopped you. “Wait,” Hongjoong halted you brusquely.

“W-What?” You froze, hand still mid-air, wondering if you did something wrong.

Instead of replying, Hongjoong reached over your plate and began digging into your food with his chopsticks. You narrowed your eyes in slight annoyance, ready to mouth at him for possibly controlling what you ate and picking at your food without asking, but your heart dropped to your feet by the time he was lifting his chopsticks back up again.

He picked out a couple of raisins from your plate, setting them on his plate one by one as if this wasn’t the first time he’s done this. You stared, blinking rapidly to stop the sting behind your eyes. “I hate raisins,” you suspiciously pointed out.

He pauses, glances at you once through his lashes, before eating like you didn’t say anything. And suddenly, your chest ached with the weight of all the things he wouldn’t tell you. Before you could open that can of worms, he was already flipping open a folder he had brought to the table, effectively cutting off the topic with the sharp precision he was known for.

“I need you to look at a couple of faces for me,” he said, back in business as usual with his clipped utterrance. He slides the files towards you in one, smooth motion. “It’s imperative that you tell me immediately if you see a familiar looking face.”

You were confused, but you took the folder with ease, flipping through pages and pages of different photos of both men and women alike. Hongjoong staring dead into your soul was distracting, but you were sure you'd never seen these people before. You were going to tell him as such, until you stumbled upon the very last photo.

“Him,” you drawled out, surprised at both the face and yourself for pointing it out. “I’ve seen him before…”

The moment you showed him the photo, the tension in his shoulders snapped into visible rigidity. “Where?” he demanded, his voice sharp and urgent. “Where did you see him?”

Truth be told, you would have forgotten about the man if it wasn’t for this. “I passed through him before I reached the park,” you frowned. “I remember him because he had this weird lip piercing.”

Hongjoong cursed under his breath, making the dread in your chest spread like a disease, before he hastily snatched the folder from your hands, his hands fisting the edge of the folder. “Finish your food, darling,” he said hurriedly, the darkness in his face making you nervous. “We’re going for a little trip downstairs after.”

“I-I don’t understand,” you frowned, doing as he says and stuffing your face with some bread. “You’ve been acting so damn weird lately, I’ve never seen this man in my entire life before yesterday.”

His head turned slightly, those unreadable eyes locking onto you again. “Rather,” he said slowly, voice dipping towards something ominous. “You’ve never paid enough attention.”

You stopped mid-chew to stare at him. This was the longest conversation you’ve had with Hongjoong and the foreboding feeling of potential sinisterness was the first thing he made you think about?

He held your gaze, his fingers curling gently around your chin. His voice dipped to a whisper, low and graveled, brushing across your skin like smoke. "Look closely," he murmured. “I want you to think about why you’re truly here.”

Your brows furrowed. “Because my uncle sold me to you—”

“Think, Y/N. Think,” his tone laced with a cutting sort of irritation. “I know that desiccated, dried-up brain of yours still works.”

You rolled your eyes, the backhanded insult slicing through the tension with a bitter familiarity, but it didn’t lessen the heat brewing behind your ribs. “I owe your uncle absolutely nothing,” he said, letting go of your chin with a scoff. “I could’ve killed him before you even set foot in this house.”

“Have you killed people?” You blurted out before you could stop yourself. He raised a brow like it was a question unworthy of a response. "A-Are you going to kill me?"

“Do you want me to?” Hongjoong countered, tilting his head.

Your blood began to thrum in your ears, anger bubbling up in your chest like acid. “I’m not that stupid, you know,” you whispered, your voice cracking with frustration. “I’m aware there are things I’ve no idea about, but I know what a lie tastes like when it’s shoved in my mouth.”

You looked back at the spread of photos he’d shown you. But something inside you stirred as your gaze landed on the photo again. It was faint, like a memory just out of reach and a sense of recognition that felt older than logic.

“Have you ever wondered,” Hongjoong said slowly. “Why I’ve been so adamant in keeping you here?”

You opened your mouth, but he held up a hand. “No,” he said. “Forget that. Ask yourself this, have you ever wondered why your uncle took you in back then?”

Your heart stopped, but he wasn’t finished. “Surely, he wasn’t the only family you had. Worst of all, of all the people he could have sold you to, it had to be me. I know you’ve done your research on who I am.”

Indeed, you did, and the Kim family was not to be messed around with. Your throat felt like it was closing. You wanted to speak, but your brain was too busy racing through every memory you had, trying to connect dots that refused to sit still. Was your uncle much, much worse than you gave him credit for?

Hongjoong leaned close just enough to make you squirm under the intensity of his focus. The movement was subtle, but it was calculated - a hunter testing the waters, seeing how far he could push without you breaking. “Predators don’t fear prey,” he said. “They fear another predator.”

A scream threatened to bubble from your chest just lying around the surface. His statement echoed in your head far, far worse than a broken record. It was the only thing you could think about the entire time you followed Hongjoong downstairs towards his office. You couldn’t even lament what happened here the last time, the money he threw at you already cleaned up as if they were never thrown at you like dirty rags in the first place.

You didn’t even notice that Mingi and Seonghwa were already in the office, seemingly waiting for the both of you to arrive and such, until Hongjoong started to talk to them again. “This,” he slammed the folder rather harshly on the table directly in front of Seonghwa, who just took it in stride and opened the file. “That snivelling bastard on the last page. I want him gone.”

“And you,” he turned back to you, eyes ablaze with newfound anger you didn’t even know was already there. You raised a defiant brow, why was he looking at you like this was your fault. “You’re not going out anymore, you hear me? Never let me repeat myself.”

You narrowed your eyes, the simmering tension in your bones finally boiling and tipping over into something far more dangerous than you’ve ever felt. Your jaw ached from how hard you were biting down on your tongue, and the polite mask you’d worn like second skin started to peel.

Your feet started to march towards the bane of your existence like a bull who found the red spot. You didn’t even care that Seonghwa’s mouth dropped slightly and he was subtly shaking his head, you still poked Hongjoong’s chest pointedly and boy, you were sure that hurt a little.

“You could at least tell me why,” you snapped, your voice low and trembling with rage. He narrowed his eyes in warning, but you were done caring. “Or is it because you can’t keep your dogs in line? Tightening my leash is the only way you won’t lose control over your goods? Maybe it’s not the outside world you’re afraid of, it’s that someone might realize your entire empire is built on fear.”

Silence. A sharp, immediate silence that sliced through the room like a guillotine. Mingi visibly stiffened, Seonghwa’s face paled, but Hongjoong? He started to laugh. At first it was soft, then it turned into a full-blown laughter so sarcastic, you wanted to cover your ears from the grating sound. “The wolves are at my door, waiting for my empire to fall. I won’t let you destroy it just because you refuse to fall in line, brat,” he sneered.

You laughed, not out of humour. It was cold, sharp, and laced with every ounce of your pent-up exhaustion and rage. “Frankly?” You said, meeting his glare with one of your own. “I don’t give a flying fuck. You want to talk about wolves? Look in the damn mirror, Hongjoong.”

You poked him twice more in his admittedly toned chest, and you did it hard, too, just so he could even an ounce of how heavy he’d made you feel. “I’m not some damsel you could fool around with just because I was thrust here. I won’t roll over just so you can stroke your ego.”

A slow, unreadable flicker crossed his face. His gaze sharpened, but his body relaxed, curious now, as he tilted his head, slowly. His expression didn’t change much, but you saw it, that glint of something deeper. Respect? Amusement? Recognition? “She bites,” Hongjoong murmured, his voice dropping to a note lower, smooth and quiet like a blade sliding from its sheath. He crossed his arms, a ghost of a smirk fleeting on his sinful lips. “Finally.”

He was still watching you, but it wasn’t the same stare anymore. It wasn’t the same power dynamic. You had shifted something, and he had noticed. “You’ve mistaken my compliance with submissiveness,” you replied, your voice steady, your pulse roaring in your ears. “I’m terribly sorry to tell you that you’re wrong.”

Hongjoong’s lips parted slightly, as if that, too, had surprised him. Or pleased him, you couldn’t tell, but when his smirked widened, you almost faltered. You gritted your teeth, cursing whichever God had molded him for making this demon so devilishly handsome, it was maddening.

“That doesn’t negate the point, little darling,” he continued, still sharp as glass. “I built this kingdom with my soul, and I am the king of this goddamn empire. Whether you like it or not, you are in it. ”

“I’ll bow to your king when he shows himself,” you said, clipped and cut. It was a direct dig towards him, it was a deliberate show of disobedience, but you didn’t flinch. You kept your chin up, gaze level as you started to walk away from him for the first time.

The adrenaline didn’t wear off even hours later as you paced around your room in heated anger. But God, that felt good. You’ve never directly expressed your grievances towards someone else like that and now that you’ve gotten a taste of it, you don’t think you could hold your mouth longer around the menace that was Kim Hongjoong. It might get you killed, but at this point, death might be the only salvation you’ll feel.

One was for sure - something had definitely changed ever since that nasty confrontation between the two of you. If before you’ve barely seen even his shadow, lately all you’ve been doing was butt heads with Hongjoong, and man, are you not happy about it.

“Was it you?” Hongjoong marched towards the living room one day with steam coming out of ears. “Did you set the thermostat at twenty-eight?”

“I did,” you sneered, not backing down. “Not everyone in this house has cold, dead blood like you.”

He scoffed in disbelief, pinching his nose bridge. “This isn’t a sauna, go outside where you belong if you’re so cold.”

You watched him stalk towards the thermostat, cranking the heat lower so roughly, you were a bit concerned it would break. Oh no you don’t, you dictating bastard. You got up from the couch, pushing him away to crank the thermostat back to low before giving him the stink eye.

“Fine,” he nodded stiffly, his glare so intense, it had you backing up slightly. “I’m locking it. Don’t expect me to lower it when summer hits.”

It was the littlest of things that set the both of you off, but if you were being completely frank, you more or less enjoyed his annoyed reaction. Serves him right for all the months he put you down.

“You finished all the cookies,” you glared at him heatedly one afternoon, pointing at the plate of half-eaten cookies that lay next to him on the coffee table as he read his newspaper. “I liked those cookies.”

He didn’t even look up from the newspaper. “That’s just too bad, isn’t it?”

You yanked the paper from his hands. “You don’t even like cookies! They were for me.”

“I bought them for the house,” he glared, snatching it back.

“Yeah?” You snarled, snapping your eyes towards the coffee mug you knew he was very, very particular about before a smug grin fills your face.

He stared in disbelief, his eyes widening at what you were about to do. “You insolent brat, don’t you dare—”

But it was too late, you gulped all his coffee in one go. You tried so hard not to grimace at the bitter taste, or else your pride will tank, but the redness in his face from sheer anger made it oh so worth it.

Everyone had definitely noticed at that point. Even the stoic Mingi would give his own father a dirty look whenever he’d catch that both of you mouth off to one another like you were in a damn competition. Woooyung, of course, was nonetheless fascinated about the turn of events.

“You two act like an old married couple, I love it,” he cackled while he ate dinner with you as you glared at Hongjoong’s turned back when he instructed the chef to put more raisins in your plate just to spite you. “I’m slowly getting over how my stepmother will only be like a decade older than me if this is the entertainment I’ll get for the rest of my life.”

You scoffed, grabbing a piece of raisin with a deep frown. “It’s not my fault he’s a petty bastard,” you said, flicking the raisin towards Hongjoong’s ear with an accuracy you didn’t even know.

Wooyoung laughed with you not-so discreetly while San paled ever so slightly at the scorching glare Hongjoong sent your way. “You are something special, Y/N,” he shook his head. “Boss would have had our heads a long, long time ago for something less.”

Unfortunately, you couldn’t fully finish your dinner. The taste of the raisins were so prevalent in the food even when you’ve removed all of them that the taste of it just permeated all over the dish.

You sneaked in the kitchen at two in the morning where you knew no one would be up just so you could ravage in the cupboard for some midnight snack, but you were so wrong. You squeaked, blinking at Hongjoong who was in the middle of drinking water and he blinked back at you.

“Couldn’t sleep from the guilt?” You asked, referring to you not eating dinner. And you knew that he knew, he was watching you the whole time smugly.

“No,” he muttered. “Just the sound of your attitude echoing through the halls.”

You snorted. “Wow. You’re real original for someone who thinks being emotionally constipated is a personality trait.”

He scoffed, shaking his head as he walked past you towards the exit. “Don’t hog all the snacks,” he brushed with your shoulder and it sent a zing of electricity through your spine. “Money isn’t as easy to come by, yes?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’re good at it,” you countered with a snarl. “If being a raging psycho and asshole was your living, no wonder you’re filthy rich. Let’s not even mention your head count.”

You blinked as he walked back toward you. He stopped in front of you, his hands coming to rest beside your waist on the counter, trapping you. “Would you like to know my head count?” He asked, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. “I’d love to add you to that roster.”

You tried to breathe, his face was so close, your noses nearly brushed. His eyes dropped to your lips for the briefest moment before snapping back up. “Because I’ve been real patient,” he muttered. “But I’m tired of your mouth lately.”

And as quickly as he’d closed in, he pulled away with a sharp inhale, the smirk curling wider as he turned on his heel. “Sleep tight, darling,” he tossed over his shoulder, voice laced with poison and something dangerously sweet.

And just like that, he was gone, leaving behind blush on your cheeks, the thundering of your heart, and the faint scent of him clinging to your skin.

Usually, your banters were harmless. Dare anyone say that even though Hongjoong got under your skin, you’ve never felt more alive than you did whenever you’d cross paths with him. You didn’t know what it was; maybe it was because that finally, he wasn’t avoiding you like the plague even though nothing nice came from that mouth of his.

But this time, you didn’t know what completely set the both of you off. You just wanted to have lunch like normal, and today was very different, too. Usually you’d eat with one or two people only as everyone’s schedules didn’t quite align, but this time, even Seonghwa and Wooyoung were at the dining table.

You were laughing at something that Jongho had mentioned when Hongjoong’s cutting voice rang around the table. “Can you shut your mouth?” He snapped, cluttering his utensils against his paperwork. “I’m trying to concentrate here.”

You rolled your eyes. Ever since he got off a phone call he got before everyone started eating, he’s been in a horrible mood. “Get off the damn table if you can’t handle basic human interaction,” you snapped back.

He stared you down, voice ice sharp. “You’re not clever. You’re a loud, useless distraction and an irritation everyone’s sick of pretending to tolerate.”

“Father, stop it,” Mingi, who sat at Hongjoong’s left, shot back, eyeing the older man with warning. He turned to you and you almost faltered. How is it that his son was more intimidating than him? “And you. You’re not helping.”

“No, let her,” Hongjoong scoffed. “No wonder your uncle gave you away. You’re nothing but a liability.”

Patience was a trait you had that you were proud of, but not today. You can barely contain yourself, because that was a low, even for him. I'm sick to death of swallowing every single thing I'm fed. You slammed your hands on the table, rising swiftly, your chair scraping loudly against the floor. Everyone’s eyes followed you, wide and stunned. “Oh, give me a break, you belligerent, deluded, pompous prick,” you barked. The room stilled. You hadn’t raised your voice, but the words hung in the air like glass about to shatter.

Even Hongjoong seemed to falter a bit before his eyes narrowed once more. “Have you lost your fucking mind?” He yelled so loud it echoed through the halls, making everyone flinch. “Watch your tone, you ill-mannered disgrace—”

You scoffed in disbelief. “That’s tough shit coming from you who’s done nothing but make me miserable here.”

“That sounds like a you problem, darling,” Hongjoong’s eyes ticked.

“Well, to that, I say you're a cunt—” you were about to say, but your voice caught in your throat, the fierce words dying on your lips as a wave of dizziness swept over you. You faltered, mid-step, your knees threatening to give out.

He scoffed, the sharp edge of his haughtiness cutting through the silence. “Giving up already?” Hongjoong sneered with a smirk that promised he didn’t believe you had the strength to stand your ground.

No, this was different than anything you’ve felt before. Your breathing became laboured, the suddenness of it threatening the bile in your stomach to rise from your throat. You grabbed the nearest thing you could hold on to, but your grip slipped. “Hold on,” San balked, grabbing your arm in mild concern before his face shifted. “Y/N, are you okay?”

No, I’m not, you wanted to say, looking straight at Hongjoong just as your steps wobbled and your vision blurred. It was when his expression cracked, panic flickered across his face, eyes widening with sudden concern, breath hitching as he reached out instinctively.

But before he could reach you, Jongho was there, his strong arms catching you just in time. “Y/N? Oh, God,” he tapped your cheeks hardly, but to no avail, your eyes were closing. “Stay awake, fuck—”

Hongjoong’s face, the devastated, unsettled look you weren’t ready to see, and the way he grabbed your body was the last thing you registered before darkness swallowed you whole, but not before you heard Seonghwa mutter one word that would have made you faint regardless.

“Poison.”

All you could feel was pain. It hurt to try to move your limbs, it was more reminiscent of bones grinding against each other sharply against sandpaper, it hurt to take the smallest gulp of breath, hell, it hurt to even blink. It was like that car accident after your graduation all over again. Why did death love chasing after you? And why didn’t you chase it back?

But this time was different. You weren’t in a hospital bed, there were no nurses around, and there was none of that sterile scent you hated so much. Rather, there was warmth - warmth so comforting, you couldn’t help but snuggle into it, burying your head in hopes for the ache to go away.

“Fuck’s sake, It’s been days, why hasn’t she woken up yet?”

Even you could feel your subconscious frown at what you heard. Days. And you didn’t even feel better about it. “Give her time, Joong. I mean, look at her, so frail—”

“Frail, my ass,” a rough, familiar voice snapped just as you felt your arms being squeezed so tight, it would have woken you up if you hadn’t already. “She’s my little fighter, poison isn’t going to break her. Have you not heard the way she talks back to me?”

A deep laughter resonated through the entire room. It wasn’t quite like Mingi’s - not that Hongjoong Jr. would ever act normal around you - no, but this was richer, familiar, even. If you could just open your eyes and see.

“I see she hasn’t changed. Good to know you’re getting your money’s worth, Dad. You should go eat something. Anyway, I need a complete rundown, Hwa. I didn’t fly here for nothing, and I need to go back soon. The longer I stay, the more danger we attract.”

The warmth you had disappeared followed by a door closing nearby. Silence envelops the room and the familiar sigh of Seonghwa fills it. “Well, like we said, it’s poison. Someone who isn’t supposed to be here is here.”

“But how? What are the odds? It could’ve been anyone at that dining table. You think it’s Yoo Jaehwan?”

“Who else? To do it not only in his house, but right in front of Hongjoong’s face…whoever did it is asking for death.”

“Should’ve seen your father’s face,” San clicked his tongue. “I swear something inside him died.”

“Well, fuck, maybe because she could’ve died?” The familiar, deeper voice counteracted with a sass that knocked in your memory. “Because that’s not just a wife he’s protecting, that’s someone he’d burn the world for.”

“Anyhow. We should come back later. I have to check on your father to see if he’s eating or I might have to get your older brother to tie him up or something.”

Half of that conversation went through your head. You weren’t a total idiot, you knew what most of it entailed, but all you could think about was the missing warmth that enveloped you. You forced yourself to come to, your weak arms supporting your upper body as you tried to sit up. It was hell as your eyelids fluttered open against a dull ache pounding in your skull, but you needed to move your stiff limbs before they started to throb from prolonged unuse.

Just then, the door opened. Silently, carefully, like doing so would trigger another bout of faintness in you and you were met with the surprised eyes of Hongjoong. He froze in the doorway like he’d walked in on something sacred.

For a moment, he just stood there, unmoving. Then, the tension in his shoulders released slightly, only to be replaced by something else entirely - pure, unadulterated relief. You didn’t have to touch him to know that he was the warmth that kept you stabilized the entire time you rested.

He started to walk toward you in slow, controlled steps. His glasses were gone, his hair a mess, and there was a tremble in the hand that rolled up the sleeves of his unusually wrinkled shirt like he’d been gripping it in fistfuls.

Most of all, his eyes were tired. He sat on the bed next to you, his eyes never leaving yours, and you thought that was it. You certainly weren’t prepared for the way he lightly gripped your shoulders to pull you into a hug, and just like that, the warmth you’ve been craving for had returned.

“Get off,” you rasped weakly, but your voice betrayed the fight you didn’t have in you. Still, your pride flared, because nothing stung more than collapsing in front of him.

He didn’t budge. “Don’t even try,” he said through clenched teeth, his arms tightening around you. “Stay still and let me have this even for a moment.”

It was in the way he gripped you too tightly, in the quiet desperation of that whispered please. You didn’t even realize he was trembling slightly. His arms weren’t caging you, rather, he was a man holding on to you as if he was sinking at the bottom of the ocean and you were the balance he needed to stay afloat.

Pride be damned. You wrapped your arms around him, silent tears falling from your eyes as you held onto him. This was all you wanted, what you didn’t have back then when you had nobody. The prospect of never waking up was settling into you and you didn’t have enough strength to keep holding it in together.

“I’m still angry at you,” you sniffled.

“Get angrier. The sooner you get your strength back, the sooner you can talk back again like the brat you are,” he shushed, the tremble in his hand now visible at the way he smoothed the damp strands away from your face along with your tears.

“As touching as this is, I believe we have more pressing matters at hand.”

You tried to pull away, but Hongjoong wasn’t letting you - though if you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t even really want to - so you opted to look over your shoulder at the source of the voice.

Hongjoong groaned when you pushed him away, your breath caught in your throat. Your eyes widened slowly, your hand flying up to cover your mouth in shock. “Y-Yeosang?” You whispered, like saying his name too loud might shatter the fragile reality in front of you.

The man in question stood from the plush armchair, casual in his posture but carrying an unmistakable grin, one you hadn’t seen in years. “The one and only,” Yeosang said with a lopsided smile, walking toward you. “How have you been, Miss Jeong?”

You stared at him in disbelief, the air knocked clean from your lungs. “I-I haven’t seen you since…” your voice faltered, because the rest of that sentence hung heavy in your throat.

Yeosang seemed to know what you meant without you saying it, because his expression softened as he gently pulled you into a hug. “Y-You’re the last person I expected to see here,” you mumbled against his shoulder, pulling back to get a proper look at him. “Wait, what are you doing here?”

The both of you turned around to look at Hongjoong when he cleared his throat. “You wretch,” he looked pointedly at Yeosang with a bitter scowl. “Aren’t you supposed to be down there with everyone?”

Yeosang scoffed, rolling his eyes so dramatically you were surprised they didn’t get stuck up his skull. “You were the one who called me and threatened to cut my allowance if I didn’t fly here soon,” he deadpanned as he pulled away from you to stand up. “Relax, she was my mentor. I’m allowed to say hello, Dad.”

Your eyes flew between the two men in shock. “Dad?” You blurted out. “How many kids do you have? Because holy sh—”

“Soon to be two if this one doesn’t shut his trap,” Hongjoong hissed. “I can still cut your allowance, Kang Yeosang. Don’t test me.”

“Oh, please. You need me,” he chuckled sarcastically, tapping on the stethoscope he had around his neck that you didn’t notice was there. You stared at him proudly, remembering the young Yeosang who always told you of his dreams to become a doctor one day back then.

“Anyway, you need to get out of here, Dad,” Yeosang said in urgency. “Mingi will take care of everything. It’s good training for the future, anyway. We need to purge your staff and I need to test every single surface of the manor to see if there’s more antifreeze contamination.”

Goosebumps erupted on your skin. Antifreeze. It was how you found yourself saying goodbye to Yeosang, with the promise of catching up as soon as everything was safe, and then the others before you were dressing up to go with Hongjoong to his supposed safe house.

“I can walk, you know?” You frowned when Hongjoong walked beside you the whole time, steadying you with a firm hold on your elbow. You hated how flustered it made you - how close he was, how natural it felt.

He glanced at you once, opting to ignore you as he opened the car door for you. But just before you could step in, he stilled. Hongjoong plucked a single sunflower and he tucked it carefully behind your ear. His eyes didn’t meet yours, but his touch lingered longer than necessary.

Your heart stuttered so sharply it almost hurt. It fluttered against your ribs, traitorous and soft, the way it always did when he did something gentle without meaning to. The warmth of his fingers near your cheek lingered longer than the sunflower itself.

He helped you into the backseat, settled beside you without hesitation, and closed the door. You thought he’d pull away once the engine started. You thought he’d sit back in his own thoughts like always.

But he didn’t. He pulled you close, gently but without question, and you leaned against his chest. His arm wrapped around you, fingers curling slightly against your side, grounding you. He held you the entire ride. And for the first time in days, the ache in your chest quieted.

“Where are we going?” You couldn’t help but ask, giving in to what your body currently needed and letting yourself lean onto his firm chest for once.

“Must you always ask irrelevant questions?” Hongjoong sighed.

You scoffed softly, thumping on his chest lightly. “How do I know you’re not leading me to my death?“

“Are you stupid?” Hongjoong snapped, his eyes widening slightly in irritation. You met them with an equal force of annoyance. He sighed exasperatedly, already sick of your antics. “One of my rest houses. It’s on the far end of the city, almost near the suburbs. You should sleep.”

“Would you still hold me when I wake up?” You croaked, not knowing what you were thinking when you blurted the words out.

His thumb, which had been idly brushing against your arm, stilled. You didn’t dare look up, didn’t even breathe, until you felt the slow, deliberate way his hand curled tighter around you. “Yes, darling,” he murmured, fixing the flower on your ear before fixing your hair.

It was infuriating, really, how a man who so easily sliced you open with his words could undo you completely with a simple touch. Your pulse betrayed you, and you didn’t dare look at him, afraid he might see just how deeply that one small act had shaken you.

You couldn’t sleep, not after that. Not while Hongjoong held you in his arms the entire time, his hand brushing your hair away from your face every fifteen minutes and he did so until the car stopped moving and he was helping you get down again.

“Easy, there,” he frowned when you took the wrong step and almost tripped.

“Don’t pretend you care now,” you raised a brow, even as your fingers curled instinctively into the fabric of his shirt.

“I don’t,” he said too quickly, too defensively. But he was still holding you like you were made of glass and you couldn’t help but fist the front of Hongjoong’s shirt. He didn’t push you away and neither did you pull away.

Surprisingly, the rest house was of modest stature, situated in the middle of a small town. It was smart, blending in would be easy. It was simple and cozy, there was the typical small kitchen, a bathroom, and one bedroom with one bed. You stared. Hongjoong stared back.

“We’ll manage,” he said as he set the bags down, looking away and avoiding eye contact. “It’s easier to keep an eye on you this way.”

You opened your mouth to object, but your mouth wasn’t cooperating with your mouth today. “I-I'd love to sleep with you,” you blurted out without thinking.

Hongjoong froze mid-step, one brow raising with almost comical precision. It would’ve been endearing since you’ve never seen the usually poised man this caught-off guard before, but right now, you wanted to dig a hole, crawl in it, and never see the light of day again.

“I mean sleep as in literally sleep–I didn’t, I meant to say I don’t mind sleeping with you, uh, literally—oh my God,” you stammered, hands flying up to cover your face in pure panic.

“Why don’t you, uh, relax on the balcony while I do this?” Hongjoong said, and you didn’t miss the smirk on his face as he turned back to the bag he was unpacking.

You slept facing opposite sides that night. But somehow, the air between you was tighter than before. You lay stiffly on your back, eyes on the ceiling, acutely aware of every tiny shift in the sheets with each of his movements. “Can you stop fidgeting too much?” Hongjoong clicked his tongue. “I’m not going to eat you.”

You scoffed softly. “You don’t hear me complain about your awful breathing sounds.”

“You want me to stop breathing, then?”

“That’s literally not what I said,” you turned sharply toward him, only to find him already watching you. The two of you blinked at each other in silence. Eventually, you turned away again, cheeks burning, pulling the covers over your head.

You tried to find a comfortable position to sleep on, tossing and turning until your body felt right, but when the right angle had your leg up on Hongjoong’s by accident, he didn’t move, and neither did you.

And when you woke up the next day with your arm wrapped around his chest with his own arm cradling your head to his neck, you both didn’t say a word about it, but he didn’t move, and neither did you. “Hongjoong,” you rasped, half of your brain still dead from the world. “...Joong.”

“Hmm?” He hummed huskily from sleep, the vibrations of his chest traveling straight to your spine.

“I’m hungry,” you said. “Haven’t eaten since last night.”

You felt him turn his head, his lips touching your hairline directly, the warmth of it searing on your skin. “Five more minutes,” he replied hoarsely. “Can you do that for me?”

You nod groggily while he molded you closer to him, your cheek pressing just a little firmer to the warm space beneath his collarbone. “Good girl,” he whispered softly, low, and utterly wrecked by sleep.

Your body tensed like someone had just poured ice water down your head. Your eyes snapped open as you felt your throat tighten, not daring to move or breathe too loud. You just lay there, heart hammering wildly in your chest, trying to pretend like you hadn’t just short-circuited. “Are you drinking my coffee?” he snapped at you the next day, catching sight of your cup. “Again?”

Just like that, the both of you were back to bickering like normal. “It’s not my fault you bought me that shitty sugar-free crap that tastes like nothing,” you said, sipping smugly. “Plus, your coffee tastes better.” He crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes in annoyance. “It’s black with three shots of espresso. You can’t handle that.” “I can handle you, can’t I? Nothing worse than that.” He scoffed loudly in disbelief, muttering about how the younger generation was disrespectful before he snatched the cup and handed you a water bottle instead. “Hydrate before you pass out on me.”

You frowned, fully irritated at your caffeine being stolen. “Hey, I wasn’t don—” “And you call that breakfast?” He looked pointedly at your sad-looking toast. “It’s no wonder why I mistake your brain for an ornament sometimes.” You didn’t even get a chance to shoot back at his arrogance before he rolled his eyes but took your plate, setting down a neatly packed bento box. “Eat something that’s actually worth eating. Fuck’s sake, do I really have to do everything around here?”

The both of you went on like that for days, and as maddening as Hongjoong was, you were somehow thankful for how normal everything felt, though now, the change between you and Hongjoong was starting to become evident.

“How long would it take for you to clean this entire house?” He asked one day out of the blue. He stared disapprovingly at the phone in your hand. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was riling you up just to get a reaction out of you.

Your eyes ticked, but you didn’t look up at him. “It depends on how many helpers you want me to hire.”

“Why would you hire cleaners?” Hongjoong frowned.

“You asked.”

He scoffed, clearly displeased at the response. “No, I asked you. If you’re going to live here, you might as well do something that lessens the burden you put on me.”

“I did,” you shot back, finally looking up, mildly offended at the insinuation. “I made you dinner every night, one that you refused to eat.”

“Who told you I didn’t?” He raised a brow. Your expression froze, but before you could say anything, he waved a hand. “Anyway, you still need to clean. If I’m paying for your shit, I need something in return.”

Your mind was still reeling at the things unsaid between the lines. “Why the hell would I be doing free labour for you?”

“Well—”

You cut him off, refusing to go down. “I just got poisoned, in case you forgot. I should be resting, for God’s sake.”

“And I took you here to recuperate,” he replied sarcastically. “What now, then?”

“What about the times I had to deal with your grumpy ass? I don’t see you paying for my mental state.” You retorted back, putting your phone away to stand up to him.

He paused, blinking repeatedly in thought. “I could get you a therapist.”

“Yes,” you smiled brightly, a little too brightly. “I could also hire helpers to clean this house.”

His ears and neck redden in sheer frustration, and from here, you could see his mind malfunction slowly. “Shut up,” he muttered, refusing to admit you one-upped him.

“Well, why don’t you shut me up, then?”

You stilled, realizing what you just insinuated. His lips quirked, smug and amused, like he’d won a round you didn’t realize you were playing as he shook his head.

The nighttimes weren’t any better either. It was like bickering was both of yours’ defense mechanisms. “Turn off the light,” you yawn from under the covers.

“You turn it off,” Hongjoong replies from his side, brows raised in defiance. “You got in bed last.”

You groan, swing your legs over dramatically, but just as you reach the switch, the light clicks off behind you. You turn and find Hongjoong smirking, holding a small remote control in his hand. “We’re supposed to be a team here,” you hissed. “There is no “I” in team.”

“No, but there is in idiot,” he grinned.

Your mouth dropped, charging at him to hit him over and over again with a pillow, and he didn’t even let out a single sound as he deflected your so-called attacks. You huffed, trying to push off him, but the sheets had other plans. And truth be told, so did some strange, traitorous part of you.

Eventually, you both gave up, tangled under the blankets, breaths evening out against shared warmth. Once again, neither of you moved. In the hush that followed, you felt his thumb barely brush against your arm where it rested across his chest. You didn’t speak. You didn’t need to.

And it would have stayed like that if it weren’t for the heavy weight that settled on your chest in the middle of the night. Literally. When you opened your eyes, an arm was pressing down your chest and you were met with Hongjoong’s glaring eyes.

“What—”, you were about to say when he covered your mouth hurriedly. He puts his finger to his lip to shush you and in your peripheral, you could see his arm slowly raising up a gun as he pointed at the door. Your eyes widen and your heart drops - someone was in the house.

Hongjoong didn’t say a word. He shifted, slow and precise, the mattress barely creaking as he slipped off it and tiptoed towards the door. You clutched the sheets to your chest, your breath lodged somewhere in your throat as the door clicked open. It was silent; too silent.

Bang. Bang. Pause. Bang. Bang.

Your ears rang. You flinched with each shot, your hands shaking as you sat in the dark, unable to move, unable to breathe. You shut your eyes, covering your eyes to will all the sounds to stay distant, the reality of who Hongjoong was dawning on you. It was just a couple of weeks ago when you asked him whether he had killed or not.

The door creaked open again, slower this time. You jumped, expecting the worst, but Hongjoong stepped in quietly, expression unreadable, but the blood spattered across his cheek told you more than words ever could. The gun was nowhere to be found.

He didn’t speak as he walked to the bed, just sat down at the edge and looked at you, eyes searching. You reached out, wiping the blood off gently. He closed his eyes at the touch, but it was enough. No words were exchanged, and there was nothing either of you could say that would ease the fear that settled in your gut.

So instead, he slipped under the covers again, pulled you into his chest, arms wound tightly around your body, trembling just a little. You closed your eyes, your hands digging onto his hand so hard, your fingertips might as well embed themselves on his skin.

“I wish my creator would tenderly wrap me in their own clothes to keep me sane and protected,” you murmured in the silence of the night. “God has abandoned us and my uncle was a cruel substitute.”

“Should we choose to remain here together, would you forget the world that’s waiting outside?” Hongjoong’s hand held yours just as tight. ”Would you let the world fall away, if only for a while?” The world has fallen the moment I set my eyes on you. You nodded, shivering when he tucked a finger under your chin, pulling your face closer to his to press the softest of kisses upon your lips as if the both of you had been holding your breath for years, and this, it was the first exhale. If only for a while.

You woke to an emptiness you hadn’t expected. The bed was still warm where he’d lain, but without Hongjoong’s arms around you, you felt oddly cold. But that wasn’t what woke you up. It was the voices that came from the living room, one of which was Hongjoong’s, and you didn’t have to listen in to know that he was in a heated argument with someone.

You tiptoed out quietly, careful not to make a sound, peeking from behind the hallway wall. Hongjoong lounged on the couch like it was his throne, legs spread, an elbow draped over the armrest with a smirk that screamed arrogance, like danger wrapped in lazy elegance.

The man standing in front of him, however, was anything but calm. He was tall, broad-shouldered, about the same age as Hongjoong, and radiating heat like a bonfire about to explode. His fists were clenched at his sides, jaw tight with restraint.

“You’ve got some nerve,” the stranger ground out. “Keeping her hidden this whole time like some secret you planned to hoard. If my men didn’t hear the gunshots the other day, I wouldn’t have known, you sick fuck.”

Your breath hitched. They were talking about you. Hongjoong chuckled, crossing his legs exaggeratedly. “The only regret I have is that I didn’t bring suppressors. We would have been out of here before you knew it. ”

“You bastard,” the tall man gritted his teeth, stepping closer to Hongjoong. “This is my territory, you don’t get to waltz in here with my niece and pretend I wouldn’t kill you for it.”

Your ears rang at two words - territory and niece. This man was in the same business as Hongjoong was, and apparently you were this man’s niece. Slowly, you stepped out from behind the hallway wall, the silence in the room growing razor-sharp with each step.

Hongjoong’s back stiffened, but the other man’s posture tenses completely at the sight of you. “Y/N,” he whispered, as if disbelieving he was seeing you in the flesh. “It’s really you…”

You stared at the man closely. He looked familiar, it clawed at the edges of a memory you didn’t know you still had. It wasn’t the way he moved; it was the way his eyes mirrored someone else’s eyes that you thought you’d never see again after all these years - your father’s.

And then, it hits you. You remembered the way his huge hands held yours every time he offered to babysit when both of your parents worked. His younger, puppy-like features were slowly coming to life in your head. “Uncle Yunho,” you blurted, eyes wide.

Yunho’s head jerked up, like he hadn’t dared hope you'd remember. “Yeah,” he said hoarsely. “It’s me, kid.”

Your knees nearly buckled, threatening to fall under the weight of the missing family that you could have had instead of your other uncle. Hongjoong was immediately by your side, catching you in his arms and holding you close and sitting you down beside him. “You can’t just come barging in here like you did,” he hissed. “You’re in my house, I could kill you and no one would know.”

“I’m her blood, you blithering fool,” Yunho’s lips twisted into fury. “You’re the idiot that dragged her into this mess when she had a family - me.”

Hongjoong’s expression darkened. “You weren’t there---”

“And you think you were the better option?” Yunho growled. “You’re like, what? A good thirteen years or so older than her? You’re too damn old to be with her!”

That made Hongjoong stand, slow and deliberate, his stance loose but lethal. “And who the fuck are you to tell me that? You weren’t there when shit hit the fan, don’t get too cocky now.”

“I would have been if you didn’t hide her from me,” Yunho scowled bitterly.

You barely registered your own shallow breathing, still stuck on the fact that your father’s older brother was there all along. All this time, you thought you were alone - that you had no one. Yunho’s eyes followed the sound, and when he saw you, all the anger on his face softened instantly.

He was about to walk towards you, but Hongjoong quickly raised a hand to stop him. “One more step and I swear I’ll end you right here,” he snarled. If you weren’t sitting beside him, you wouldn’t have noticed the way his eyes shifted into something a little more desperate.

Yunho scoffed, crossing his arms. “I wouldn’t act like this if I were you, Kim. You’ve had her in your manor all this time. By mafia standards, you should’ve married her within the first month. Why haven’t you? Did you want to keep her locked up like a secret no one else can touch? Or are you just dragging her through the mud?”

You flinched, the implication sinking in like stones in your gut. You immediately locked eyes with Hongjoong whose expression dropped, shaking his head ever so slightly as you stared at each other. That was right, why hasn’t Hongjoong married you yet? Come to think of it, the both of you haven’t even talked about anything marriage related - the date, the venue, the vows—hell, not even a promise.

Just tension, stolen touches, sleepless nights and a thousand unsaid things hanging heavy in the air. You swallowed thickly, trying not to let the sting of Yunho’s words show, but it was too late. Or worse, was he planning to secretly give you back to your uncle after all?

“Don’t listen to him,” he said tightly, crossing the room in three strides. His arm wrapped around you possessively, like shielding you from Yunho would shield you from the doubt unraveling in your chest. “She’s mine, Jeong. Get lost. It’s not like that, and you know it.”

Yunho’s lips pressed into a thin line. But he relented, lifting his hands in a gesture of peace. “Fine,” he muttered, then turned to you, his expression softening. “I’ll be back.”

You hesitated as you watched your uncle walk away, but something tugged at your heart. You pried yourself free from Hongjoong’s tight, possessive arms, despite his protests, to run as fast as you could to follow Yunho out. The chill of the morning rain bit at your skin as you stepped into the yard. “Wait, please!”

Yunho turned to face you fully. The hardness melted from his face, and in its place was something unbearably gentle. He completely halted in his steps, letting the rain soak through as he watched your pitiful form catch up to him. “Y/N–”

“There’s something I don’t understand,” you murmured, voice unsure. “I-I needed you when I was alone, I had no one. But why now? Why didn’t you ever come for me?”

He sighed, taking his trench coat off to gingerly put it over your head as a deterrent for the pouring rain. “I did,” he said quietly. “Believe me, I did. I never stopped. Even if I didn’t find you here, I still wouldn’t have stopped.”

And that, that was what broke you. Tears filled your eyes, sadness and relief pouring over you in waves. “Are you…in the same business as Hongjoong?” You asked wearily. “Were my parents?”

He pursed his lips, patting your head. It made your tears flow faster. Yunho had your father’s face, albeit older and more rounded. “There are so many things you don’t know,” he said softly. “Things you would have if you would’ve been with me when your parent’s died. It’s better this way. I’m still enraged that that bastard hid you from me, but he’ll keep you safe.”

But what did you know at this point? It was what plagued your mind the entire walk inside the house after Yunho had left after promising to catch up on lost time. You clutched the wet, dripping coat that still carried Yunho’s familiar scent in your hands that wrapped around your senses, nostalgia hitting you full-force.

You didn’t look up at Hongjoong, the haze of all the memories - of what could have been - attacking your mind. “Why didn’t you tell me?” You began, voice cracking, looking up at him with emotionless eyes. “You knew and—”

“Would you have gone with him if you knew?” Hongjoong cut off, the familiar sharpness in his eyes pinning you from where you stood.

“I don’t know that,” you replied sarcastically. “How could I give you something I had no idea about the entire time?”

“Oh, for the love of fucking God, Y/N. This, this is what pisses me off about you the most,” he snapped, stepping close, his gaze darkening. “Contrary to your belief, I’m not as callous as you deem me to be, and there are reasons for the things that I do around here—”

“And what about me?” Your hands balled at your sides. “What about the life I was robbed of? You don’t know what I’ve been through, you prick, the things that I had to endure. Yunho was right - you don’t want to marry me, in fact, you fucking hate me, don’t you? I didn’t even want any of this in the first place!” For the first time, Hongjoong’s expression fell, and you didn’t know what to feel about it. He was a beautiful man with a soul full of venom and a heart you weren’t convinced actually beat, but right now, his expression only told you one thing - I do, I do know what you’ve been through. His hand twitched at his side, and the muscle in his jaw jumped. “Don’t you dare say that.”

“Why not?” You seethed, shoving him backward with both hands. “Because it’s true, isn’t it? You had no plans in marrying me, but then again I was nothing but sold goods to you, I wouldn’t be surprised if you end up killing me in a ditch somewhere—”

Something snapped in him. He pushed you back until you stumbled against the wall. The air was electric. “Shut your mouth,” he seethed, but his voice was breaking, furious and wounded all at once. “You would have gone with Yunho, I don’t want you to go with him. You faltered, taken aback by how possessive he sounded. "I don’t need to see you walking away from me when we had just begun. You want to know why I didn’t tell you? I’ve already given up enough and I’m not giving you up again.”

Again? He just stood there, panting, one hand curled in a fist over his chest like the words had ripped something open in him. “You wouldn’t understand,” he snarled, shaking his head vehemently. “You never do.”

The silence afterward was deafening. You stared at him, chest heaving, tears hot and furious in your eyes, the confusion swirling in your head even more. It might be part of why your mouth moved on its own in either the best or worst decision of your life. “So make me,” you whispered in quiet desperation. “I’m so tired of being kept in the dark, I know you’re hiding things from me, make me understand—-”

He surged forward without warning, cupping your jaw as his mouth found yours like it had been searching, starving, waiting across lifetimes. The kiss was bruising, breath-stealing like he needed to taste the ache in your throat and the anger in your blood just to prove you were real. You gasped against him, and it was his undoing.

Your back hit the wall again, but it didn’t matter anymore. Not when his lips softened slightly, tracing the corner of your mouth like an apology. Not when his breath was hot and reverent against your cheek, your jaw, your throat. His forehead fell against yours, both of you breathless. “Tell me to stop,” he rasped, voice shaking as his thumb brushed your lip, swollen from his kiss. “Tell me now and I will.”

But your fingers were already curling into his shirt, pulling him close. “I can’t,” you whispered, voice wavering. “Don’t make me.”

And that was all it took. Your lips refused to part from his as he pulled you to the couch, there was no way the both of you were reaching the bedroom, your clothes slowly peeling themselves away from your bodies all the while your tongues clashed against one another. His hands roamed with reverence, memorizing every tremble, every sigh. You didn’t know where you ended and he began - just that the space between your bodies was no longer enough.

“Oh, fuck,” his lust-addled voice sounded through the hush whispers of the intimacy you both found yourselves in. “You’re beautiful, I knew you’d be, fuck…”

You couldn’t even have the nerve to cover your naked body as you stood in front of him; not when he was looking at you like you were the only salvation left in a world gone mad. He grabbed your hips, positioning you until you were straddling him as he sat plush on the couch. “You don’t have to do a thing, darling, I’ll take care of you,” he pressed a thumb on your swollen lips. “Would you let me?”

You nodded, feeling feverish in your head as he placed his hand on your hips, his hardness poking you in the spot where you wanted him the most. “Y-Yeah,” you said. “Please, I-I need you.”

The world could wait. Right now, it was just the two of you both bared, bruised, and still reaching for each other in the dark. He lifted your hips up, lowering you slowly onto his aching cock until your foreheads were clashing with each other. “Y/N,” he whispered, straining, summoning chills through your ears. “I’ll make it up to you next time, I’m not going to last. It’s been a while for me.”

You tilted your head, biting your lips to stop the lewd sounds threatening to come out from you. “W-What do you mean? You haven’t been with o-others?”

Hongjoong shook his head with an earnest smile. “No. Why would I when I have you?”

Your eye contact didn’t break even when Hongjoong pushed your plump ass to grind on him, your eyes fluttering shut as you moaned out earnestly. Your fingers tangled in his hair, his breath warm at your collarbone, and when his name left your lips, it prompted him to snap his hips up to meet your grinding.

“Hongjoong, ngh, fuck,” you gasped out, mouth slacked open at the force of his thrusts, your breasts bouncing their way freely at the pace he set. “H-Hongjoong—Joong.”

You both finally let yourselves feel it all. Not just the passion, but the ache of the longing between you both. You held his face between your hands when his eyes fluttered closed, and for once, he looked unguarded. “Mmm, ah, yes, yes, yes,” were all the sounds you could make amidst the skin slapping against skin as Hongjoong continuously pulled you up and down on his cock. “More?” Hongjoong’s voice trembled at the pleasure clouding his brain. “You can’t leave me, alright? Not when I’m making you feel so good like this.”

You nodded, mouth still open, snapping your eyes close in the pleasure of Hongjoong’s nails digging in your hips, scratching a line all the way to your chest until his hands were grabbing onto both of your plush tits. “So fucking good,” he growled, his other hand traveling to your head, grabbing your hair. “Come here.”

Your lips met into a feverish kiss, your heated moans of lust and longing being swallowed by Hongjoong’s sinful mouth, and when you subconsciously squeeze his impaling cock, it was his turn to groan into your lips and bite onto your lower lip until you opened to let his wild tongue mess with yours. The moans that fell from the both of you created a dizzying sound in combination of the wet tongue kiss and the slapping of his balls up your ass.

“Touch me, please,” you begged, grabbing onto his hand down to your throbbing clit. “T-Touch m-me, I need to come, Joong, p-please.”

“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me,” he groaned, immediately drawing circles on your swollen bud, instantly drawing a garbled scream from you. “That’s it, baby, fuck me. Ride my fucking cock, yes.”

You had not once paused from bouncing, continues fucking yourself ardently onto his thick, intruding cock until you were nothing but a senseless doll. “You don’t understand how long I’ve wanted this,” he rasped, his voice rough and uneven, his lips kissing and sucking every surface of your skin he could claim.

“I’ve wanted you long before the day you looked me in the eye at that dining table. Each day was a risk I couldn’t afford to take, but God, I wanted you anyway. Every day. In every fucking way.”

He kissed you again, deeper, needier. It wasn’t just hunger - it was reprieve. Years of restraint burning away in the heat of a single truth finally spoken aloud. You were what he wanted. Always had been.

“Joong, a-ah, that feels so good,” you moaned out, all sense of mind gone from the feeling of him finally ravishing you the way you always wanted. “Just like that, say my name,” he gritted out, cupping your face tenderly in contrast to this thrusts, his eyes lidded and desperate. “I’ve waited so long to hear you say my damn name, baby, please, I’m begging you.”

“Hongjoong,” you let out, loud and clear. His cock twitched in your cunt, but you weren’t done yet. This was a man you had no problem seeing all of you. “Hongjoong, Hongjoong, Hongjoong.”

Soon enough, you exploded. It wasn’t the delicious rubbing of his fingertips in between young legs that or how deep his cock fucked that undid you, though that was a huge factor, but it was the way he kissed you, the way he looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky for him to admire. “Oh, I’m com—Hongjoong, Joong, Joong—”

Hongjoong didn’t last much longer. With his final thrusts, Hongjoong lifted his hips to fuck into you until all the both of you had was mind-blowing blankness fulled with heat and lust. Overstimulation coiled in your groin as your eyes rolled in the back of your head, your little whimpers spurring Hongjoong on until he came with a loud groan and spilled inside of you.

Everything slowed down with you slumped completely onto Hongjoong’s rising chest, meeting yours as you both tried to catch your breaths. The sex was fast, but it was all the both of you needed. “Good girl,” he whispered, turning your face to his for a quick kiss. “My good girl—hey, you don’t have to move yet, stay.”

You pulled out anyway, whimpering slightly at the sensation of Hongjoong’s cum dripping onto your thighs as you bent down to give him a kiss in return before sitting comfortably on his lap and laying your head on his chest, resting your head onto the crook of his neck as his arm quickly wrapped around you protectively. “It’s okay,” you whispered, your eyes slowly closing, your breath evening.

“You want to stay like this?” Hongjoong asked fondly, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your back.

But for naught. Sleep had caught on to you and the last thing you felt was Hongjoong carrying you as he chuckled affectionately at your drowsy state. It was the most peace you’ve felt in a while.

Just like everything in your life, nothing good seemed to last forever. In the beginning, everything was smooth sailing. You and Hongjoong went back to the manor the next day, and it was nothing short of chaos the moment you stepped in the house where everyone was already waiting by the entrance. Seonghwa was the one who greeted you at the front door and his brows almost reached his hairline with how close you stood next to Hongjoong.

“The hell’s wrong with you?” Hongjoong asked sharply. “Why are you looking at us like that?”

Seonghwa raised his hands, blinking innocently. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

You frowned, not noticing the way you linked your arms with Hongjoong’s, but everyone did. Not one step inside the manor and everyone was already looking at the both of you. Jongho bent to grab both of your suitcases, but paused when he took one look at the both of you. “Huh,” he whispered. “Weird.”

Even Mingi who greeted his father, and you albeit stiffly, raised a brow, but opted not to say anything, just walking away while looking back at the both of you repeatedly like he was seeing what he wasn’t supposed to be seeing. You and Hongjoong looked at each other, thoroughly confused, but shrugged it off.

And that’s when San walked by, carrying a tray of cookies you loved so much, only to freeze when he saw Hongjoong gently placing a hand on your back to guide you past a stray step. He blinked over and over again until all the cookies plopped down towards the floor. “I’m sorry, what have you done to my favourite dysfunctional couple?”

You were horrified, mouth agape as you stared at all the sugary goodness on the floor. “My cookies,” you frowned, tugging at Hongjoong’s sleeve. “Joong…”

It only got worse when Hongjoong leaned down, pressed a kiss to your cheek nonchalantly and murmured, “I have to work for a couple of hours to catch up while we were gone. I’ll be back to spoil you rotten, yeah? I’ll see if I can order cookies after, so be good.”

You blinked, stunned, and so did literally everyone else in the hallway. The silence that followed could’ve cracked glass. You stood there, flustered, a hand over your cheek where he just kissed you in front of everyone.

Wooyoung took one look at you, one look at Hongjoong’s retreating form as he walked away, before letting out a screech so loud and unholy that you covered your ears immediately. “Oh my fucking God, what was that?” Wooyoung shouted, flailing like a game show host on a sugar high. “Did you just call him Joong?”

But that was it, because after that, it was like everything never even happened. You weren’t sure what you expected. Hongjoong pulling you aside just to hold you again like he did that night? Instead, life resumed as if nothing had changed. He never really did get you those cookies nor did he spend time with you afterwards anymore.

He wasn’t snarling or glaring at you anymore, that was for sure, but he always kept you close even in the small gestures like sitting beside you or holding your hand, but that was it. You still slept in separate rooms, and there were no more whispers in the dark, no more soft kisses, no more of him asking for five more minutes in bed before he got up. No one questioned it.

It started small, you almost convinced yourself you imagined it. During meals, he no longer sat beside you. He’ll speak, he’ll nod, but his body always angles away from you. That was when the absence of touch came next. Once, Hongjoong’s hand would find your lower back or brush yours when passing you a glass, but now, he didn’t reach out, didn’t accidentally graze your skin.

One afternoon, you entered the library. You hadn’t even called out his name, but the moment he saw you, he stood, gathered his things, and left. It was when his cold formality started again, never with warmth, and when he gave you instructions, he didn’t say your name. When you responded, his eyes would flicker, but he never truly looked at you.

By mafia standards, you should’ve married her within the first month.

Yunho’s words sank deeper than you wanted to admit. They curled under your skin like thorns. What if he was right? What if Hongjoong had never planned to marry you at all? Your eyes burned, and you blinked furiously to push the sting away. He had kissed you, held you, had made love to you. And now, he was walking around as if he hadn’t touched every inch of your soul.

You rubbed at your chest as if you could soothe the ache building there. What if this was it? What if this cold civility, this silence, was all he thought you were worth? Maybe he didn’t want to marry you. Maybe he never did.

Then came the locked doors. You never really hung out with him when he worked, but the locked door was suspicious. He also began sending people in his place. Hongjoong no longer filled your space, he ghosted it. You couldn’t even remember the last time he told you something directly.

You weren’t stupid. You knew how this world worked, how alliances were made and unmade at the flick of a wrist, at the spill of a secret. Maybe you had just been another deal. A piece of a war you weren’t meant to survive. Which was why you barged into his office one day without bothering to knock or close the door.

He didn’t seem at all surprised at your intrusion. He sighed, lowering his glasses and looking at you with tired eyes. “What’s this about, darling?”

“Do you regret us? Touching me? Kissing me?” You started, unable to stop the spiral now. “Or are you just pretending it didn’t happen so I don’t get any stupid ideas l-like marriage or a future?”

He didn’t answer. A bitter laugh escaped your lips, barely a sound. “I can’t believe you,” you murmured, your voice cracking around the edges. “Are you telling me what I felt was nothing? You almost had me fooled there, Hongjoong. I thought for sure hope wasn’t just a word anymore—”

“Can you not? How about this,” he sighed, placing his hands on your cheeks to cup it like he did before, and your traitorous body leaned onto his touch. “I’ll take you out later, okay? Let me just finish working. Sounds good?”

“Are you going to marry me?” You blurted out instead. He stiffened. You felt it immediately his arms didn’t fall away, but his hold loosened just enough for the space between you to feel colder than it had before. “Hongjoong?”

It spiraled. Your brain wouldn’t stop spinning. You didn’t remember pushing him and running away to the comfort of your room after locking the door. All you remember was his refusal to answer and look at you. And the way he never did take you out after.

And the worst of all, everyone had noticed. You had lost your spark, that light in your eyes, that drive in your walk. The anxiety, the paranoia, was slowly eating you alive. You were falling apart at the seams, and no one dared to say it out loud. But you could feel it; this immense pressure building in your chest like a ticking bomb.

Another thing was you were also starting to notice the way everyone was looking at you. It wasn’t quite pity, no, but it was akin to the end. To be fair, if Hongjoong was to keep acting like this, the end was nigh, indeed. What if this was all a game? What if he was keeping you close for power? Or pity?

You were thirty-three when your heart had failed you in a way that stayed. Your reflection in the mirror didn’t even look like you anymore. It looked like someone trying to be worthy of being chosen. Marrying Hongjoong was a want now, not a necessity, and that broke you.

And then, one day, it all seemed to shatter. You were passing by Hongjoong’s office, an excuse you’ve been telling yourself just to see if you were going to have a small glimpse of him, when you heard it. Voices low, urgent, and hushed. One of them was Hongjoong’s.

“It’s being finalized, then?” Hongjoong’s sharp, business-like voice asked.

“Yes,” Mingi replied, serious and deep. “I reckon we’ll be able to make a move soon and then everything will be settled. You could let her go after.”

You froze in place, feeling like ice has been poured over you. Seonghwa sighed. “It’s just…are we really doing this? After everything? Won’t it destroy her?”

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Besides, it’s not knowledge she deserves to have, anyway. I didn’t go this far just for her to know. It’s better this way,” Hongjoong said curtly.

“Does she even know?” San’s voice now asked. “I’m confused. You both looked like you almost had it going, Joong. Why didn’t you tell her then?“

“No,” Seonghwa replied, sighing. “Hongjoong’s keeping her in the dark until all the loose ends are tied. Her bastard uncle did sign a contract after all, so technically she’s with us. It’s a good thing.”

Mingi clicked his tongue. “It shouldn’t have gone this far, Father. You’re lucky she’s still loyal after everything. You should’ve told her from the start this engagement was a fraud.”

Your heart stuttered. You covered your mouth, willing yourself to stay silent as tears started to pool on the side of your eyes.

“I still think it’s cruel,” San murmured. “Are you ever going to tell her, Hongjoong? You’re really gonna let her go? Just like that?”

There was a beat of silence that stretched for far too long before Hongjoong spoke again. “There was never supposed to be an ‘us’ anyway. It was a mistake that should have never happened.”

You couldn’t take it anymore, taking off as soon as that conversation ended. You sat on the floor of your room, knees tucked into your chest, the ache in your bones eclipsed only by the quiet, creeping devastation hollowing you out from the inside. Yunho’s words echoed in your mind like a curse you couldn’t shake. By mafia standards, you should’ve married her within the first month. Why haven’t you? Did you want to keep her locked up like a secret no one else can touch? Or are you just dragging her through the mud?

But now? Now, after hearing that conversation, after watching him pass you in the hallway like a stranger, after everyone’s pitying glances and whispered silences, it all felt so grotesquely clear - you weren’t something he was building a future with, you were someone he was using.

You tried to breathe, but it came out ragged, your chest too tight. The truth clawed at you with wild, unforgiving hands. Yunho had been right all along, and now you were stuck in a house that felt more like a mausoleum than a home with a name he would never give you and a heart he would never claim. You spent days like that, refusing to see anyone who noticed they haven’t seen your face in a while, leaving the trays of food placed on your door untouched, and only going out to use the bathroom. It was how you had accidentally left the door ajar for someone to find you, face blotchy and swollen when Jongho came in, eyes widened at your messed up state, as he helped you up to sit on the bed.

“Y/N, what happened to you?” He let out in concern. He stood up, and you thought for a second that he was giving you the space you clearly needed when you didn’t answer, but you were wrong. “I’m calling Hongjoong,” he said, already pulling out his phone. “I don’t know what happened, but you clearly need him.”

Something in your mind snapped into a quiet haze. Jongho was handsome. He was kind, and he was always there for you. For one breathless second, you wished that you could feel something, anything, other than the emptiness Hongjoong had left you with.

“Don’t call him,” you murmured, voice cracking as you reached for his hand. You looked up at Jongho, his brows furrowed in confusion. And before you could stop yourself, before you could think, you whispered, “Kiss me.”

Jongho’s entire body froze. His lips parted slightly, eyes widening, not with desire, but with shock and pity. He roze, the blood draining from his face. “Y/N, I don’t—”

“Please,” you begged. “I need to feel like I’m not losing everything—”

“Y/N?” Hongjoong’s voice suddenly crackled on the phone. “What’s going on? Jongho, what in God’s name are you doing?”

The call had connected after all, but you were done caring about Hongjoong. You grabbed Jongho’s shirt, lowering him to your lips. “I-I need to feel something, Jongho, please pretend I’m wanted,” your voice cracked.

“What the fuck is going on?” Hongjoong's voice roared through the speaker, frantic now. “I am going to skin you alive and drain your blood if you do it, don’t you dare, Jongho—”

But Jongho didn’t move. He respectfully held your shoulders, keeping you at arm’s length with utmost care. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice soft, heavy with pity but unwavering. “You don’t need more lies right now.”

On the other end of the phone, Hongjoong’s breathing was ragged, silent, tortured, like he was ready to rip through space to get to you before the line went dead. It was when you broke down, sobbing in Jongho’s arms apologizing through and through for your utterly shameful behaviour, thanking him for not taking advantage of your momentary weakness.

And then, the anger settled in. How dare Hongjoong act like that after what you overheard? What’s it to him that you wanted to kiss someone else’s lips besides his filthy ones? You remembered the way his voice sounded when told you that one dinner night that you were not to wear a ring. You should have known.

You made up your mind then - you were leaving him. You weren’t going to live trapped in the unknown. You’d spent years chained under your uncle’s care, and now under the illusion of Hongjoong’s protection, but no more. Maybe you’d stay with Yunho to start again and figure out who you really were outside of the Kim manor’s walls.

But first, you needed that damn contract. The one that bound you to Hongjoong as his property. After much deliberation, the easiest way would be to drive him out of his office long enough for him to not come back.

So you picked a fight, purposefully targeting his tendency to get possessive of you like you were his property. It spurred you on, and at first, he wasn’t budging, but when you mentioned off-handedly about the kiss you wanted from Jongho, he bit.

The effect was instant. Hongjoong instantly stopped what he was doing, his entire frame taut with tension, his eyes narrowed dangerously. “What did you say?” He asked coldly.

You bit your lip to hold your smirk back. “I said,” you drawled. “Maybe I should’ve asked Jongho to kiss me again.”

That did it. His steps toward you were slow, deliberate, dangerous. He growled low under his breath, shoving past you, practically vibrating with possessive rage. “I don’t know what game you’re playing at, but don’t test me, Y/N,” he snapped. “I’ve killed for less without blinking.”

Your heart beat erratically as you listened to Hongjoong’s furious commands to hand him his keys so he could drive off that were sounding further and further until you heard the front door slam so hard, you could practically feel it vibrate from where you were.

Perfect. Now all you had to do was find the damn contract - and whatever other secrets he’d been hiding.

Luckily for you, Hongjoong didn’t lock his cabinets. To be completely fair, nobody in their right mind - except you, apparently - would even dream of digging through his files while he wasn’t present. It was like finding a needle on a haystack, but whenever you’d recall the conversation you overheard here, it gave you a newfound sense of determination. Finally, you found it. With trembling hands, you gingerly took the contract that basically held your uncle’s life and bound you to Hongjoong. You hated your uncle for selling you, but at the same time, you couldn’t imagine not meeting Hongjoong at all.

This was it, you were done, and you were leaving. You had already packed what little you brought here and all that was left now was to burn the bridge behind you and never look back. Tears welled in your eyes, however, as you willed Hongjoong’s fond eyes as he looked at you out of your mind. Your story with him had happened, but now, it had to end.

You folded the contract resolutely. Just as you turned to leave, something fluttered from between the pages. It was a thinner piece of paper, tucked behind the contract, and it fell towards the floor, face up. You blinked in confusion, was this another part of the contract?

You crouched, hand shaky as you picked it up, but before you could touch it, you froze. Your pulse skipped, heart sinking the moment your eyes caught the title - it was a marriage contract and it had Hongjoong’s unmistakable signature on it.

You blinked once, twice, but the name didn’t change. The blood drained from your face, a sudden rush of nausea coiled in your gut with bile that started to burn your throat as you backed away from the fallen paper as if it had a contagious disease of some sort.

Was this it? The secret he’d been keeping? Your chest felt like it had caved in. No wonder he didn’t want to marry you - he literally couldn’t. He already belonged to someone else and you seeked comfort in his arms like you belonged in it when, in fact, you did not. You never did.

You ran out of the office, your pathetic tears finally falling from your eyes as you felt your heart starting to break. You didn’t bother stopping for Wooyoung, who looked genuinely worried for your state, and you pushed past a surprised Seonghwa, who was the last person you ever wanted to see besides Hongjoong.

You shoved the contract hastily in your luggage, trudging it silently towards the back door you knew nobody passed or guarded, each movement mechanical, like your soul detached itself long ago. The suitcase was filled with your clothes, but really, it's all the things you never meant to carry - bitterness and heartbreak.

You barely made it one step outside when a hand grabbed your arm from behind, spinning you unceremoniously. It was someone you never expected in a million years, and he was already waiting by the door like he knew you’d come out here. “Running away again, I see,” Mingi eyes your luggage. “Though it seems you have no plans of coming back.”

His features are etched from the same ice as his father's - cold, unreadable. He’s never spoken to you beyond what's necessary. You pulled your arm away harshly from his hold. “Not that it would matter,” you scoffed. “Hongjoong has no plans of marrying me, what’s the point?”

Realization seemed to dawn on him. “You found the certificate. Is that why Wooyoung said you’re crying?” He sighed, long and breathy, as if he wasn’t prepared for what he was about to say next. “I have to give it to you, you’re clever for driving him out of his office, but whatever it is you’re thinking, you’re dead wrong.”

You laugh once, bitter and sharp. “I saw it with my own two eyes, and the facts speak for themselves, don’t they? All he’s ever made me feel was that I was an inconvenience to him.”

“You’ve only seen what he’s allowed you to see,” Mingi says quietly. “You think my father doesn’t care about you, but Y/N, he’d sell his soul for you. For what it’s worth, we all think it should’ve never gone this far.”

“Yeah, well,” you exhaled sharply, turning to leave again. “It’s a little too late for that—”

“Don’t leave,” Mingi said, almost a whisper, almost a plea. You faltered, stunned at how he wasn’t letting you pass. He rubs his face between his hands in distress. “How about this, let me show you something, and if that still doesn’t change your mind, I’ll even help you walk away.” “Why?” You asked coldly, but followed him back to what seemed like Hongjoong’s office anyway. “You made it clear that you never liked me from the beginning.”

“Because I’m not going to let him lose you, not like this,” Mingi opened the door for you to enter. “And I never disliked you. You are my father’s one shot at the happiness he never got before, I could never dislike you for that.”

San was already there. He looked up as you entered, and your breath caught. In his hands was the very marriage certificate that had shattered you just moments ago. He eyed your luggage, resignation clear in his eyes. “Y/N, I am so, so sorry,” his voice cracked when you refused to meet his eye. “You deserve to know the truth before you walk away, at least.”

Mingi sighed and walked over to the far side of the desk. He reached under the edge, clicking something underneath. “This,” he held out a small recording device. “Is for protection and insurance whenever he invites people over here. It never stops recording. I’m sure you know where I’m going with this.”

And with that, he presses play. You didn’t speak, just listened. At first, you heard nothing, just pure static and a couple of movements before San fast forwarded it, stopping when he was satisfied.

“She’s beautiful, Hwa, my goodness. Her photos don’t do her justice,” Hongjoong’s familiar voice sounded all over the room, slightly startling you. “I-I must’ve looked like a fool during dinner. How am I supposed to pretend that I’m not head over heels in love with her?”

“You did look like a fool,” Seonghwa’s voice said next, deadpanned. “It’s embarrassing, Joong. Your own son had to tell you to stop staring.”

Head over heels? It didn’t make sense. Not when he avoided you for the longest time, not when he stood silent while you begged for clarity. San started fast forwarding again.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” The voice was unmistakably Hongjoong’s sharp, furious, and barely restrained. “Flirting with her in front of me? Do you want me to ship you back in Suwon, you uncultured swine?”

Wooyoung’s familiar laughter shrieked all over the room so loud, Mingi rolled his eyes. “My God, Dad, you are so down bad. I’ve never seen you so jealous in my life. I have no plans to steal your wife, relax.”

“That’s not the point,” Hongjoong snapped. “Don’t touch her like that again. Don’t talk to her like she’s anyone but mine. Do you understand me?”

You stood there, frozen. Your hands trembled slightly as you remembered that day so clearly in your head. San gave Mingi a glance before silently playing the recording again.

“I fucked up,” Honjoong started, but it was in a voice you’ve never heard on him before, and for some reason, it hurt your heart to hear. “I shouldn’t have shouted at her during dinner, she looked at me like I’d hit her. And I-I hate myself for it, she probably hates me—”

“You think?” Jongho’s voice responded, unusually sharp. “She looked like she wanted the floor to swallow her whole. Seriously, what were you thinking?”

“I shouldn’t have pushed the plate like that, but it had avocados in it,” Hongjoong’s voice faltered, like he was trying to rein himself in.

There was a pause in the recording, and in your head as well. You felt like you were about to faint. “Avocados?” San in the recording asked, clearly confused.

Hongjoong sighed heavily and you could practically hear him pacing in his office. “She’s allergic to avocados. Allergic enough for anaphylactic shock.”

“You could’ve just said something,” San replied, dry and disbelieving. “That wasn’t just over the line, Joong. It was humiliating.”

“That’s why she reacted like that when I told her about the dressing,” Jongho commented off-handedly. “But still, you scared her. Hell, you scared all of us.”

“I was scared as well, that’s why I’m furious,” Hongjoong snapped. “I clearly told the staff to not put avocados in her food. How was I supposed to tell her without arousing suspicion of the fucker that did it?”

That night, you’d gone to bed wondering if he hated you. Meanwhile, he was probably pacing the floor in this very room, wondering if you were still breathing, wondering if he should have just shouted your allergy across the table rather than risk letting you eat what could’ve killed you. “You okay to keep going?” San asked softly. When you nodded stiffly, he pressed play again.

“Did you order food out?” Wooyoung’s voice sounded out this time. “Oh, that actually looks good, can I have some—”

A loud smack can be heard in the background before Wooyoung’s yelp. “No,” Hongjoong’s light, almost boyish tone, smugly denied. “My love made this for me. Can you guys believe it? She’s literally perfect in every way, she even cooks well, too. A literal angel in every sense, I tell you.”

“Hold on, is that why she’s been hanging around the kitchen late?” Wooyoung asked, confused. “But she looks so down everytime—she doesn’t know you’re eating them, does she?”

There was a pause before Seonghwa spoke next, his voice quieter. “You have to tell her, Joong. Me and San have to carry the burden of seeing her tears the next day every single time we pretend to throw away the food the next day. She makes them with love, you know?”

Silence. Then Hongjoong sighed, deep and hollow. “God, I want to, but not yet. You know there’s a mole in the staff. If I let on that I care too much, it puts a target on her back. It’s the only way to protect her without tipping my hand.”

There was a pause. “She’s so bright when she cooks, and I never tell her,” he continued heavily. “I said nothing, like I always do. So for now, all I could do is savour her food, you know? It keeps my longing away for now.”

Something in your chest cracked. You remembered those nights. You never imagined he cherished every bite in silence, keeping up a mask to protect you from shadows you didn’t even know were looming. Suddenly, it transitioned into a conversation you knew far too well, the one you heard before you ran away to the playground.

“But you can’t keep doing this to keep giving her the cold shoulder, Joong,” Seonghwa clicked his tongue. “She’s too perceptive and you know she'll find out, what are you going to do then?”

“Give me time,” Hongjoong’s tone shifted into something darker. “We’re so close to caging in Yoo Jaehwan, that bastard ruined her life. Please, no one can know for now. I have to make sure he’ll pay for that car accident that almost cost her and Yeosang.”

You gasped audibly, almost tripping at what you just heard. There was only one car accident that had Yeosang and you in it, did this run deeper than you initially thought?

“She won’t be safe forever, you know that. San’s working on Mingi’s intel for the hit and run. It was damn near impossible to find who hit her parents back then. You think Jaehwan knows?”

“There’s no denying it. That bastard killed them. She will be safer here, so please, watch over her for me. I will never forgive myself if something happens to her. She’s my everything—who’s there?”

And all this time, the man you thought didn’t care,the man whose cold shoulder and distant silence had crushed you, had been carrying the weight of it all in secret. You shook your head in denial, if this wasn’t enough, your uncle had something to do with your parents’ death as well. “Make it stop,” you begged. “I-I can’t—”

“I’m sorry,” Mingi apologized, and you could see he was genuine this time. “We have to keep going. This is why Father was the way he was with you. You have to know.”

You heard a glass clink against another, followed by the unmistakable sound of Hongjoong’s tired hiccup, more human than you'd ever heard him, before the familiar sigh of Seonghwa followed. “That’s enough,” he gently coaxed. “You’re drunk, Joong. You’re half gone–”

“Half gone? I haven’t been whole since I lied to her,” Hongjoong’s drunk and pained voice slurred. “She ran away from me, Hwa. And I deserve it. I was prepared for her hate, but not her absence. When I couldn’t find her, I was so damn scared, none of you even understood.”

Hongjoong swallowed more alcohol. “I love her, Seonghwa. I love her more than this house, more than the empire, more than anything. But if she knew what I’ve done, she’d never stay.”

You clutch the edge of the table like it’s the only thing holding you upright. “There’s still time to tell her,” Seonghwa advised. “Mingi still thinks you shouldn’t hide this.”

“What if she realizes I’m the reason her life turned to hell?” Hongjoong cried out in melancholy. “I’m terrified she’ll disappear for good when she finds out what I’ve done and made the selfish decision to make her mine—”

“But she doesn’t know that,” Seonghwa said softly. “She doesn’t know you held her hand the whole time in the hospital. You did it to protect her. You married her, for God’s sake.”

Your knees nearly gave out. That hand - warm, calloused, unmoving but steady - had been the only thing tethering you to life. That hand was the only one that stayed when no one else did. Tears sprung to your eyes, that hand had been your lifeline, and after all this time, you had been his.

“I married her to settle a score. But somewhere along the line, I just,” Hongjoong sniffled. “I just loved her. Every day I don’t tell her, she drifts further from me. And I-I don’t know how to fix it.”

You swallowed audibly when the recording paused. There was only one question lingering in your head, one that San read on your face but refused to acknowledge. Instead, he reached forward and pressed play. The room was silent again, except for the soft static of the next recording beginning to play.

“I’ll bow to your king when he shows himself,” your voice played out this time, clipped and cut. You cringed internally. You remember how liberated you felt after that day, but now you were about to find out what happened after you stormed out.

Seonghwa and Mingi were in the room that day and you were expecting the three of them to talk about your utter disrespect, but you were not expecting Hongjoong’s laughter, loud, bubbly, and full of mirth after a few seconds of you walking away.

“Well, would you look at that,” Mingi snorted, but even through the recording, you could hear the subtle fondness in his voice. “You’ve finally found your match, Father.”

“God, I’m so proud of her,” Hongjoong said through his laughter, his voice breathless and utterly thrilled. “Did you see the way she stood up to me like a champ? I’ve never been that close to finishing on the spot.”

Mingi let out a sound of pure, exaggerated revulsion. “Please, never let me hear that again. That is fucking disgusting, this is why I get drunk often.”

“Oh, it gets worse,” Seonghwa chortled. “Did you see the way he looked at her? He was looking at her like he wanted her to break his neck and thank her for it. It was sickening. I wanted to bleach my eyes.”

“Shut up,” Hongjoong muttered, but there was no real heat behind it. You could hear the smile in his voice. It was small, secretive, a little lovesick.

“No, you shut up,” Seonghwa shot back with playful disbelief. “She literally insulted your bloodline and told you that you are not the king of your own empire in her eyes and you look like you’re ready to carve her name onto your chest.”

“Well, he just might,” Mingi answered dramatically. “You two make marriage look fun. My money’s on her, you know? Hell, everyone’s is at this point.”

Hongjoong laughed again, sounding more genuine, if that was possible. “So is mine.”

You’ve barely let that settle before the next recording sounded. You froze. This was the most recent, the catalyst that set this whole thing in motion. “I still think it’s cruel,” San murmured. “Are you ever going to tell her, Hongjoong? You’re really gonna let her go? Just like that?”

“There was never supposed to be an ‘us’ anyway. It was a mistake that should have never happened,” Hongjoong sighed and you were confused. You didn’t remember him sounding this torn about it. This was when you ran away crying to your room utterly heartbroken.

“That’s my wife, San. I don’t want to let her go, but it was cruel for me to take her secretly. I have to let her go if she doesn’t want to stay even if it hurts me. We go for the kill, but leave Jaehwan to me. I want to kill him, myself.”

The recording ended there, for good this time. You just stood there shaking, lips parted, eyes glassy. He hadn’t just tolerated you, he adored you - no, he loved you hopelessly with a hidden love that he kept choking down behind layers of silence and strategy.

You feel your knees weaken not from pain, but from the crushing, beautiful truth that maybe you were never unloved. “I-I don’t understand,” you blurted, tears blurring your vision. “T-There has to be a mistake. He’s married to someone else—”

San started to show you the marriage certificate again, but you didn’t want anything to do with it. “Y/N,” San said gently, catching your hand before you could shove the paper away. “Just look closer, please. At the bottom.”

Your gaze dropped, unwilling at first but your breath stopped, your mind stilling into chaotic silence when you saw it - your name and signature right beside Hongjoong’s. You blinked hard, heart thrashing in your chest. “I don’t remember this. I never - how could I not know I was married?”

“Our job is done. We shouldn’t be the ones explaining this. You need to hear it from him,” Mingi said as he stood and with a final glance, the door clicked shut, and you were left alone with your thoughts, the weight of the paper, and a heart that no longer knew what to believe.

You were shaking your head violently, eyes already welling up with tears you refused to acknowledge. One by one, everything started to make sense, even the little things you ignored for fear of falling too hard - your avocado allergy, how he picked raisins out of your food, your photo on his desk you now knew for sure he kept staring at every single day.

And everyone knew too, there were also the telltale signs of everyone slipping by accident - the way San froze when he found out your name was Jeong, Seonghwa telling you it was finally nice to meet you, overhearing Yeosang say you weren’t just a wife, you were someone Hongjoong would burn the world for.

You should’ve been angry, and you were, but underneath all of that was grief not just for yourself, but for him too. Your chest ached as you imagined all those nights he must have sat awake, planning, hiding, hurting. All those moments you begged him to speak, and he couldn’t not because he didn’t want to - but because he loved you too much to risk everything.

A sob clawed its way up your throat. You wiped your face with shaking hands, but the tears wouldn’t stop now. How long had he carried all this alone? How long had he loved you silently, forced to cage every affection? How could you hate someone for hurting you when all they ever wanted was to protect you? It must have been crushing.

Your heart was a tangled, desperate mess in your chest by the time the door finally opened. Hongjoong stepped in, his brows pinched together in confusion when he saw you there. When he saw the marriage certificate crumpled tightly in your hands, it was like the ground vanished beneath his feet.

He stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes blown wide, his breath catching audibly. It was like you also held his heart in your hands. All the color drained from his face, but somewhere in his eyes, relief shone through. And you knew why - all the pretending has to stop now and you both knew it.

Hongjoong slowly closed the door behind him, eyes never leaving yours, and for once, he looked afraid, vulnerable and human. “We need to talk,” he said hoarsely, and there wasn’t a trace of command in his voice, only quiet pleading as he slowly approached you.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” You cried out, heart aching and throat tight, the paper trembling in your hands like the storm inside you that was finally meeting his. “Everything hurts, Hongjoong. I can’t breathe.”

Without another word, he knelt in front of you, like the wind had been knocked out of him, and reached for you with trembling hands. You collapsed into his chest, sobbing openly as he cradled you to him. His warmth surrounded you, his scent grounding you, and for the first time, his arms didn’t feel like a prison - they felt like home.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, over and over again, his lips brushing your temple. “I’m so, so sorry. I never wanted you to find out like this, and I never wanted to hurt you. But I was wrong. I was so wrong.”

You shook your head against him, trying to make sense of the chaos in your chest. “I wanted so desperately for you to care for me, Hongjoong,” you confessed angrily, lamenting for all the times you spent yearning. “I wanted it so badly that I never blamed you for how you treated me, no matter how bad, I never blamed you.”

He clutched you tighter as if the very fabric of his soul depended on your forgiveness, his breath shaky, his words barely held together. “Blame me, Y/N. My soul can’t be saved if I sell you my sins and the scars in your heart are mine to atone, but don’t think for a second that I never loved you,” his voice cracked. “That I don’t love you now.”

Rage sets in as his words wrapped around your heart like a chain, heavy with the weight of long-buried truths. “You’re cruel, you know that?” You thumped your fists on his chest repeatedly. “After all the things you made me go through? You tell me this now?”

You could feel his tears now, each one a testament to the pain he had buried beneath the armor he wore for too long. “You think I’m cruel, but I’ve been your husband longer than you’ve known. And I’ve loved you every single day of it,” he whispered, his hands trembling.

Your breath caught as his words sank in, deeper than any wound he’d ever left behind. Husband. You wanted to scream, to cry, to pull away, to collapse into him all at once. How could he say it like that? So stripped of pride and power, like a man offering up the last piece of himself and hoping it would be enough? It was too much. It was everything.

He pressed his forehead to yours, lips barely apart from yours. “If you want the truth, I'll give you that. If you want to leave, I will never stop you."

But somehow, all you could do was hold him tighter. “I don’t want freedom from you, Hongjoong,” you whispered, breaking apart in his arms. “I just want the truth.”

Hongjoong didn’t speak at first. You felt his body tremble as he held you, as though the truth itself was too heavy to carry alone anymore. “I’m not the right person to tell you this, it would be Yunho, but to put it simply for now, your parents both served my father, and in turn, me after he passed away.”

You pulled back slightly, your breath catching in your throat. “M-My parents were in the mafia?” You asked, heart pounding with the realization already forming. Somehow, it made sense - they were absent throughout your teenage years and they did keep their career a secret.

“They were. Yunho took over your father after, but we didn’t get along much, but that’s another story,” Hongjoong said softly. “They were good people. One day I got myself into something I wasn’t supposed to. I would’ve been dead if it weren’t for them and my sons would be fatherless. I was young and stupid and they saved me. I owe them my life, I still do.”

He paused, voice tightening with grief. “I didn’t have much power back then, so I did the best thing I could. Assets, lots of them. I gave your parents millions, Y/N, but before I could fully ever thank them, before I could protect them…” Hongjoong looked away, sighing heavily.

“They died before they could use the money. My uncle wanted their money, didn’t he? Did he kill them?” You blurted out. His silence confirmed it and you shuddered, anguish and clarity warred within you as the weight of your stolen past pressed down on your chest.

“At first I didn’t have proof it was him,” you felt Hongjoong’s hands holding you steady, his warmth anchoring you to something real. “I was investigating their deaths for years. It was my way of getting back for them for saving me. It wasn’t until your car accident with Yeosang a couple of years back.”

You swallowed. This was it, this was the part you weren’t sure you were ready to hear. His face turned dark before he continued. “Yeosang was suspicious of the accident. We both thought the hit was for him at first since he’s my son. When I investigated, it was how I found out who you were. It felt like the universe just punched me in the gut.”

“W-What does this have to do with marrying me?”

“Everything,” his expression twisted, like it physically hurt him to relive it. “When your parents died, all that money went to you automatically. Do you remember that day when I asked you why your uncle took you in when Yunho was losing his mind looking for you all this time?”

You nodded, your stomach sinking. “He took you in to drain every cent out of you. He was bleeding you dry,” his jaw ticked in concealed anger. “He got impatient, that car accident back then would speed up the process.”

You shook your head, denial flaring. Your lungs were too tight, your heart racing painfully in your chest as you tried not to throw up. “So, what, you married me to stop him?”

“Not just that,” he said hoarsely, and then, softer. “I had to make it legally binding. As your husband, I could legally control your funds. It was the only way I knew how, so I married you in secret, in the hospital, while you were unconscious. And I held your hand while you signed.”

Your head snapped up at that. Your blood ran cold, because you remembered that day. The warmth of a hand in yours, grounding you while the world spun wildly. You thought it was just hospital consent forms. “That was the marriage certificate?” you whispered, your voice breaking. “But that was years before my uncle sold me to you, Hongjoong, that doesn’t make any sense—”

“I had to let you go back to him after,” he explained, eyes shut tight with regret. “He was desperate, and desperate men get dangerous. I needed time. I needed him to think he was still in control, still bleeding you dry while I worked behind the scenes.”

You stood there in stunned silence, your hands trembling with the weight of a truth you never asked for but now couldn’t ignore. “I watched you for years,” he continued, voice hollow but steady. “Always from a distance. I told myself it was enough.I kept telling myself I was doing it for your parents, that I owed them everything. That’s how it started. But then…”

His voice cracked, and for a moment he didn’t go on. “Then I fell in love with you,” he whispered, trembling. “Without even realizing it, I fell. Hard. And for that, I’m sorry. I will regret taking that choice away from you for as long as I live. The plan was to annul the marriage when I was done compiling evidence against him, and believe me, I tried to do it quickly. I didn’t want you to stay with him for long.”

Your breath caught when he smiled faintly, and it was the saddest, most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. “You were always strong, and I hated that I couldn’t tell you how proud I was. I’m sorry I got selfish because the thought of annulling the marriage just hurt me on the inside.”

You looked down, heart racing, remembering the moments. All that time you resented him for being locked in his office instead of being with you, he was working to finally set you free. “Then why keep it a secret?” You asked, voice fragile. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I was scared,” he admitted. “Scared you’d hate me. Scared that if you knew the truth, you’d want nothing to do with me. I didn’t want to rip open old wounds by making you relive the past. So I just… watched and made sure you were doing well.”

“But everything changed. One time I sent Jongho,” Hongjoong went on, voice turning sharp with memory. “We didn’t know he was violent with you. He caught him hurting you. That fucking bastard,” his cracked slightly. “Not only was he stealing from you, he was beating you up the entire time, I-I wanted to die when I found out—”

A lone tear escaped his eyes when you shushed him, putting your finger on his lips gently. He cracked a bitter smile, kissing your finger before continuing. “So I bankrupted his business. I had Seonghwa pose as his client, made him plant the seed that Kim Hongjoong was giving money for something in exchange. It worked, that’s how I got you into my house.”

You froze up, suddenly breathless. Your whole life - every twist and turn, every unexplained pain, every confusing encounter - was beginning to piece together like a puzzle you never knew existed. “You were never a liability used to pay a debt,” he growled. “Once you were under my roof, I knew you were safe. I could fully start making my move on your uncle. I sent Wooyoung to Suwon to start—”

“Suwon?” You blinked in surprise, remembering the very first time you met Wooyoung. “He went there…because of me? Because you told him to?”

He nodded. “The man your uncle hired who hit your parents were both hiding in Suwon. Mingi wanted to do it since he was the one who found them for me, but Wooyoung…let’s say that son of mine is a little trigger-happy. Trust me, he was more than glad to do it.”

You felt your chest caving in. All this time, everyone - San, Seonghwa, Jongho, Wooyoung, and even Mingi - had been watching, protecting, quietly fighting battles for you that you didn’t even know existed.

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you stared at the man who had haunted your days and nights with confusion, rage, longing - only to discover that, all along, he had loved you in silence.

“What now?” You sniffled. “What are we going to do?”

“I was going to kill him and then come clean to you,” he admitted ruefully. “But death is a salvation that he doesn’t deserve. I have all the evidence I need to send him to jail, because there’s one more thing your uncle cost me, ” he said, voice low and rough. “Yeosang.”

You felt your chest twist. “I had to send my own son away,” he spat the words like poison. “Because if your uncle ever saw him around, he would’ve figured it out that Yeosang was the one who called me, panicked, sobbing, begging me to save you.”

You knew that Hongjoong called Yeosang in a panic when you were poisoned to wherever he was hiding from to come and treat you. He risked all of it to save you. “Your uncle didn’t just steal from you,” he growled. “He didn’t just beat you, he stole from me too. He robbed me of time with you, your parents, and my son.”

He dropped to his knees again. “I did terrible things to keep you safe,” he said quietly. “And I can’t undo them. But if there’s anything left in your heart for me, even just a piece, I swear to you, I will make it right.”

Hongjoong was a man weighed down by guilt, someone laying every wound bare before you. You looked at him, this broken, bleeding man who had shielded you in ways you never even saw. And now, maybe, just maybe, it was time to stop surviving and start living. You gripped his hands tightly now, because for the first time, you understood.

“I hated you,” you whispered. His jaw clenched, and he closed his eyes like your words were blades, but he took it like he promised he would. “But I think I hated myself more for still loving you anyway.”

His eyes snapped open, wide and raw and shimmering with a hope he tried to suppress. “Y-You still do?” His broken voice stuttered.

“I don’t know how not to,” you said, your lips trembling. “I didn’t realize how much I fell for you until you started pulling back. Even when you pushed me so far away I thought I’d disappear, I kept looking for you.”

His breath hitched, and then he was kissing you, not out of possession or dominance, not like a man taking what he believed was his, but like someone starved for something he’d already mourned the loss of. His lips trembled against yours, and you tasted your shared sorrow, your silent tears, your aching, stupid, impossible love.

Hongjoong exhaled shakily, as if the weight of everything unsaid was finally buckling his knees. Now that you were in front of him, there was no more holding back. “I never meant to ignore you,” he said, voice rough and uneven. “These past few months, I-I know I’ve made you feel unwanted, like you were nothing but a pawn to me, but you never were.”

His eyes flicked to yours. “We were so close to getting your uncle. I could taste it, that justice. And I lost myself. I thought, just a little more time and I could finally give you peace.”

You opened your mouth to speak, to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but he shook his head. “No,” he whispered with a bitter smile. “It is my fault. I couldn’t help it. I wasn’t supposed to love you, I was supposed to distance myself because your uncle’s mole was watching us. But how could I not?”

“Hongjoong,” you tried to coax him out of these thoughts, but to no avail. Your vision blurred as his words sank in.

“How could I not hold back when you looked at the world with eyes that still trusted even after everything?” Hongjoong continued. “Every time you touched me, I felt like I was being forgiven for sins I hadn’t even confessed yet. Every night you were in my house, pretending not to care that I was cruel, pretending it didn’t hurt, I wanted to fall to my knees and curse every God out there for doing this to me, to us.”

He took your hands, his thumbs brushing your knuckles, and he held you like you were something fragile. “I even got you poisoned,” he said, pressing your hands to his chest, where his heart thundered violently. “Because I let my guard down. I’ve lived every day terrified that loving you would be the death of you, but it turns out, not loving you openly was killing me.”

Tears welled in your eyes again, thick and hot. When he finally pulled back, it was only just enough to whisper. “I married you once to protect you and I’d marry you again just to love you. Marry me, Y/N, please.”

You looked at him, the man who had fought in silence for you, bled in shadows for you, and lost you just to keep you alive. And for the first time, you saw him as the only person who had ever loved you enough to break his own heart to save yours. “You already have me,” you said softly, hands rising to cup his cheeks.

His exhale of relief and wonder, grief and gratitude all at once. No more pretending, no more secrets. Just the two of you, finally choosing each other in the light. You were already his long before you knew it and he’s always been yours.

“Let me get this straight,” Yunho uncrossed his long legs, his upper body leaning forward ever so slightly as his sharp, glaring eyes trained on Hongjoong’s flat, expressionless ones. “You’re telling me that you’ve been married to her this entire time? That you made her suffer in your slimy presence for the grand scheme of catching Jaehwan when you could’ve just left her with me?”

He removed his glasses to put it on top of the coffee table in front of him, its reflective surface and visual lightness made it a striking centerpiece while keeping the room feeling uncluttered and elegant, very befitting of someone like Yunho who exuded an exorbitant amount of grace. The way he scoffed after was anything of, however.

“You fucking bastard,” he seethed, banging his fist on said table with a sarcastic laugh that left his lips in a disbelieving pace of staccato. “I ought to kill you on the spot, Kim Hongjoong. I cannot believe you thought that this was normal, you’re not right in the head, I’m telling—”

“Now, now Yunho,” Hongjoong - or should you say, your husband - smirked smugly, snaking his arm around your waist to pull you closer. “In front of Y/N, really?”

“You won’t get away with this, also you mean my niece—”

“Don’t you mean my wife?” Hongjoong grinned, all of his teeth bared out in a daring show of possessiveness that was not to be messed with, clearly not even Yunho. “And I already have,” he turned to look at you, his eyes softening significantly as he smiled. “Isn’t that right, darling?”

Yunho balked at the blatant display of Hongjoong’s disrespect towards him. He looked at you expectantly, but all you could do was give him a sheepish smile as you toyed with the ring on your finger.

“Sorry, Uncle,” you giggled. “You heard my husband.”

Hongjoong whispered ‘that’s my girl’ softly on your ear as Yunho let out the most undignified squawk you’ve ever heard a grown man do.

Yunho covered his face with his hands and groaned. “You love him,” he deadpanned. “And you, you manipulative, delusional, leather-wearing tax fraud—”

“Tax fraud?” Hongjoong raised a brow, a slow grin spreading across his face like ink in water. “Really, Yunho? That’s the best you’ve got?”

“---you love her. Oh, Sungho is probably rolling in his grave right now,” he groaned, and you laughed at how he whispered his grievances in your dad's name.

He sat up, reclining back with one arm thrown over the couch. “Well, if you ever come to your senses, I know a great divorce lawyer,” he said dryly. “My door is always open for you, little love.”

You bit back the urge to laugh when Hongjoong rolled his eyes dramatically. “I’ll keep it in mind, Uncle,” you grinned. “But you should know by now that I have a type.”

Hongjoong only smirked from his seat, one arm slung lazily over the backrest behind you like this was his damn throne. “You’re just bitter I won,” he snorted at Yunho.

“Oh, I’ll be bitter until my dying breath,” Yunho snapped. “You married her and didn't even invite me to the wedding. I was supposed to walk her down the aisle.”

“Then die—”

“Fuck you,” he retorted. Yunho waved his hand, the humor in his eyes dimming slightly as his tone shifted, more measured now. “Alright, jokes aside. What happened to the motherfucker that is Jaehwan?”

Hongjoong’s arm around you tightened as his entire posture changed. “We got him. He’s in jail.”

The words dropped like a stone in the room. You looked down, purposefully grabbing the mug to take a sip, your mind flashing with the bright lights of one shot that gradually turned into two, three, four shots. Yunho’s brows furrowed. “You’re serious?”

“Deadly,” Hongjoong tried not to smirk, side-eyeing you with intent. “Nothing crazy, really. He doesn’t deserve anything theatrical for everything that he’s done. I had my men watch him for a couple of days, ambushed him when he least expected it, and that’s that. You recall that car accident from a couple of years ago, yes?”

You closed your eyes, the faux splatters of sticky red coating your face feeling realistic enough if you concentrated. Lifeless, hollow eyes stared back behind your eyes before you opened them again. Hongjoong’s fingers massaged yours with purpose back then, too. You kept your mouth from curling too far at the corners.

“How could I not? You took her that night,” Yunho scoffed, sitting forward again, steepling his fingers under his chin. “I was this close to finding Y/N at that time. I dislike talking about this, but it was hard. Years of failure meant I failed her father.”

Hongjoong hummed, ignoring Yunho’s pointed look. “My son was also there, you remember my middle son? He’s a neurosurgeon now,” he replied softly, his fingers playing with yours. “You could say I had a different drive back then. I had my reasons.”

Yunho’s brows shot up in mild surprise before they softened ever so slightly. “I didn’t know, I’m terribly sorry that your son got caught up in this fiasco,” he murmured, his soft eyes landing on you. “I suppose everything that happened was like a trigger set in motion, wouldn’t you say, Y/N?”

You shrugged as you gave Hongjoong a look. You let your lashes lower slightly and adjusted your posture, just like you did when after the kickback from the trigger that had made your shoulders ache. “Perhaps.”

“Anyway, it’s over,” Hongjoong said with a clipped edge. “There’s enough evidence now to tie him to the attempted murder, fraud, and embezzlement. Stalking as well. The bastard didn't even stop at the mole in my house, he always sent his sleazy men around the area in case she went out. He’s done, I'll make sure of it.”

“Good riddance,” Yunho said with an unsurprising amount of venom. His shoulders sank, years and years of burden lifting off of his shoulders. Relief settles in his expression, and though it made him look a decade younger, the faraway look of a thousand suns in his eyes told you otherwise. “I knew your father would be proud of you," he sighed. "That bastard took everything from our family. But you…you gave it back.”

The man who haunted your childhood, the one who used your grief as a tool to strip you of everything, was finally out of your life. You squeezed Yunho’s hand, hoping that it said everything you couldn’t say out loud. You stayed quiet for a moment, trying to absorb the weight of what Yunho was saying.

There was no reminiscing on your end, no smirk, no memories; just the hurt between two people who have lost their loved ones. He held your hand, holding it tight. “And your mom,” he added softly. She would’ve held you so tight. You look like Sohee, you know? Same fire, same goddamn backbone. Perfect for your father.”

“I hope they’re at peace now,” you said quietly.

“They are,” Yunho replied with a surety that only blood could lend. “Because you’re finally safe. And I can finally breathe again.”

You took in his words, the finality of them. The war was over now, justice had been served. And it sounded like a dull thud of a body hitting the floor, the heaviness of it almost satisfying in your ears. The conversation shifted into something lighthearted, with you and Yunho reminiscing about how he babysat you when you were younger, how your own father was when they were both teenagers, to all the mundane things like how your father would have reacted to your marriage with Hongjoong.

And Hongjoong was just there, laughing and smiling along like he’s always meant to be there with you. He would quip once or twice with his own accounts about your parents and you fell a little harder for the man, for the way he spoke about your parents with unparalleled fondness was something to behold. He truly adored them, and it just made you miss them even more.

“We should go,” you said gently, standing up, smoothing your dress daintily with a small smile. “I want to visit my parents today. It’s a good day and I haven’t been to ever since I was in college.”

Yunho, ever the gentleman that he was, walked both you and Hongjoong all the way to the door to see you out instead of sending his right-hand man like a man of his status should. The shift in his demeanor was immediate, but you tried your best to not pay attention to it as he hugged you goodbye.

“She’ll be back, Yunho,” Hongjoong rolled his eyes, noticing the small tension, subtly pulling you away back to his side with a curt chuckle. “Stop smothering her.”

Yunho didn’t answer with words. He just stared long, quiet, and with enough weight behind his gaze to make most men sweat as both you and Hongjoong speed walked all the way to the car to try and get away, but of course, there was no escaping. You were a Jeong, after all, and so was he. “Stop,” he spoke out, firm and absolute.

You halted from walking, giving Hongjoong a knowing look, who only squeezed your hand supportively. “Hmm?”

“I know what you did,” Yunho said, his voice just a touch lower than before. He swept his gaze on you from head to toe, stopping lightly at your shoulders. "Your sore shoulders tells me everything."

Your spine straightened, barely enough to notice, unless someone was trained to notice. You turned your head over your shoulder, lips curled into an innocent, almost amused smile. “Oh?”

He smirked, his body stilling like a predator catching scent. You faltered, suddenly reminded that Yunho wasn’t just your uncle - he was mafia, just like Hongjoong. Worse, perhaps, more patient and more precise. Hongjoong took pride in the brutality of it all while he was the kind of man who could make a death look like a ghost story.

For a moment, he looked overtly threatening, his intelligence sharper, and his confrontation carrying a much colder, calculated menace. He tilted his head mockingly, willingly playing your game. “Must’ve felt good,” he chuckled. “I bet you looked him in the eye.”

You had to laugh out loud at that one, not confirming nor denying what he was insinuating. “Maybe I just found peace,” you said innocently.

“I see. Say, what jail is he in? Might have to pay him a visit,” Yunho smiled, truly smiled, wide and cold, but still, it was impossible to miss the adoration and pride in it. “Let me guess - it’s two feet wide and six foot deep.”

Hongjoong, who’d been watching you both with amusement simmering just beneath the surface, finally spoke. “What vivid imagination you have,” he mused, smirking with dark intent, his eyes shining sadistically as he looked at you with faux curiosity. “Don’t you think, darling?”

Yunho nodded slowly, pursing his lips in a poor attempt to stop himself from smiling. “Not vivid enough,” he shrugged playfully. “Humour me this, if someone were to, say, shoot someone…would it be better to aim for a quick kill or prolong the agony? Hypothetically.”

You tapped your chin thoroughly, pretending to think. “ I’d prolong the agony. Shoot them four times on pressure points. Hypothetically, of course.”

“Next one,” Yunho said, clearly enjoying himself. “You’re standing over the body, hypothetically, and he’s looking at you, what would you say?”

“Hypothetically? You pondered, tilting your head as if you were really thinking about what to say. “I would have said ‘you should have killed me when you had the chance.’”

Hongjoong exhaled, something like reverence in his breath. “God, I love you.”

“Just one more,” Yunho said softly, his voice losing its teasing edge, now carrying the quiet weight of someone who’d once held you as a child, who had once promised your father to protect you. “Was it clean?”

You met his gaze evenly, nodding very subtly with a serene smile, one that he returned with all the love and unwavering support only someone who truly cared for you would do.

You wanted to tell him that it was so clean that after your hands didn’t even shake as you pulled the trigger and that the air smelled sweeter. Instead you said, “Like it never even happened.”

Yunho stared at you for a long moment, his eyes melting into something rawer, wearier. “If anyone asks,” he said lowly, the gravity in his tone undeniable now. “You were with me that night. Both of you were the entire time.”

His gaze cut to Hongjoong, who for once, looked struck silent. The air between them simmered with unspoken understanding. He nodded deeply with reverence. It wasn’t flashy, but it was sincere and genuine enough that Yunho didn’t mock him for it. “Thank you.”

Yunho just waved a hand, though his voice cracked slightly when he said, “Don’t thank me, you bastard. Just keep her safe or I swear, I’ll drag your sorry ass down and make you wish you’d stayed single.”

Hongjoong chuckled low in his throat. His hand settled gently on the small of your back as he led you forward. “Don’t worry, she married a man who never stopped watching her back.”

“God help us all,” Yunho rolled his eyes in mock disgrace, staring at the two of you as you both got in the car before he called for the last time. “Tell your parents I said hi.”

You looked back to see him watching you as Hongjoong started to drive away, arms crossed, but eyes glassy. And though he didn’t say it, you understood. You were safe, you were home, and he’d go to hell and back before anyone took that from you again.

The car ride was quiet at first, not from discomfort, but from something softer. Reverent. Hongjoong kept one hand on the wheel while the other was placed on your lap. It reminded you of that one stormy night when he sought out to find you in that lone playground. He turned to look at you, knowing that he was thinking the same as you were.

“I love you,” he said, pulling your hand up to kiss your knuckles. His eyes searched your face like he was memorizing it all over again, as though he still couldn’t believe you were here. “I should’ve said it a long time ago, I feel for you so much that it almost hurts.”

You blinked back the sudden tears, the sincerity in his voice cracking something wide open inside you. You laughed wetly. “That’s very sweet of you, I believe you, but why now?”

“I wanted to wait until everything was said and done,” he continued, pressing another kiss to your fingers. “I want to give you everything. A house to grow old with, a bed where you always feel safe, dinners where I burn the rice and you make fun of me for it. I want lazy Sundays and soft arguments and kisses, just like we’ve always done it.”

You looked at him, heart aching with how badly you wanted to believe in all of it and how, against all odds, you did. “You’re serious?” You asked softly, squeezing his hand back.

He placed a hand over his heart in a rare show of insecurity. “I would place a piece of my soul in every time and place you’d ever felt lonely, just so you wouldn’t be alone. I love you enough for the both of us, and there must be something about me worth loving if you would just see–”

You leaned in and kissed him the moment he parked, slow and sweet and full of the kind of hope neither of you had dared to hold onto before. When you pulled away, his forehead rested against yours. “I want that too,” you whispered. “I want everything with you, Hongjoong.”

He exhaled like he’d been holding that breath for years. “Then we start today,” he smiled as bright as the brightest star. “We say hello to your parents. We tell them you’re safe, then we build a life that’s entirely ours, okay?”

You nodded, your smile trembling. You finally look up at the sky after all these years, tearing up as the clouds seem to part way for the sun to finally shine, the rays beaming down at your parents’ tombstones. Finally, justice has been served, they can rest in peace now. You couldn’t help but stare if only for a little while.

Hongjoong approached the stones first, his head bowing low between them. He placed one hand gently on your mother’s grave, the other on your father’s. He didn’t speak loudly, but you saw his lips move, whispering something too quiet for even you to hear. It could’ve been anything - a greeting, a promise, or perhaps maybe even a thank you.

You didn’t ask what he said. You didn’t need to. For the first time, the cemetery didn’t feel like an end. It felt like a door closing softly behind you because the weight of grief was gone now. They could rest and so could you. You stood by Hongjoong’s side smiling at him as he gave you a small kiss on the forehead, coaxing you to talk to your own parents just like he did.

You brought your hands to your lips, kissed your palms, and pressed them reverently to each stone. “Rest easy now, Mom, Dad,” you whispered full of love and release, voice catching as you tried not to tear up. “I’m safe now, and I’m very happy. Happier than I’d ever been.”

You turned to look at the man standing just a few steps behind you - your husband, your protector, your love - watching you with a smile so soft, it nearly broke you open again. “I’m married now. It’s Hongjoong, remember him? Please bless our marriage, I really love him,” you paused, taking a deep breath. “I-I wish you were both here, I miss you…”

Then, slowly, you stepped back and began to walk away, hand in hand with Hongjoong. But before, you glanced back one last time, your heart feeling lighter at the sight of the wind blowing from the tombstones to your face lightly. You couldn’t help the serene smile on your face.

Hongjoong will take over now, he’ll take care of me like you would’ve wanted.

You were thirty-four years old when you finally found your peace that didn’t feel like a surrender this time and instead felt like home, hand in hand with the love of your life.

𝙽𝚎𝚝s - @keopihaus @dove-net @othersideoutlawsnetwork @illusionnet @pirateeznet @ksmutsociety @cromernet

Dividers by: @enchanthings and @anitalenia

#amazing #absolutely amazing #the enemies to lovers from reader's post absolutely slaps #and there is a whole backstory a whole motive from hongjoong's side?#like everything he did being intentional #i love the implications of that #this is such a good read #the satisfaction level when they finally get together UGH #ateez mafia au #hongjoong angst #hongjoong smut #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic

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emotionallyanaemic · 4 days ago

Text

Paradigm

hero!yunho x villain!reader (ft. woosan as sidekicks)

not exactly hero and villain in the strict sense but archnemesis stuff going on def

for the action figures collab by @sungbeam <3

word count: 24.5k (oops i did it again)

genres and warnings: bit of fluff, lots of crack, lots of angst, yunho is weird in this one folks like borderline ✨obsessive✨ but not in a bad way, best friends turned enemies turned lovers. dimensions, time travel and all that jazz, blood and violence, mentions of smoking, lmk if i missed sth.

synopsis: when mrs. jung goes missing, presumably inside the paradigm, you devote your life to trying to find a way to access the paradigm with wooyoung. yunho sides with the opposition and you become sworn enemies until circumstances- and his twisted affection for you- forces you both to join hands as you learn the truth about the paradigm key.

a/n: thank you to @eightmakesonebraincell for always supporting me and my crack hehe and thank you beam for sharing my misery and making this happen!

The world moves in quiet rhythms, hidden patterns that are etched deep into the bones of existence itself. The tide that sways to the pull of the moonlight, the rotation of earth to bring about day and night, the shifting of seasons– for the leaves must fall before the flowers can bloom. Every movement creates a pattern– the track of an ant’s feet, the web of a spider, the gait of a human, the flutter of wings. We walk and grow, create and destroy, live and die, all by the unseen hand of The Paradigm that guides us.

The Paradigm is a silent law. Perhaps, it is a pattern. Some think of it as a lens, a mere perspective to life. People give it names like chaos and order. Those who dare to defy it become a whisper of glitch in this infinite universe, lost to the judgement of The Paradigm.

The Paradigm is a cruel being that does not spare the curious. It punishes relentlessly, endlessly. It holds the seekers and the travellers accountable but does not deliver justice. The Paradigm is not just.

Which is why you have beef with The Paradigm.

“I’m just saying,” Wooyoung taps anxiously on the surface of the table where you are currently bunched up into a cocoon, studying the pattern of seashells and waiting to make a breakthrough. “Maybe you should stop fighting what’s meant to be.”

“What’s meant to be is absolute silence from you, my subordinate. The law and order of this world demands it.”

“As if,” Wooyoung says with a rather loud snort, twirling his chair twice and producing a faint whistle for the dramatics. You hate that it cannot be just one twirl like his previous two occurrences. “My mother told me to always speak my mind. You don’t get another chance if you keep silent.”

“She didn’t give birth to a yapper. She gave birth to a traveller, and you do anything but,” you tsk in disappointment, a dull ache in your heart at the memory of your teacher. Without her, you feel lost. Absolutely lost, as if you have sailed into the sea without a compass and a destination.

“You should be finding the key to The Paradigm. Instead, you choose to babysit me,” you continue, signing the last notes and checking the time. Dawn will be cracking in a few which is your sign to leave the base and go home.

Wooyoung proceeds to twirl in his chair thrice. Is it a force of habit, you wonder, or is it ingrained in the child of The Paradigm to give in to the divine orders of this universe?

“If your next twirling pattern is five times, you will be strapped to the stretcher as my next test subject, Wooyoung. I’m not joking.”

“What– did I do it again?” Wooyoung groans dramatically and gets out of his chair before he can risk his life. Surprisingly, subconsciously being so orderly irked him just about as much as it irked you. “You know I don’t do it on purpose.”

He follows you to the lift and you wait for him to get inside before pressing for the 13th level of your apartment complex. You send a glare through the reflective door of the lift and he runs his hands through his hair. Once.

“Except that one or two times I did it on purpose to get your attention,” he admits with a grin and you raise your brows in challenge. He runs his hands through his hair again, once. “But that was because you were holed up in your base for a solid 3 days and I was so bored.”

“I’m not your only friend in this world,” you remind him.

“But I am your only friend in this world, sweet cheeks,” he says and fluffs his hair thrice.

“Attention!” You call and he straightens, confused. When he realises that he followed the Fibonacci again, he begrudgingly tucks his hands in the pockets of his denims.

The Fibonacci sequence is a series of numbers where each number is the sum of the previous two numbers, starting from 0 and 1. For as long as you can remember, Wooyoung always gives in to this sequence in his daily habits.

“Any news of our dear friend?” You ask when you step out of the lift into the comfort of your home. The smell of food fills your nostrils. Even though the food must have gone cold by now, it still smells good enough for you both to steer towards the kitchen and take a few bites before going to sleep.

“My dear handsome friend Yunho was spotted visiting all the lakes in the district. Now I don’t believe he did it just because he can, but because he, too, is looking for the key for some reason.”

The spoonful of soup pauses abruptly before it reaches your mouth and you meet eyes with your partner-in-crime. Not because he called your worst enemy his dear handsome friend in the most natural, unsarcastic manner but because you might finally have a lead.

“Now, tell me, why would the Keeper of The Paradigm need the key? All he needs to do is make sure the door to the nth dimension remains closed so no one can get to the core and try to access The Paradigm.”

“Maybe he lost something in there,” Wooyoung shrugs mischievously. “Or maybe he wants to go look for someone too, like you. Or…”

“The possibilities are endless,” you stare at the soup, hands on your hips as you hum. “Maybe someone else like me has finally entered the nth dimension without a permit. Wouldn’t be the first time, but the Keeper does not need to take care of it when they’ve got a whole police force to take care of illegal entries. Which makes me think…”

“That whatever is happening is taking place now?” Wooyoung concludes, taking eight consecutive spoons in his mouth. You nod.

“Get your next thirteen spoons in. It’s going to be a long night, Wooyoung. We’re raiding the Keeper’s base.”

It is usually the villains who live underground, drawn towards darkness and cold– anything remotely similar to the way they feel inside their bodies. They learn the tricks and tells of the shadows and become one with them, forcing everyone and everything else out. They step out in the light only when the need arises and sometimes, they bend the light to their will.

However, Wonderland has always been a strange town. Here, the heroes dwell in tunnels and caves, hardly ever seen in broad daylight, rarely ever spotted by the common man. Here, the heroes are called The Keepers. They are a group of people who guard the doors to the nth dimension and its core, The Paradigm, with their life. They maintain the law and order in this world along with The Forces, thus they are the heroes.

Anyone who dares to challenge them becomes a villain. Like you.

You, who lives in the poshest part of the town in a tall apartment complex. The common man looks up to you, and you wish that they looked up to you in a positive sense too, not just because you are literally situated higher than them on a physical scale. You walk around in public with your friend by your side and everyone recognises you.

You aren’t affected by the fact that you are recognisable. You have made the face of the news and papers a few too many times. People give you names– outcast, pariah, pandora. The Seeker remains your favourite not because it reeks of accuracy but because those who call you by the name mean it.

You are a seeker in every sense. Ever since you cut ties with The Forces, you have been seeking not for the truth, but one lie. One mistake.

One slip from the law and order of this world itself. Just one glitch in the matrix that you can seize in your own two human hands and prove that the law is bendable. That the nth dimension and its core, The Paradigm, are not rigid but allow for anomalies to exist.

You know that anomalies exist. One walks right beside you, child of The Paradigm. His mother is called The Traveller because she explored The Paradigm endlessly. She studied it just to satiate her thirst for knowledge. During her journey in the endless folds of time and space itself, but not alone, this child was conceived. She gave birth to a child who was very much human…

Except that he is driven by everything that reminds him of The Paradigm. As if he is meant to live, or even rule the endless dimension itself. He is not god, no. However, he understands The Paradigm better than you or any other traveller by instinct alone. It is as if he is a part of that endless, supposedly infinite being itself.

Yet all that instinct and sight never helps when he tries to look for his lost mother.

The key, you shake your head at the thought. You needed to find the key to The Paradigm.

The Keeper would be the only person who would know where the key is. The existence of the key is usually a top secret known only to a select few in The Forces.

The Keeper is your worst enemy because your existence itself is what forces him out of the shadows to do his job endlessly, never slacking in case you sneak past him and find your way into the nth dimension and eventually, The Paradigm. That would disrupt the law and order of this world.

The Travellers are legal explorers. The Seeker– you– are not.

“Do we have to do this in the middle of the night?” Wooyoung asks as he waits for you to pick your choice of vehicle for the night. You pick the flashiest car in your garage because the occasion demands it.

If you are going to raid The Keeper’s base, you are not going to do it like a burglar.

“This is exactly the time. Catch him by surprise,” you smile devilishly at the thought of a half-asleep Jeong Yunho scrambling to collect himself. Or maybe he’s up, panicking because of some unforeseen happening inside the nth dimension, or worse, The Paradigm. Something that made him visit all the water bodies in the area where the door to the nth dimension circulates, changing locations endlessly.

“I’ll distract him. You follow your instincts and find the key.”

“As if he would keep it in his lair,” Wooyoung mutters, driving speedily towards the bridge that leads you away from the heart of the town and towards the more natural part of the city. This city is surrounded by lakes and rivers, a perfect spot for the door to materialise.

The door is very much alive and for a few years now, it has chosen Wonderland as its base. The door switches locations, moving from one water body to another but remaining within Wonderland’s radius as if bound by something. Probably the key, you wonder.

“I think if the key is a physical thing,” Wooyoung continues to say, “San would be sent to hide it while Yunho takes care of whatever problem has arisen.”

“You think he can trust San with the key?” You ask and Wooyoung looks at you with curiosity.

“You would trust me with the key. I’m supposing Yunho does the same.”

“Since you and San have always been so chummy, maybe you can go find him then while I distract Yunho,” you say, thinking about how this night could go from here. “Maybe you can send him a cute text, see if he responds.”

“You’re still bitter about the time I went out to play with them?” Wooyoung laughs rather loudly, annoying you to no end. “Look. Everyone loves me. I’m not the villain here. I’m just the villain’s sidekick, and that’s not a bad thing. It just gives me more perks and more character.”

“Shut up and look at that. Their base is fully active in the middle of the night. Something is up.”

You use a couple of scanners and detectors to find out the number of people inside The Keeper’s home which primarily serves as a base in case of emergencies. Situated right outside the heart of Wonderland and quite close to the largest water body in this town, this place is an ideal spot in more ways than you can think of. You detect about seven people and the two of you get out, exchanging instructions and separating to get tonight’s work done.

You pause before one of the mirrored walls in the corridor that lead deeper into the lair to check if everything is in place– your hair, perfectly styled and sitting on your shoulders, clothes smooth and neatly tucked in the right places, black heels spotless, your signature ruby lipstick–

“People usually check if their weapons are in place before they arrive at their enemy’s base, don’t they?” An awfully familiar voice rings in the corridor and you pause in the middle of fixing your lip liner. “Why would you get all dolled up to come here?”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” you meet Yunho’s eyes in the mirror and he allows you to put your lip liner back in your bag. You produce a weapon before you close your bag– a gun meant to freeze the person’s limbs momentarily. “I have to make sure that I’m in top condition when I make you kneel in front of the people of Wonderland.”

Yunho looks sleep-deprived, if the bags under his eyes are any indication of the recent unusual activity regarding the doors to the nth dimension. Perhaps, you can use that to your advantage, but you’re quick to make note of how he shifts his weight to his dominant leg and how his hand begins to snake behind his back, under his black jacket.

“Why are you here now?”

“I thought you would know?” You tuck your hair back before pointing the gun at his hand that surely must hold some sort of a weapon now. “You’ve been frequenting all the water bodies in Wonderland. Tell me why.”

“No sign of Mrs. Jung, if that’s what you’re wondering,” he says softly and you almost fall for it. “There’s just been something I’ve been wanting to check. Drop your weapon, Seeker.”

“Not a chance,” you mutter and fire.

It happens in a span of seconds. He dodges and throws a dagger in your direction, which you expected. You shift your weight towards the left but the next dagger comes out of nowhere and you barely have time to duck. The impact of the dagger ends up shattering the mirror behind you and you look at the Keeper in horror.

“I’m thoroughly offended,” you admit, taking out your real gun this time. “I was only going to hold you for questioning, not kill you, you fucker.”

“And I’m only getting rid of the bane of my existence once and for all so I can focus on my work without distractions. Though… getting rid means I immobilize you and maybe hand you over to The Forces. Prison time ought to fix that pretty head of yours.”

“You think I’m pretty?” You grin before aiming at his head and firing.

You catch Yunho’s smile before he ducks behind a wall and disappears. You go after him but you are welcomed by an onslaught of his minions. You can handle them– you’ve trained for this, but it’s hard to keep one eye fixed on Yunho to see where he is disappearing off to and simultaneously shoot his minions such that no one gets fatally injured.

Because that is not how Mrs. Jung trained you. The cost of a life is too big a price to pay, she said.

You really wish she had never said that, because it is becoming increasingly difficult to not kill someone here. You curse loudly and kick the man who clings to your legs before dashing off to the room where Yunho must be–

Except that he is not there. Where did he go–

You feel the hair on the back of your neck rise before you feel the warmth of his body behind you. He whispers a ‘got you’ and grabs you by your waist, lifting you up as he walks to the nearest chair. You can not let him tie you so you scream and flail in an attempt to distract him. Just as he is about to set you down, you use the shift of his body’s weight to effectively flip him. He grunts in surprise but the flip isn’t successful and you both end up grappling for the gun in your hand.

You bite his wrist and keep at it. He yelps and struggles to free his hand but you are on top of him and there isn’t much he can do.

“What are you, a cat? Let go.”

You meet his eyes and let go and he rubs at the bloody dent on his wrist, shaking his head. You point the gun at his head and he gives you a deadpan stare, as if daring you to shoot him.

“I think we can talk like two civilised human beings now,” you say and he gives up, resting his head on the floor with his arms on his side. He raises his bleeding wrist.

“There was nothing civilised about this, but okay. We can make a fresh start.”

“Perfect,” you grin. “Now talk.”

“What would the Seeker like to know?”

“Why have you been frequenting water bodies so much these days?” you ask. “I just need an answer. Is the door changing its pattern of shifting locations, or is there unexpected activity going on in the nth dimension or The Paradigm?”

“Since your only concern is finding Mrs. Jung, which I can assure you that the other travellers and the soldiers from The Forces are still investigating, what’s happening now is none of your business.”

“Oh, but it is, you see?” You cock your head and match the smug grin on his face. “Finding Mrs. Jung is not the only reason I’m obsessed with studying the nth dimension. Now…” you open the cylinder of your revolver with deliberate intention and show him the two bullets. Then you spin the cylinder and it shuts with a metallic whir.

“We can do this the easy way, but you don’t like that, huh?”

Yunho keeps his eyes locked with yours. Slowly, he raises his hands and rests them on your bare knees. You try not to shift at his unwarranted touch but he must notice the tic in your jaw.

“I know you have studied The Paradigm all your life, but it is a dangerous territory that you explore, sweetheart. I have offered you to work with me time and time again– legally. We want to find Mrs. Jung as much as you do. We don’t like lost travellers. So, tell me, why are you so obsessed with risking your life and entering The Paradigm?”

“That’s not something you should worry about,” you tell him in an almost chastising manner. A signal on your watch catches your eye and you contain a sigh. “Perhaps… I should shift my focus on why you go above and beyond to safeguard the door.”

His gaze darkens and you smile in victory. You press the gun against his shoulder and pull the trigger.

Empty.

“The odds might not be in your favour the next time I shoot, so tell me. Where is the key?”

Yunho chuckles lightly at first and then it turns into a deep laughter. You don’t like how he clutches on to your knees as he catches his breath.

“You don’t know where the key is?”

Your eyebrows scrunch in a frown and Yunho makes the most of your moment of confusion. Gripping your knees, he props himself up and headbutts you. Hard.

You cry out in pain and soon, he has your gun in his hand and you’re flat on the floor with him on top of you.

Oh, how the tables turn.

A dangerous cock of his head as he contemplates shooting you, the cold press of the gun against your forehead almost haunting. You have no doubt that he will not shoot you, yet the dark, empty look in his gaze makes your heart beat with dread.

He has you pinned under him, helpless.

“Go ahead,” you say softly. “If you’re going to shoot and kill me, just tell me where the key is first. I don’t want to die confused.”

“What makes you think I’d grant you that gift, sweetheart?” Yunho asks, his eyes taking note of every inch of your face as if memorising it before he mars it.

“Because you’re the good guy,” you laugh sarcastically as you remind him. “And no matter how much you want to kill me, you never will. Not because you cannot, but because your conscience doesn’t allow you to.”

“I should kill my conscience then, huh?” Yunho says and pulls the gun away, only to aim it at his own temple. Your smile falls and when you realise that he is actually going to pull the trigger, your eyes widen and you instinctively push his hand away.

The trigger gets pulled and the bullet makes a loud impact with the roof. You gasp and snatch the gun away from The Keeper.

“Are you insane?” You ask. “Why would you do that?”

“You don’t believe I was actually going to shoot myself, huh?” Yunho asks, unfazed. He snatches the gun and throws it away and then picks you up by the collar of your jacket. You grunt in discomfort but soon, he is fixing your hair and straightening your clothes.

“It’s just nice to learn that you don’t actually want to kill me,” he says with the most innocent smile plastered on his face. You are still in disbelief and you shake your head.

“The Forces are due for a meeting in about… 10 minutes from now,” he says after checking his wristwatch. “Go home, Seeker. It’s not the time to be fighting. If they spot you here, they’ll cuff you for eternity.”

“Isn’t that what you want?” You ask, hating how weak you sound.

“Not really,” he shrugs. “There won’t be anything fun about my job if there’s no rogue soul trying to sneak past me.”

You make an impressed face. “Don’t tell me you’re going soft on me.”

“Never,” he dismisses you with a wave. “I just have a bad headache and I’m functioning on no sleep, thanks to a certain someone,” he looks at you pointedly and you tuck your hands in the pockets of your jacket. “There is strange happenings taking place in the nth dimension and we do not think it is related to Mrs. Jung. Your system should be able to pick it up soon. I’m only doing my job and making sure you do not make a stupid mistake and get lost like Mrs. Jung, so go home. Keep doing what you have to– just stay away from the door.”

“That’s… new. You were never the type to spill. Are you sick or something?” You narrow your eyes and he returns your suspicious gaze with an eye roll. “Am I finally getting rid of The Keeper without doing anything?”

“We’re not enemies, y/n. Even if our roles demand conflict, we’re looking for the same thing,” he admits in a low voice, almost a whisper, as if he is afraid that the walls will hear him. “Let’s not become allies. However… if we ever do find ourselves on the same path, I wouldn’t mind sharing it with you.”

You pretend to throw up at the sudden display of camaraderie, even though something warm fills your stomach. He laughs and pats your back twice before harshly pushing you towards the door. You flip your finger at him but before you can leave, Wooyoung enters looking rather smug.

“Hey, y/n. I didn’t find the key but I did knock San out and retrieved what looks like their latest findings–”

As soon as he spots a furious Yunho, he grabs your hand and you both make a run for it, The Keeper hot on your heels. Wooyoung’s laugh echoes in the corridors and he takes out a smoke bomb, unlocking it with his teeth and throwing it behind you without a care.

You turn your neck to see the look on Yunho’s face before leaving. He must be so angry, mad for giving you a chance–

But you see him shaking his head in amusement instead. It utterly confuses you and you remain thinking about why The Keeper has a sudden change of heart now.

True, you never had the typical hero and villain dynamics. That is just how the public likes to refer to you both. You both are pupils of Mr. Jung, childhood friends who studied and trained together. Your rivalry began when Mrs. Jung went missing and Yunho became The Keeper of the door to the nth dimension, siding with The Forces. It felt like a betrayal because Mrs. Jung used to warn you about The Forces and their morals.

You went rogue. You explored uncharted, illegal territories on your own. You barely escaped prison but you made it your life’s mission to find Mrs. Jung and to find the truth about what she went to explore the last time that she entered the nth dimension and never came back.

Void points that allowed time travelling into the future inside The Paradigm.

Yunho always asked you what was keeping you back from becoming an official traveller. You told him that the people in The Forces were all liars. They claimed that no void point couldn’t transport you to the future and that they were ‘working’ on means to time travel into the future.

Surely, you weren’t the only person Mrs. Jung told about the future void points inside The Paradigm, right? Yunho must know as well.

Did Yunho finally figure out your reason for being so insistent on studying the void points inside The Paradigm and exposing the truth? What reasons did he have for staying silent about it then?

The door is the portal to the nth dimension, which is the point in space where multiple dimensions of different times and locations in the present and the past exist. It looks like an empty white maze but there are two types of folds in the nth dimension– the common points and the void points.

The void points are raw gaps in the dimension that must be calibrated and configured through certain chemical elements until they stop changing forms and become a fixed point in its location and time. That is when it qualifies to be called a common point. Through a common point, you can access its configured location and time to travel to other common points and explore the dimension and its anomalies. They are kind of like portals in that sense.

Since common points are all void points originally, these voids are let out from the core of the nth dimension which is The Paradigm. The Paradigm is a living entity, some argue. You like to think that ‘living’ does not encompass the entirety of The Paradigm’s nature. It is a place where millions of thousands of dimensions of different times move without a beginning and an end. The Paradigm is called a living identity because it decides its key itself. It can be anything from a stone to a shell and it changes its key every few years.

The Forces call The Paradigm a void point in itself since it contains such raw energy and only a selected few qualify to explore that dimension. However… Mrs. Jung thought differently. She believed The Paradigm was much more than just a void point. She believed it could serve a greater purpose like foreseeing the future. You agreed with her.

And only one other person ever agreed with the two of you. The Keeper.

Mrs. Jung became qualified enough to be able to access The Paradigm but because of her radical views, she was never given a permit. As she started studying the core by herself through old research and occasionally sneaking in the nth dimension, she realised that she was not the first person to think about this phenomenon.

That meant that the Forces and the higher ups were deliberately hiding the existence of the future time travel possibility from the travellers. If the void points outside The Paradigm but inside the nth dimension could be configured to a future time and location and the higher-ups had deemed that ‘dangerous’, that meant they had something to hide.

It was bad for many reasons– travellers sometimes got lost in the commons. Almost all the common points were determined and stored in the databases so it was easy enough to extract a traveller from any of those common points. Sure, new common points were created every day and there were some territories in the nth dimension that remained unexplored, but to intentionally conceal the whole nature of the void points?

It reeks of something amiss. It is dangerous in too many ways.

When Mrs. Jung got lost, you and Yunho had just graduated. Since you were the bestest of friends, Mrs. Jung had hoped that you would one day become partners. That you would both become travellers and explore the truth about the void points one day.

Except you cut off all ties from The Forces when they refused to look for Mrs. Jung.

And Yunho kept all his ties to become the Keeper. The guardian to the door to the nth dimension and The Paradigm.

Your first obstacle.

However, he isn’t your only obstacle. You aren’t sure if Yunho is the one who reported you to The Forces, but someone has been on your ass since the morning and you are tired of chasing them.

“Can’t even let a girl take her damned toilet break,” you mutter as you speed past a group of soldiers from The Forces, narrowly avoiding their taser guns, tranquiliser guns and whatnot. Do they wish to kill you? You are on a motorbike and tranquilising you would only ensure a painful death.

“Turn right– the closed intersection is wide enough for a bike to pass,” Wooyoung’s instructions ring in your earpiece. “200 metres now.”

You have to make the turn sooner than you can respond and tell him that the officers just so happen to be on bikes this time too. The cars are probably stationed ahead, ready to block your path. Wooyoung must know, though. He barely escaped from this endless chase and made his way straight to the base to guide you back home.

The Forces aren’t allowed to arrest you since you haven’t violated one of their laws yet, but they do not miss any opportunity to make your life miserable whenever they catch you outside. It is as if they want you to break the law and give them a reason to come barging into your house without the threats that you have made against them–

That if they ever step unwarranted within a 5 mile radius, you will expose the existence of the nature of the void points to the public. Specifically, their future time properties.

At first, it was a bluff you made when attempting to escape from one of your similar chases, but their surrender made the matter more serious. They did not wish for the public to learn that the void points could be configured to access the future. Why? You were still searching for that answer.

The tunnel ahead is dark but Wooyoung instructs you to keep your headlights off and follow his instructions. He guides you into one of the openings of the tunnels that is unlit, courtesy of Wooyoung’s hacking skills. You silently zoom inside that opening and after a few beats, you turn on the lights and head towards the exit.

“Anyone on my tail?”

“None of the official vehicles on the radar,” Wooyoung confirms. “Can’t speak for any unofficial ones.”

“I got my eyes for that… we are near the Aurora Lake, right?”

Wooyoung hums. “The door was last spotted here. Might still be here.”

“Hmm… I should head away then. The Forces might think I’m going towards the nth dimension if I head any further–”

A sharp sound of something zooming past you makes the grip on your bike shaky and you almost lose control. However, the next sound confirms that the target has hit home.

Your bike swerves dangerously, courtesy of a burst tyre. You curse loudly and Wooyoung’s panicked voice instructs you to head towards the forest opening that leads towards the lake– chances are that you could run and lose your tail. But this one…

It’s unofficial. Someone is deliberately out for you– someone who might not actually be a part of The Forces. You dare a glance behind and find a helmeted man, hot on your heels.

You have exactly 2 seconds to make a decision, and you decide to trust Wooyoung on this one just so you don’t have to hear his nagging when you get back home. If you make it back home.

Crashing your bike into the thick of the forest and jumping away from it before you lose a limb, you start to run on the rocky path. There is no clear trail and that means that this area is unmonitored. You’re not sure if Wooyoung made a wise decision, but you can’t place the blame on him since you have no other options.

You hear the bike stop and you speed up, already out of breath and tripping on every other rock. You were not dressed for this occasion. You were simply out to meet an old friend. You were in heeled boots, for fuck’s sake. You were wishing you had worn the trainers instead.

“But they don’t go as well with my skirt as the boots do,” you addressed Wooyoung while checking your outfit– one foot in the said boot and one in a trainer.

“The trainers make a nice contrast is what I’m saying,” Wooyoung spared you a glance while in the middle of fixing a meal for his friend who was coming over. Usually, he was the one going out but the roles were reversed today. “But you do you, boo. The all-black isn’t bad.”

“Hmm… It’s just because I’m in the mood for heels today. How cool will I look when I get off my bike in these heels?” You grinned, already picturing the stares you would get. Bikers really weren’t very common in this area, much less biker girls.

“Are you trying to impress Hongjoong?” Wooyoung raised a brow. You rolled your eyes.

“I just want to feel good, that’s all. If he gets impressed, that’s not on me,” you raised your hands and Wooyoung laughed. Familiar footsteps sounded and San greeted the two of you.

“Trainers or boots?” You asked.

“Boots.”

“I’m replacing you with Wooyoung. Yunho can have him,” you told him and ditched the trainers.

You wish San had said trainers. You could place the blame on him, you supposed. The meeting with Hongjoong had gone fine but you had eyes on you since you left your apartment complex. They finally got a reason to chase you when you flipped a finger at them to tell them that you knew.

Guess the blame was on you too, then.

You take out your revolver, cursing when you realise that you forgot to reload it since your last interaction with Yunho. You were not going to play russian roulette with this stranger. You dare a glance behind you, yelping as you realise that he is closer than you thought.

“Drop your weapons,” the man’s gravelly voice booms as he proceeds to load his own revolver. “I only mean to talk.”

I– singular. He is not with The Forces.

“What do you want!” It comes out more as a statement than a question and you pick a rock as you climb a rather large step, throwing it at the man with full force, which frankly isn’t much considering your awkward position. “I have nothing to offer you!”

“Fuck– You don’t know that!”

“Great. He’s angry now,” Wooyoung calls. “You’re near the lake. Do you want to keep going in this direction?”

“She could jump in the lake. I hope she knows how to swim,” you hear San’s faint voice in your earpiece and something clicks.

“Does Yunho know? If he doesn’t, tell him.”

“He–”

You don’t hear the rest of what Wooyoung is about to say because you get pulled by your leg and your face meets the sharp rock that you were just about to step on. You whimper in pain and kick violently. When the man clutches his eye, you’re glad that you wore the heels after all.

The trainer wouldn’t have hurt him like this.

You click your gun, aiming at the man’s leg but it is an empty shot. Before you can click again, the gun gets punched out of your hand and the man aims his gun at your head.

You freeze. You observe.

The man is not a familiar face. He has a rather deformed face as if he was tortured or had a dangerous injury that did not heal properly. His eyes are empty and dark which just make your heart beat right in your throat. His left eye is bleeding thanks to your kick.

The man wipes the blood off his eye and winces, smacking the butt of his gun harshly against your ankle and you clutch your leg in pain. He yells at you to not move but you can hardly focus– Wooyoung and San are sprouting instructions and inquiring about your situation, the pain in your ankle and on your face is making you dizzy, and then the man is muttering something about the void points and how he simply wants to talk.

“I’m going to bind your limbs so you don’t try something stupid again. I am not going to shoot you. Is that clear? Now stop struggling."

You want to cry. He takes out a gun that carries the emblem of The Forces– a triquetra knot with looped ends. You frown in confusion– is he… a deserter?

He attempts to grip your ankles with one hand so he can shoot the web out of his other gun and bind you when the sound of an actual gunshot makes you tremble with fear. For a few seconds, you think it is your ankle that he has mistakenly shot and the pain hasn’t registered yet, but then you hear a familiar voice.

“Y/n, run!”

The Keeper.

You kick one last time for good measure, smacking the man’s jaw in the process before you all but crawl up towards the top of the hill where Yunho is waiting, his gun aimed at the path behind you and shooting anywhere the man dares to step–

Until he, too, is out of bullets. Then he grabs you by the arm and you both run for your life.

“Are you stupid?” You ask while running. “You wasted your bullets!”

“At least I brought you time,” he mutters, sparing a glance and clicking his tongue in disappointment. You are not sure if the heat in your cheeks is from running or his displeasure triggered by whatever reason (the sight of you, it seems like.)

You both duck when you hear a gunshot and you speed up, ditching the clear path for a shortcut that surely leads towards the lake. You ask him if he’s gonna push you in the lake or something but he tells you to save your breath.

You realise why.

The door to the nth dimension stands at the edge of the Aurora Lake in all its mystical glory– carved out of ice in an intricate pattern that seems to resemble endless looping patterns and knots.

“Don’t tell me that we’re headed for the door,” you pull Yunho’s hand as he leads you into the thick of the forest– a path that will surely open right in front of the door. You spotted this path while running just a few seconds earlier.

“There is no other way… unless you want to risk drowning. He is a rogue, dangerous man. He will kill without hesitation.”

You harshly pull him as you pause in the middle of running, so close to the door that you can feel its pull. “Are you insane? If I step inside the nth dimension, I’ll have a target on my head.”

“You already do,” Yunho warns you with wide eyes, lips parted as he sucks in hungry breaths. “Come. There is no other way. There is no time.”

“The Forces will come for you–”

“They’re already coming for me. I left my post,” he informs you right as you spot the uniformed men.

You want to tell Yunho that he should at least let your hand go. It is not a good sight for the Forces to see– the Keeper with the Seeker, hand in hand. It wouldn’t matter to them if you both are risking your life to avoid being taken hostage by a deserter. They will simply fuck your lives up. You feel dread looming in the air–

And then you are out in the open, a short path to the door. You can make it past the uniformed men in time, but will the door open for you? It opens only to the keepers and the licensed travellers who possess the key to the nth dimension.

You are a couple of steps away from the door when all hell breaks loose.

The guards from the Forces realise that the Keeper is going to open the door. Though the Keeper has authority to open the door, there is still a certain procedure you must follow before opening the door to the nth dimension. You simply cannot walk inside.

The deserter realises the same thing and shoots his real gun in warning. Yunho instinctively ducks and grabs both of your hands. You lock eyes and share a silent nod, making a unanimous decision to risk getting lost in the nth dimension to save your lives.

Except some genius shoots at your joined hands. With a web gun.

Instead of your feet. Maybe they thought that the free would drag the tied if they shoot one of you. But what was shooting the hands meant to do except make sure you both enter the nth dimension–

Or did they think the Keeper would not take you inside? Or push you inside while staying back?

Yunho curses and brings your joined hands to the door.

He does not have to pull out the physical key because the door unlocks itself. Without him pushing the key in the lock.

You don’t have time to process anything before he jumps inside, dragging you along and you are welcomed with endless darkness as the door shuts behind you.

You both clutch on to each other and soon, you softly land on a flat surface, all tangled limbs. It takes you a few moments to gather yourself before you push yourself off Yunho, but your conjoined hands do not allow you much range of movement.

“Uh, can you sit? I’m going to get a shoulder cramp–”

“Wait, uh…” Yunho awkwardly fumbles his limbs and you both spend a few moments pushing and pulling until you realise that the only option is for you to sit between his legs so your upper limbs don’t hurt with the strain. Your ankle is already in so much pain so you give in and keep a respectable distance as you sit in front of each other with you crouched between his legs.

You look at him, all messy hair that falls on his forehead and flushed cheeks.

And then you both are laughing, looking away in disbelief.

“This was very stupid of you. You had no plan,” you say between laughs. “I’ve never seen you act so irrationally. You always plan and win.”

“I still won,” he shrugs half-heartedly. “I saved you. We’re safe here. No one else can find us here.”

“And we have no means to get out,” you sigh, looking at your conjoined hands. They feel numb. “Do you know where we are?”

Yunho looks around again. The surroundings are dimly lit without a source of light. The surface and the walls that seem to surround you are but an illusion, as everything else is in the nth dimension. Unless you both are at one of the common points, there is no way for anyone else to know your location.

Well. There is one. The Paradigm Key. But Yunho is not sure if San will ever reveal it to Wooyoung. They are your only hope.

“Not at a common point,” Yunho sighs. “We could try getting there, but if we alert the Forces, we both get arrested.”

“So we die here,” you conclude.

“You know we can’t die here,” Yunho smiles faintly. “We might get mad, yes, but never hungry, never thirsty. No sleep and no humane needs.”

“I wish they also factored in no pain,” you mutter.

Yunho dips his chin as he looks at your face intently, his eyes slowly scanning your face.

At first, you try to avoid his gaze but then you notice his frown getting deeper. You raise a brow.

“What happened, y/n? What went wrong this time?”

You don’t appreciate the sudden onset of questions.

“What’s it to you?”

Yunho looks down at the space between you both and notices the big, dark bruise on your ankle. “Does that hurt?”

“A bit, yes,” you admit. In this cramped space thanks to your webbed hands, you can’t stretch your legs and your ankle is feeling the strain but you are not going to mention it.

“Did you fall from your bike?” He asked in a low voice, scanning your body for more injuries.

“...No.”

Then his eyes fix on yours.

“He did this to you? That man from earlier?”

“He pulled me while I was climbing and I smacked my face on a rock, and then he hit my ankle with his gun,” you tell him just so he can shut up. “No biggie. You can laugh if you want–”

Yunho pulls you towards him with a sharp tug and your legs bunch between your bodies. You are grateful for the barrier but he is not having it.

“Straighten your legs.”

“What is wrong with you–”

“I know it hurts. You’re in pain, I can see it,” he taps your knees with your joined hands. “Come on. Straighten your legs and rest them over my thighs.”

“No,” you sigh, remembering how you were in similar positions not too long ago. “It’s okay, I can manage.”

“Y/n. You don’t want me to make you do it. Come on.”

His voice contains heavy warning. With a sigh, you obey and awkwardly rest your hurt leg on top of his. You use your webbed hands as an anchor and lift to tuck your other leg under you, allowing you both a more comfortable position.

“See?” Yunho hums in appreciation. “That wasn’t so hard. Now…”

He tugs you closer and you suck your breath in surprise. He locks his eyes with you.

“How could you let him do this to you?”

“As if I had a choice!” You say in a hushed voice. “I had my gun, I was about to shoot him. He overpowered me.”

“Never caught up to self defence, did you?”

“Not after you– The Academy,” you say, recalling your student life. You used to spar with Yunho for practice. You never practised after you left The Academy.

Sparring meant that you were physical with each other. Such a position as yours now wasn’t new, but the circumstances now…

“Look at you. Not a hair out of place even when we sparred, and now?” He sounds as disappointed as he looks and your cheeks flame with something resembling shame.

“You’re all hurt and bloody now. I don’t like seeing you like this.”

“You don’t like that someone else did it,” you correct. “Never got why you’re so obsessed with me. Always choosing me to spar back in school. Did the size difference make it fun for you? Or do you just hate me so much that you will take every chance to hurt me?”

“I chose you so you could get stronger and learn what it’s like to fight against someone with a similar stature as me,” he explains while his eyes glaze with something unrecognisable, gaze fixed on the skin near your lips. “I don’t hate you, y/n. You know that. But…”

He seems at a loss for words, his gaze still on the same spot. You lightly shuffle under his gaze, conscious. You try to flip your hair back, away from your face but your styled curls remain matted to your cheeks.

“Am I very badly hurt?” You ask him and you hate how small you sound. “I mean… what are you looking at?”

“It’s just that… you’re always so put together, and you’re such a mess now. Everything… is out of place.”

“Yeah, well…” you look away. “Happens to the best of us. Now can you stop staring at me and think of a way out?”

“Not like this,” he says, bringing your conjoined hands to nudge you and make you look at him. “Only I am allowed to see you in this state, you understand? You’re not going out like this, looking so…”

He bites his words back and his gaze falls near your lips again.

“Don’t move.”

You don’t have time to react before he presses his lips to the corner of your lips.

You instinctively draw away and pull back but he seems to be in a daze. “I’m only fixing your smudged lipstick. Do not move.”

He pulls you closer and you contain a yelp, attempting to push him back but he presses his lips against your skin again and you pause. You let him rub his lips against your skin, caress the edge of your lips until you’re out of breath and he is satisfied.

“There,” he draws back, inspecting the spot that he claimed had smudged lipstick. “All good now–”

He meets your eyes and finds your pupils wide. All of a sudden, it feels like the first time that you are looking at each other. This time, your eyes fall on his lips that are slightly flushed from the transferred colour of the lipstick and you can’t help but imagine–

This is how his lips would look if he kissed you.

He can’t take the look in your eyes when your gaze travels up. He draws closer, nudging your nose with his lightly before trailing the tip of his nose to your cheek where your hair is sticking to a bruise. He gently pushes until your hair is out of your face and then he blows on the open wound on your cheekbone, kissing the spot right next to it as if attempting to tell you that it is okay.

He proceeds to trail the tip of his nose to the other side of your face, pushing your hair out of your face and then he dips down and nudges your chin up with your hands so he can take care of all the bruises, blowing and kissing around them. You become putty in his hold and you’re glad that your joined hands below your chin remain acting as an anchor–

But then he pulls your hands down and starts to trail his lips down the side of your neck.

“Yunho.”

You warn him. You are glad your voice comes out steady and not shaky like your current internal state. He brings your hands to push your hair away from your front and then he kisses near the wound on your collarbone, burying his face in the crook of your neck and inhaling sharply. Your breath hitches and you make the mistake of looking down at him when he draws away.

He must be under some influence. There is no way he is drunk on this moment alone.

He finds the spot near your lips again. Perhaps, your lipstick is still smudged or perhaps, he is kissing that spot just because he can. He draws back to look at you and when he finds your eyes filled with something right, he goes ahead and rubs his lips against yours.

At first, he pulls away and inspects your eyes again, looking for any sign of discomfort or displeasure. But he swears that all he sees is his own mirrored expressions of something unfamiliar, something almost dangerous yet exciting. Or maybe, he tells himself, he is only doing this because he’s so, so mad that you are hurt like this.

He has never felt like this when he sparred with you at the Academy or actually fought against you like recently. With guns and legitimate threats. Yes, he has a soft spot for you but was that spot occupying the entirety of his being?

He had no idea.

He pecks your lips this time, lightly, softly, marvelling at the feeling blooming in his chest. Do you feel the same? Are you confused right now? Do you like this? If not, why are you not threatening to kill him in the most painful way possible like you usually do?

“Say something,” he all but begs. The only sound you are capable of producing resembles a needy whimper so he pecks your parted lips again, and again. Softly. Lightly. A kiss.

You make the mistake of kissing his lips back.

Then he bites your lower lip lightly and pulls back, leaving you stranded and expecting more. He looks at you with glazed eyes and proceeds to rest his head against your shoulder.

“Don’t you ever appear in front of me like this again, all bloody and bruised,” he warns in a low guttural tone and you wonder if he’s shivering. “Only I am allowed to hurt you. Only I am allowed to take care of you if you get hurt. No one else. Got it?”

You have to physically keep yourself from shaking under his hold. It’s too much– you are confused. You are not hurting anymore. Instead, something unfamiliar and warm courses through your entire being.

You don’t know how long you remain in this position. It must have been a good few minutes, but he doesn’t meet your eyes again. He simply rests his forehead against your shoulder, occasionally shifting to brush his lips against your exposed skin, never kissing. You start to wonder if you hallucinated the whole thing.

“What did you do, Yunho?” You ask softly, only after you are sure that you have regained a semblance of your control.

“I don’t know,” he responds. “All I know is that I don’t like what happened. It shouldn’t have happened. Why was that bastard chasing you?”

“I didn’t do anything,” you say and he finally pulls away. He looks back to normal now. “I was out meeting a friend but the guards from The Forces were trailing me ever since I left the house. Wooyoung was on call with me and he was instructing me so I could lose them but when I did, this man appeared out of nowhere and tried shooting my bike. I ditched it before I could get in an accident, and then this… happened.”

“It could have been so dangerous,” he scolds as if it is your fault and you pout angrily. “What if I was not there to save your ass, Seeker?”

“But you were.”

Wrong thing to say.

Something dark flashes in his eyes again and you look away.

“Can you stop looking at me like I’m a snack?”

That finally got the Keeper to break out from his trance and he starts to laugh. You shake your head in disappointment.

“What is your deal? Stop pretending that you care about me.”

“But I do,” he says in a firm voice. “Wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble if I didn’t.”

“Well, then stop pretending you’re not enjoying the fact that I’m hurt,” you attempt. “You don’t have to fix me. I’m not broken.”

“But you look so beautiful,” he says, his brows furrowing and you can tell that it is genuine. Your heart absolutely breaks as memories of your past with him threaten to surface. “Even like this. I… couldn’t let anyone else see you like this.”

“Do you have a crush on me or something?”

“Crush? No,” He looks offended. “I’m just… I– I don’t know, I–”

Before he can form a coherent response, you hear overlapping chatter and you look up.

It has to be Wooyoung and San.

“You hear this?”

“Yeah,” he doesn’t sound pleased and you wonder why. “Can you get up?”

“I can try,” you tell him and you both shuffle, supporting each other as you stand up.

“They will find their way here, just wait,” he tells you and you nod. He seems out of breath and looks as if he is trying to say something.

“Whatever happened here… let’s forget about it, okay? We have more pressing matters to attend to.”

“Funny coming from you, but sure,” you mutter. “Don’t ever try this stupid shit again.”

“Whatever.”

“Hey, guys!” Wooyoung waves as he appears into your area and then bursts into laughter at the sight of your webbed hands, clutching on to San for dear life who seems thoroughly amused too. “That’s one way to make sure they don’t kill each other!”

You and Yunho meet eyes and look away just as quickly. San shakes his head and fishes out a dagger to expertly cut the web without hurting any of you and when he frees you, he passes you both weird looks.

“How did this even happen?”

“We were running away,” you say and fix your hair properly this time, still feeling the ghost of Yunho’s lips and nose on your face.

“Running away?” San raises an eyebrow and looks at Yunho. “Never mind. I had to tell Wooyoung about The Paradigm Key.”

“Where is it?” You ask and when none of the three respond, you look at Wooyoung, thoroughly offended.

“Wooyoung, if you don’t tell me, god help me, I will–”

“Okay, stop. You need to calm down first,” Wooyoung motions with his hands, rubbing your wrists to soothe the redness from the webs. “And we need to get the hell out of here. The Forces do not need to find all of us here. Yunho, you’re coming with us. You’re only going to get arrested if you go back.”

“I’m not taking him back with us. He can… find refuge elsewhere,” you mutter. San looks torn, observing the way you and Yunho are shooting daggers at each other.

“Did something happen, or am I reading too much into things?” San wonders out loud.

“Nothing happened,” you mutter. “Let’s go. Keeper, do your actual job for once and find a way to get us out of here.”

“Right,” Yunho almost scowls. “Follow me.”

It was surprisingly easy to shift the door to your desired waterbody location once you were inside the nth dimension.

Or at least, that’s what you thought until you got back home and you all settled down at your workplace– the base– after a hearty dinner.

“Wait, so am I understanding this right?” you are out of retorts, for once. You simply stare dumbly at Yunho. “The reason we opened the door to my pool here, which I thought was odd enough– because doesn’t the door need the energy of a lake or something?– is because of Wooyoung?”

“Precisely,” Yunho shrugs. “The reason the door has been circling around this town is because Wooyoung lives here. He is a part of The Paradigm. Haven’t you noticed something odd about him?”

“Apart from the fact that he doesn’t possess the ability to ever shut up?” You glance at your friend who is currently explaining something to San very animatedly. San, ever the kind soul, simply watches in awe. You are sure that San isn’t even processing anything. He is probably amazed by Wooyoung’s energy.

Yunho chuckles lightly. “Come on. Spill.”

“He does have this obsessive desire to maintain order,” you admit. No harm in discussing that since Yunho was wise enough to deduce that if he hadn’t already. “He loves the Fibonacci. Watch the pattern of his leg taps.”

Sure enough, Yunho sees the pattern. Wooyoung taps his legs rhythmically in a fixed Fibonacci pattern but it is purely subconscious. Each leg tap is the sum of the two preceding leg taps. He goes from 2 to 3, to 5, 8, 13 and he manages to reach a solid 21 when he realises that you both have fallen silent and are fixated on how his hands tap his thigh. He raises his hands in surrender and the two of you go back to your discussion.

“Strange, isn’t it? I thought it is the aftereffect of being conceived in The Paradigm, but apparently it is deeper than that?”

Yunho nods. “He is the key to the core of the nth dimension– The Paradigm. I have been studying the meaning of how this works all along– Wooyoung was only born a few years ago. Who or what was the key before that? Are there more keys?”

“That is not what’s important right now,” you hold your hand in the air to stop him. “You are telling me that Wooyoung can summon the door, access the nth dimension and The Paradigm as he pleases and pass undetected through all the common points?”

“The last part is a theory, but yes. I don’t think he will show up on the radar as we do. If his energy is more similar to the energy in the dimensions, then yes. He will not be detected.”

“So how could you conceal this information from me?” You ask through gritted teeth as you lean in. “We could have been finding Mrs. Jung all along.”

“See, that’s the thing,” Yunho mirrors your furious expressions. “I don’t think Mrs. Jung is lost.”

You glance at Wooyoung to make sure he isn’t listening. “The fuck you mean?”

Yunho frowns as if offended by your dirty tongue. “I think there are two possibilities. That Mrs. Jung left of her own free will or initially got lost and is now refusing to come back of her own free will, or she is under some sort of an arrest for knowing too much and we have been lied to.”

“That is two and a half possibilities,” you fold your arms and slump back. “I don’t like this.”

“Can’t do anything about that,” Yunho mutters.

“Not to mention that there are other unfactored possibilities,” you say. “Who else knows about Wooyoung being The Paradigm Key?”

“No one but us,” Yunho confirms.

“We shall keep it that way,” you stand up and look at him. You do not like the way he looks up at you with all his attention devoted to your face. “I think we need to access the Paradigm.”

“That’s… madness,” Yunho shakes his head.

“That’s reasonable,” you counter. “Not only for Mrs. Jung, but to confirm the extent of Wooyoung’s relationship with The Paradigm. If we’re lucky, we can explore the void points inside as well. It would be good to gather some dirt on The Forces so they do not immediately arrest us when we come back.”

“Very illegal,” Yunho scratches his chin as he looks at his friends. You notice the way his hair curls at the nape of his neck. You would recommend a haircut, but you kind of like the length–

“They are eventually going to arrest us anyway, whether we have dirt on them or not,” Yunho looks at you again and you pretend that you had not been staring. “Why do you think Mrs. Jung is not back? I believe she fears arrest too. You know how bad the prisons here are– they torture the truth out of you but still don’t get satisfied.”

“Well, I believe that Mrs. Jung is lost inside The Paradigm,” you tell him. “If Wooyoung is the key and she is his mother, she might have accessed The Paradigm somehow. And I intend to explore that possibility whether you like it or not. Are you going to join me or are you going to sit back and watch? A house arrest here cannot be more fun.”

“Either we all go or we don’t,” Wooyoung suddenly announces as he joins the two of you. You are surprised by his sudden declaration of loyalty. He winks at you and says, “If something happens, I would like it to happen to all of us.”

San shakes his head in disappointment. “And who is going to save our asses if something happens to us?”

“That is the thing!” Wooyoung defends his point. “At least I know I won’t be betrayed by my friends if we all go.”

“I can betray you even if I go with you,” Yunho comments.

“Likewise,” you shoot daggers at him. He returns the sentiment.

“We’re doing this together, in any case,” San ruffles his short hair. “I just have one request. Can we get some sleep before we go? I want to be in the best spirits when I leave.”

“Uh… I guess so?” You didn’t expect San to be so relaxed about this. You were ready to pack your bags and leave immediately. “This base is secure. If anything happens, you’ll know, so you can sleep peacefully.”

“Perfect,” San smiles. “See you all in the morning. Come on Wooyoung, show me to my room.”

“My room–”

“I am going to get some sleep. This is not a sleepover–”

Their arguing fades as they head towards the lift. That leaves you and Yunho, alone.

When he bites his lips out of habit, you almost lose your mind.

“Get out of my sight,” you say and go towards the computers to take one final look at the security before heading towards your room.

Yunho doesn’t obey. He loiters. He follows you and hovers around you as you make quick work of the security alarms. Then he gets into the lift with you, all silent and calm but present. Then he follows you all the way to your room until you stand outside the door and turn around.

“Do you have something to say to me?”

“Nothing,” he smiles and there is something mischievous about it. This little shit. “Just wondering what your room looks like now.”

Your brows scrunch in surprise and mild annoyance. “Why would you care about that?”

“Because I still remember how particular you were about how your room looked back at The Academy. Remember when we were roomies on a trip and you brought an entire suitcase of things you couldn’t live without?”

“I still cannot live without my fur eye mask, yes. And my silk pillows. And my soft blanket, if that’s what you are worried about.”

“I remember a bear plushie too,” Yunho comments.

“Your room,” you ignore that and point at the door in front of yours. “Let me know if you need anything.”

You enter your room, not caring if he catches a glimpse inside. He’s seen it all anyway. However, you pause when you are about to shut the door. He is still watching you with a cryptic face.

“Is something wrong?” You ask, genuinely worried. “You’ve been strange all day.”

“Are you… okay?” He asks. “We can delay the trip to the nth dimension until you heal.”

“We cannot delay it,” you say. “The Forces will make up an excuse to come barging in here. We need to disappear before that happens. Besides, it’s just a swollen ankle and a few bruises. Nothing a good night’s sleep can’t cure.”

“Sleep well, then,” he says softly.

You stand staring at each other for a few moments, none of you moving or even speaking. Just the unspoken question–

What the hell happened today in the nth dimension between you two?

If you were worried about Yunho acting strange, he sure sobers up when he witnesses The Paradigm Key actually work.

Wooyoung has no idea how to summon the door, but he sits by the same pool the door opened to yesterday. Yunho does the rest of the work by giving some vague instructions to Wooyoung– something about connecting with the water on a deeper level and looking for the orderly energy of The Paradigm in his core. Wooyoung has no idea what Yunho is on about but he shuts his eyes and you see when it happens.

When he lets go of his surroundings and starts to tap with both his fingers incessantly in rhythmic patterns. Almost like a code. San points at the edges of the pool and you see how the water droplets start to arise and remain static in the air, a stillness washing over the surroundings.

“So much energy,” San comments. “If anyone is nearby, they can definitely feel it too.”

“Let’s hope not,” you say and San agrees, looking sombre. It is nothing short of supernatural to watch Wooyoung nod ominously and see the door materialise in front of you from thin air, the door opening on its own without a key and inviting you to its unwelcoming white void.

Yunho nods. He has hidden the physical key to the nth dimension in the apartment. He doesn’t need it since Wooyoung is with you all. Besides, using the physical key would document your entry. It works like a marker.

Wooyoung opens his eyes and gasps lightly. He expected this but he is still a little surprised. When he turns to look at you with a feline expression of curiosity, you smile.

A thought passes in your mind and your smile falls.

Would Mrs. Jung approve of what you are about to do?

Yunho seems to read your mind, or perhaps, he shares the same thoughts as you. He nudges your hand with his and when you mirror the doubt that he holds in his eyes, he relaxes.

“One last time. Are you sure about this?” He asks.

“Not sure, but we have no other choice,” you say the obvious and he nods in agreement this time.

Checking if you have all your belongings, you give the signal. Yunho is the first to step inside, so very familiar with the nth dimension. He waits until all of you are inside before he shuts the door.

And then you are surrounded by nothing but white walls all around you, over you and under you.

You curse loudly and ask Yunho to lead the way, sharing a look. He turns to Wooyoung.

“You are our compass now. We will go wherever your instincts take you.”

“You sure?” He asks, looking conflicted.

“100 percent,” Yunho assures. “You can tell where the core is, right? The Paradigm?”

Wooyoung points in a direction towards his east. Yunho nods.

“We’re accessing The Paradigm and avoiding all common and void points before that unless something catches your attention. We’ll follow your lead.”

“It’s what’s after accessing The Paradigm that changes everything,” San reminds Wooyoung. “Just help us avoid all these points and any travellers until then.”

“Sure,” Wooyoung claps his hands and inhales, cheering up. “Let’s move.”

You don’t follow immediately. It isn’t until Yunho finds you standing hesitant that you finally move. He asks you if something is wrong.

“I wish I could tell him to keep his expectations low. There is a chance we might not find his mother,” you say and Yunho agrees. “I can’t do that, though. That sounds like a cruel thing to say.”

“You care a lot about him,” Yunho notes. There is no apprehension in his voice.

“He’s my family,” you say the obvious.

“I think San may have already talked about this to Wooyoung last night. I asked him to,” Yunho says. “If not, he will soon. Wooyoung listens to him, and San knows how to deliver such a message kindly.”

“I appreciate that,” you mean it. A faint smile crawls on Yunho’s lips and you ignore it. You have to stay vigilant right now– anyone from The Forces could be paroling in here. You could accidentally come across a traveller and they could report you to the headquarters. You have to look for the common points and avoid them, and keep an eye out for the void points. The nth dimension is changing infinitely and you don’t want to accidentally take a wrong step–

Yunho’s hand brushes against yours as you step into a narrow path. The space is too narrow for him to step away and the action seems to be unintentional but when you exit the narrow path and come across a wide expanse, he still remains just as close.

You can’t tell if you like it or not. He has been crowding your mind ever since you infiltrated his base. Even before that, if you are honest. He is always somewhere in your headspace, but now…

Another brush of his hand and you look at him. He remains oblivious or maybe, he is good at acting.

"Let's not get distracted in here,” you comment as you create a few inches of gap between the two of you. “It could cost us.”

“I’m not distracted. I know what I want,” Yunho says in a sure voice and you are unsure if he knows what he is talking about. “Do you?”

You make a face and he snickers, intentionally stepping closer this time. “You’re being a menace, Yunho.”

“You love that,” he has the audacity to lean down and whisper in your ear and you squeal, swatting at him and smacking his arm. He laughs loudly and you flip your hair back in annoyance before brisk-walking to where San and Wooyoung have paused their trek and stand watching you in surprise.

“When did you two get so chummy?” Wooyoung wiggles his brows. “I thought you were sworn enemies.”

“Remind him,” you point and fix your black jacket before linking your arms with Wooyoung and San.

“Don’t leave me behind!”

“Guard us!” You yell at Yunho in response and the duo on either side snickers.

Since there is no concept of time in the nth dimension, especially when you start to move deeper, you start to feel tense. If Yunho had the physical key, it would give a hint of the time difference with the world you just left, but now, it could very well be a year passed in the real world when it felt like only a few hours had passed in the nth dimension.

That is why entering the common points is so important. Not only do they track your location but you can adjust the time difference with the devices set up there so when you go back to the real world, just about the same time you actually spent here has passed in the real world.

The door to The Paradigm stands loud and proud in the middle of the white spherical base you have been navigating all this time. The knots on the door move endlessly, creating different patterns but most commonly, the triquetra knot to indicate the past, the present and the future.

You observe Wooyoung. Since you entered the nth dimension, he hasn’t once had the desire to use the Fibonacci sequence anywhere. He is acting normal for once.

“Should we actually enter The Paradigm?” San asks, unsure. “I think that is less risky than entering one of the void points here and trying to navigate from there.”

The Paradigm is all unexplored territory for a good while now. The Paradigm hasn’t had a solid key in years since the last one evaporated into thin air. That was definitely around Wooyoung’s birth, and you are not surprised that no one made the connection. No one knows the truth about Wooyoung’s birth.

Wooyoung stands with his gaze stuck to the door. Does he feel the urge to step closer? It sure looks like it– he seems to be physically holding himself back.

“Mum might not be there,” Wooyoung talks about this matter for the first time. “She might have never told us because she did not want us to be here.”

“Or she could be stuck,” you counter gently. “We don’t know anything until we find out for ourselves.”

Wooyoung extends his hands and you take it. San takes his other hand. You look back at Yunho and extend your hand.

“Let’s step in together. Do not let go of each other no matter what, okay?” You remind them for the umpteenth time.

You follow Wooyoung’s steps. He rests his forehead on the centre of the trinity knot, driven by instinct alone. The knot starts to unravel and disappear, a pathway materialising in the middle. All you need to do is step inside.

“It will be okay,” Yunho comforts. “Let’s do this.”

Wooyoung steps inside first and you all follow.

As soon as the door closes, you are all hit by a burst of energy so harsh that it almost makes your grips on each other loose. You clutch at each other and miraculously manage to hold on until you slam against a hard surface with considerable force.

You groan and your eyes take a moment to adjust, but you can smell it before you see it.

Rain.

“Ain’t no fucking way,” Wooyoung gets up and brushes his clothes, looking around. You contain a gasp as you look around what appears to be an old city, all ruins and dust. The sun is nowhere in sight since the clouds cover the expanse and you don’t hear a human soul in this area.

“Mrs. Jung was right,” you look at Yunho. “Alternate dimension. I know this place.”

“Sector 1,” Yunho confirms. “Except… not the Sector 1 that we know.”

San finds a newspaper stashed in the trashcan. “2004. That’s before the Sector 1 Development Project, right?”

You nod. “The question is, why are we here? The Paradigm wouldn’t bring us here just for sightseeing or a look back in time. There must be something here we have to find– if not Mrs. Jung, then a clue.”

“Let’s search then. Divide and conquer?” Yunho asks.

“Pairs,” Wooyoung agrees and pairs with San as if it is the most natural thing.

“I thought we are a team,” you pout.

“I don’t trust them,” Wooyoung jokes. “Let’s keep one of them with us at all times.”

“True,” you can’t fight that argument. You don’t want to admit that you trust Yunho enough to let him search on his own, so you have no choice but to follow him in the opposite direction from the duo.

“Does The Paradigm know why we entered it?”

“Maybe,” you wonder. “It is a living entity. It knows our desires. It transported us to Sector 1 for a reason, after all.”

“And what reason is that?” Yunho asks.

“Wooyoung,” you admit with a smile. “He once got lost here as a kid, so I think he knows exactly where to go. Another reason, though… Mrs. Jung’s favourite hangout spot is somewhere around that river,” you point at the distance. You have to cross a bridge to get there.

“Do you think Mrs. Jung is just sitting here and waiting for us?” Yunho ponders.

“Can’t be that simple,” you think. “If we’re lucky, we might find clues. You know how she loves being cryptic, right?”

“Where do you think I learned that skill?” He scoffs. He helps you jump over a big gap between the bridge and the road. If this is Sector 1 from 2004, the bridge was being torn apart before a new one was built in its place.

When you grip his hand and jump towards him, he steadies you with a hand on your waist. Before you can shrug it off, he lets go and straightens your clothes and hair for you.

“Why do you keep fixing my hair? I can do that myself.” You ask as he continues to firmly grip your wrist to keep you close while he tucks the strands behind your ears.

“Your hair is blocking my vision.”

“My hair is blocking my vision and I am perfectly fine because I get to see less of you that way,” you mutter and push his hand away, fluffing your hair so he cannot see your flaming cheeks. He chuckles to himself.

You start to move towards your left. It is not there yet, but at the corner of an alley not far from the bridge is a small coffee shop that was Mrs. Jung’s getaway. You are not sure what you will find there now.

“I don’t get why you are so obsessed with me,” you sigh.

“Because you are still my best friend even though it’s been years since we acted like friends.”

You look at him. “I thought I was your archnemesis.”

“Can’t we be both?” He grins. You hate the way his eyes curve downwards. You hate how fluffy and soft his hair looks. You hate how cozy he looks in his casual flannels.

You hate how he feels so familiar.

“You can’t say things like that after you left me alone, by the way,” you tell him casually, afraid your voice would betray you. “You lost the right to call yourself my friend the day you chose to side with The Forces.”

If hearing that hurts Yunho, he doesn’t show it. Or maybe, he has heard or thought about this too many times himself.

“You never thought about why I joined The Forces, did you?”

You step into the alley. The location of the cafe should be at the other end. “What does it matter? You betrayed me. You betrayed Mrs. Jung. You sided with the enemy.”

“They say keep your enemies closer,” he challenges and you spare him a glance, speeding towards the end. He jogs lightly to keep up with you. “Think about it when you get a moment to spare.”

“I would rather use my free time thinking of ways I could kill you. The current count is 121.”

“Ah,” Yunho sounds awfully pleased. “So you think about me that much?”

Well. Fuck.

“Oh, look,” you have reached the corner of the alley. “Absolutely nothing but ruins. What do we make of this?”

Yunho kicks the rubble and rubbish with his sneakers. He crouches in between to inspect anything that catches his attention. You copy him. For once, you are wearing trainers. They are not so bad after all. They come in handy at times like these–

“Now what is that?”

Yunho walks towards you and does the honour of kneeling in front of you to pick up a shimmering little stone. It isn’t until he digs it up from between other stones that you both gasp lightly, meeting eyes.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“The dichroic cube?” Yunho says, inspecting the translucent thing. “I don’t think this is a coincidence. Could The Forces have planted it here?”

The dichroic cube is the chemical element used to calibrate void points. It is a registered derivative of uranium to use specifically inside the nth dimension and by extension, The Paradigm. When uranium is subjected to a certain cooling and compression sequence aligned with the Fibonacci sequence, it abandons its chaotic lattice to crystallise into spirals that echo the existence of phi– the golden ratio. Thus, a stone that dichroics not only light but time itself is formed.

The dichroic cube is used as a grounding device for the common points. It is what forces the void points to transform into a common point so that the Travellers can use it as location markers and adjust the time settings. For the dichroic cube to be lying in here…

“This must be an unregistered dichroic cube, but how did it make it out of the headquarters of The Forces?” Yunho asks. You take the cube and inspect it. It’s been a while since you have seen the cube up this close.

“Maybe someone stole it,” you look at him. “Mrs. Jung.”

“Why?” Yunho asks. You are not sure. “The dichroic cube by itself… isn’t it useless? Unless it is attached to the time device that is used in the common points.”

“It is useless,” you agree. “I think we should find Wooyoung. If the dichroic cube is here, there must be something else where Wooyoung has gone, or there must be more of these cubes. I… I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

Yunho shifts uncomfortably. “Do you think it’s a trap?”

“It’s not that,” you say as you start to walk back towards the meeting point– where you all landed. “It’s the implication of finding the cube here. Is this… a common point that Mrs. Jung has created for herself?”

Yunho stops in his tracks and you pause. You can practically see the cogs in his brain turning. “I… have a theory but I’m going to hold on to it until I’m sure.”

“It better be good,” you warn.

You reach the meeting point shortly and sit cross-legged in front of each other with the cube in between, glaring at it incessantly as if your watchful eyes would make the cube change forms or make it float. It isn’t until you hear familiar chatter that you both look up towards the duo who arrive, looking rather pleased.

“Did you guys find anything?” You ask.

“Yeah– hold up,” Wooyoung moves towards the dichroic cube but you hold a hand up to make him pause.

“Tell me what you found first.”

“A message,” Wooyoung reveals after narrowing his eyes. “Coordinates and a date.”

As soon as you and Yunho meet eyes, it clicks. You begrudgingly hand the cube to San and forbid him from letting Wooyoung touch it.

“He’s the key. He might transport us somewhere wrong if he touches the cube,” you explain.

“Why would someone leave this here?” Wooyoung asks, looking carefully at the cube where it rests in San’s hands.

“It has to be your mum, Wooyoung. She chose the two locations that only you would know,” you tell Wooyoung. “The place where she found you when you got lost as a child, and her favourite hangout spot. She wants you to take the cube and go to the prescribed time and location.”

“But this is just the cube,” Wooyoung argues. “It’s not with its mechanism. How are we going to travel both in place and time if it’s just the core element?”

“The core element in the core dimension with the key,” San reminds, failing to keep the thrill from his voice. “It sounds significant.”

“I don’t know how to navigate this, though,” Wooyoung says, hands in the pockets of his denims. He seems to be buzzing with anxious energy now. “I don’t know what those coordinates mean.”

“Lucky for you, I’ve got a map,” Yunho smiles. San looks proud. You inspect Yunho and you just know that he does not have a physical map.

“So you’re just insane,” you conclude. “You’ve got the map and coordinates memorised?”

“No, silly. Those coordinates are familiar. Remember that I used to travel with Mrs. Jung. She made me memorise a few coordinates. At that time, I thought that it was in case I ever got lost, even though those coordinates are not of any registered common points or locations in the real world significant to us.”

You have to bring a fisted hand to your mouth. You are in awe.

“I checked the locations when she went missing. I don’t think those locations have anything in common. This one… it’s the restaurant she took me to when she congratulated me on getting promoted to a Traveller.”

“Did she foresee this?” Wooyoung frowns. “We couldn’t have cracked this code if the three of us didn’t come together.”

“I feel left out,” San pouts and folds his arms. You pat his back. He met and became friends with Yunho and then Wooyoung after Mrs. Jung went missing.

“You have the most important role here, though,” you tell San.

“What’s that?”

“Keeping Wooyoung under control,” you say casually. Yunho struggles to contain a laugh and Wooyoung just glares, biting back retorts since he is so busy chewing the skin around his thumbnail. San can’t help but smile.

“Let’s hand the cube to The Key then,” Yunho takes Wooyoung’s hands and you all shuffle to hold on to each other. He tells Wooyoung the location and asks him to keep the date in his mind before touching the cube.

That is how you all are transported to the month of August in 2019, around the time when Yunho graduated and became a Traveller. It happens in seconds– as soon as Wooyoung’s hands make contact with the cube, it emanates light and comes to life. You all shut your eyes instinctively when it bursts with energy and the feeling of getting sucked into the folds of time almost makes you nauseous.

You can never get used to it– the feelings of whiplash where a hollowness passes through your insides before you are brought back to life. It feels like falling into a pit of void and then reemerging through sheer will.

The four of you manifest dangerously close to the riverside in the heart of Wonderland. You are glad that you do not emerge inside the water body, but you still go to the edge of the river and run your hands through the water to make sure it still feels the same.

It does, so you wash your hands and then flick the water droplets on the person closest to you, which just so happens to be Yunho. He gives you a warning look and you bow your head in apology. You know that he would have no trouble dunking you in the water just because he can.

“I guess you can lead the way this time?” Wooyoung says to Yunho as he looks around. It is rather sunny here this time. “Is the weather the same as that day?”

“Everything is,” Yunho replies, feeling nostalgic. “We sat here by the river to discuss our future plans and then we went there to eat hotpot and sushi.”

You follow his pointed finger to a restaurant that opens to the river. “That’s a pretty spot. Why have I never found it before?”

“It was our spot,” Yunho teases. “I suppose you have something like that too.”

You nod. You can’t be jealous.

The three of you follow Yunho inside the restaurant and search incessantly but find nothing of significance. You ask Yunho if he is sure that this is the right place and he insists that it is. San believes Yunho because he has seen him memorise the coordinates time and time again. Wooyoung doesn’t say anything. He quietly looks around.

You tap Wooyoung’s shoulder and ask him to follow you outside and he does.

“Are you alright?”

“I am,” he insists, taken aback by your question.

“You’re quiet,” you explain. “You know that you can talk to me, right?”

“I know,” Wooyoung takes your hand and squeezes it. “I’m just… wondering why mum would do all of this– scatter clues in different locations or whatever. I’m trying to think like her, but I cannot.”

“You cannot– not alone. You have me and Yunho,” you remind him. “Together, we can find these clues and find out what they mean. I personally think this whole thing is organised such that only we could discover it and eventually find her. Maybe The Forces were after her. Maybe they had a good reason to be after her,” you say, thinking about the cube you found in the previous location.

“Right? Why would she steal a dichroic cube? She didn’t have any means to have them produced herself, and The Forces keep all the scientists and chemists to themselves.”

“Did she ever travel outside of Wonderland?”

“Not that I know of,” Wooyoung rubs his face. “It’s just confusing, that’s all. And if this really is the location, why can’t Yunho find the clue?”

“Maybe the clue is not meant for Yunho,” you wonder. “Have you ever visited here?”

“Never,” Wooyoung confirms. Yunho finally emerges along with San and he shakes his head.

“Did you and Mrs. Jung do anything else that day?” You inquire. “Think about your full meeting with her that day. We can trace the paths.”

“Yeah, that might be a good idea. I think finding the cube or whatever clue here would be too obvious,” Yunho says. He recounts that day– how Mrs. Jung picked him up from The Academy, came here to sit by the riverside and wait for the confirmation of his passing. After they got a call that he had passed, they had dinner at the restaurant and then they went to visit Yunho’s parents who live just outside the town. Then she dropped him back to The Academy.

“So we should split again,” San suggests. “Vehicles won’t work here so try finding a bicycle if you can. Me and Wooyoung will have a look around here again and then follow the path back to The Academy and take a look there. You can visit your parents’ house and come back here. Whoever comes back first waits for the others.”

You all agree and part ways. Yunho recalls a bike stand near this spot so you go there first–

To find one bike.

“This is worse than the one-bed trope,” you mutter to yourself. “I’m driving.”

“Oh, come on. You can’t drive the both of us,” Yunho scoffs. “Just accept your fate and be the passenger princess.”

“Ain’t no fucking way,” you curse and get on the bike. He sits behind you happily and you start to pedal.

“See?” You grin. “I am strong. I can drive us both–”

“Honey, I’m the one driving us,” he says. Begrudgingly, you turn to find that you have another pair of pedals which are Yunho's feet.

That is how you get humbled and switch places with Yunho, resorting to your passenger princess status. You scold him for being too tall and he just asks you to hold tight as he starts to speed up.

He rides in silence for the most part. The scenery of the river that you are crossing, paired with the low sun and lack of people engages his attention but not anymore than the fact that you have wrapped your arms around his waist as if it is the most natural thing to do.

It is not the first time that you are riding a bike together– back when you were students at The Academy, Yunho and you used to sneak out and take a bike and go wherever the road took you for a breather. It has been about 4 years since Mrs. Jung went missing and you both took different paths.

Does distance make the hearts grow fonder? You don’t know, but you miss the feeling of resting your face against his back and hearing his heartbeat. You don’t dare to do it right now but you can just tell that Yunho is holding back his words.

It takes a while but eventually, you reach the town where Yunho’s parents live. He finally starts to talk and asks you if you remember the ice-cream place at the corner of the street, the playground where you both used to go as kids at nighttime to watch the stars and the broken streetlamp that they never fixed.

Of course you do.

How could you ever forget the countless times he found you at the end of a tough day at The Academy and snuck out with you so he could treat you to some ice-cream? How could you ever forget the late night conversations at the playground, talking about anything and everything while you looked at the stars? How could you ever forget the broken streetlamp where he would step closer to you in a protective manner?

“I know we kind of hate each other,” you tell him as you grow closer to the location of his house. “But I do think about the good times.”

“So you do think about me,” Yunho says with a stupid grin and you smack his back, asking him to focus on the road.

You don’t tell him that you remember the way he watched you when you ate ice-cream. He would habitually wipe your lips with the pad of his thumb and you would scold him for acting like that when tissues existed, but he was always silly and caring like that. One time, he wiped the ice-cream off your lips and then sucked his thumb clean, which earned him a smacking and silent treatment for the rest of the week.

Not because you hated it, but because you were so, so scared of falling in love.

You still are, but you sometimes wonder if it is too late for that.

You don’t tell him that you remember how he rarely ever watched the stars during those late night conversations. He would be sitting or half-lying next to you on a slide and doing anything but looking at the sky, which included playing with your fingers or your clothes, or simply watching you. Whenever you glared at him in return, he would pretend that there was a bug on your face.

You never believed him, but he didn’t need to know that. Maybe he should have.

You also don’t tell him that you remember exactly how he would casually fall back one step when you went through the broken streetlight area. His hand would hover at the small of your back protectively. As soon as you crossed the dark patch, he would match your steps again and you would smile to yourself because he was always so protective of you.

He still is. He stops in front of his parents’ house, his hand naturally coming to hold yours so you know when to let go of him and get off the bike. So you don’t accidentally get off while he parks the bike. So you don’t fall. Then he proceeds to fix your hair like he always does, brushing the strands away from your face.

“It’s not like your parents are waiting inside,” you remind him with a pout. “You don’t need to do that.”

His fingers brush the fading bruise on your cheeks and then his fingertips trail down on your neck. “Does it still hurt?”

“Are you gonna kiss it and make it better if I say it does?”

Wrong move. Yunho looks at you with surprise, eyes expectant as if that was actually a question. You scoff to cover up the heat blooming in your cheeks and brush his hands away as you take the lead, entering his house with your usual greetings.

Yunho is quiet now. He takes the lead, going towards the backyard where he must have had tea with his family and Mrs. Jung. Sure enough, under the lawn chair lies another dichroic cube, this one more red in its tinge.

“Now why would we have another one of these?” You ask, inspecting the cube. It seems to be exactly the same as the one you found earlier.

“I can’t tell if these mean something else or these are just our own little checkpoints,” Yunho says and your interest piques.

“If these dichroic cubes can act as a location marker,” you begin and immediately, Yunho picks on and starts to shake his head. “We could use these to navigate the void points if we come across any. Do you have any idea how big of an opportunity this is? Maybe this is why Mrs. Jung left all these cubes.”

“I can’t let that happen,” Yunho insists. “Exploring the void points is dangerous as it is, and we have little to no idea of what they actually are. We could end up travelling somewhere without a chance of returning. Also, we don’t know if entering a void point would alert The Forces.”

“They’re looking for us anyway,” you argue. “Look– Mrs. Jung believed that the void points inside The Paradigm had different properties than the void points outside The Paradigm in the nth dimension. I bet that at some point, The Forces have investigated The Paradigm’s void points– they’ve existed since forever. Why would they hide the properties of these void points from the travellers?”

“So we don’t stupidly go exploring them?” Yunho looks at you pointedly, hands in his pockets. “Look– I’m a Keeper. Even I am not informed about the properties of these unregistered void points. There must be a reason for that.”

“They keep you in the dark for a reason,” you conclude with an exasperated sigh. “Maybe think about that.”

Yunho doesn’t respond. He takes one of the cubes from your hand and looks at it closely.

“Do you think she is somewhere watching us collect these little easter eggs?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if she is. I bet she is at least alerted about our presence now. Question is… just how many more do we have to collect to get somewhere?”

The question gets echoed when you go back and find that Wooyoung and San have returned with not one but two dichroic cubes on top of another set of coordinates.

“If the next location gives us three, I’m officially going to lose it,” you mutter and Wooyoung cracks up.

“Your hatred for the Fibonacci sequence should be studied,” San comments, shaking his head. “I think it’s beautiful and very meaningful.”

“It is meaningful,” you agree. “Beautiful? Debatable.”

The next location which San found at The Academy leads to the main headquarters of The Forces a few years back from the current date. This time, you do find three dichroic cubes sitting prettily in one of the drawers in Mrs. Jung’s old office with a new location.

The new location transports you a few years into the future to your parents’ house in Sector 1 where Mrs. Jung last met you before disappearing for good. She came over to deliver the news of your passing out to your parents herself and they took you to a barbeque restaurant.

At the back of the restaurant is a narrow alley where you went to take a breather and ended up crying because you finally did it. Graduating from The Academy had been your biggest dream but your parents had you stressed because they were going to be relocated to another district and they wanted to see you graduate personally. For that, you needed to pass out on time. Mrs. Jung found you crying and offered you a smoke.

You took it and failed her personal test, getting an earful about how smoking is so bad for health. That made your mood better.

“That is so like mum,” Wooyoung smiles and you can tell that hearing all these stories about his mother that he was not a part of is making him miss her very much. “She would be so disappointed to learn that smoking is the first habit you picked when she went missing.”

“Had to piss her off somehow,” you mutter and look around the trash can where she would have thrown the cigarette.

Sure enough, you find 5 dichroic cubes sitting prettily in a corner with coordinates etched on the wall.

“Good thing I brought a bag along, right?” San offers when you make a face at the cubes.

“We should all have at least one cube on us, in case we get separated,” Yunho says and you narrow your eyes.

“Are you planning to get separated?”

Yunho shakes his head. “I am not, but I know that you are going to be using this opportunity to explore the void points if we come across any.”

“Because I believe that it is necessary to explore those points. Right Wooyoung?”

Wooyoung agrees enthusiastically, but you can see the conflict in his eyes. It wasn’t there ever before, but since his mother seems to be so close now, he can’t help it.

The others don’t comment on it if they see it. You turn to Yunho. “I know that you are bound by the law and whatnot, but if I come across a void point, I will be stepping inside and exploring it. The dichroic cube will help with the time configuration– you know that. If I have to do it alone, I will.”

“Y/n–”

“If Mrs. Jung is inside The Paradigm, she wouldn’t be walking around and about,” you interrupt Yunho and look at Wooyoung when you say, “She would be exploring the void points. Perhaps, she has made these locations in different points from the void points. Perhaps these locations now classify as common points inside The Paradigm. Isn’t that right, San?”

“That is a possibility, yes,” San nods. “Since we have no idea how The Paradigm is actually supposed to be like, it is possible that we have been exploring common points created by Mrs. Jung all this time. If that is the case and the cubes are what created them, that would mean that taking the cubes with us would make the common point become a void point again.”

“Hold up,” Wooyoung says. “So if we leave from here with all of the cubes, this location in this time will cease to exist because there is no more cube holding this dimension pocket intact as a common point?”

“Yes,” San shifts uncomfortably. “Maybe… we shouldn’t have taken the cubes with us. That way, we would have had more common points to transport to in case… you know. In case The Forces find us.”

A grim air of realisation settles at his statement.

“I think taking the cubes with us makes it so that we leave no trace of our travelling behind,” Yunho suggests. “This way, The Forces can’t track us. If they’re here right now at this current point, if we leave right now with all the cubes, they could end up getting lost.”

“Perfect,” you clap your hands. “Let’s go to the next location before someone finds us.”

“The next location… is The Academy,” Yunho says and looks towards you. “Did you notice the date?”

17th of August, 2021. That is two days after Mrs. Jung went missing. Wooyoung says that for you, but there is something off about the date.

“All these dates so far are related to Mrs. Jung directly, but she was not at The Academy on this day,” you recall, looking at Yunho who confirms with a sombre look in his eyes. “Something about this point seems different.”

“Only one way to find out,” Yunho says. You agree and hand Wooyoung the new five cubes. You all huddle together and get transported to that fateful day at The Academy.

Fateful for you and Yunho, since that is the day he decided to become a Keeper and you went rogue. The day you put an end to whatever friendship and love there was between the two of you as childhood friends and classmates.

When you all recover from the effects of travelling, you hand all the cubes over to San for safekeeping. You decide to split again– you and Yunho know exactly where to look if the location you are thinking of is relevant to the reason you are transported to this day. Wooyoung has other ideas– on this day, he went to the headquarters of The Forces despite his mother’s constant warning to never step foot inside.

“Let’s meet back here,” you say and squeeze Wooyoung’s hand. “Try to look for something else other than the cubes. Anything that pulls your attention or catches your eye.”

“Got it,” he says. He knows what this day means to you so he sends a glare in Yunho’s direction and he shifts uncomfortably, muttering something to San. “Don’t kill him. Go easy on him, eh?”

“I think this is your mum’s twisted idea to have us make up, so let’s see if that goes well,” you mutter. He smiles and kisses your cheek before telling San that he is ready.

“You know where to go,” you say, urging him to lead the way. You don’t match his steps this time.

In fact, this is the first time you feel tired ever since you entered the nth dimension and The Paradigm. It is as if you can actually feel the weight of that fateful night again. It also seems as if you are not the only one who feels that way– Yunho’s steps are slow and heavy, as if it physically pains him to walk down this memory lane that leads to the backyard of The Academy where you broke things off with him.

You both remain silent even when you reach the backyard. This was the last night you spent at The Academy so you wonder if the backyard still has the apple trees and half-dead rose bushes bordering the yard. He remains shut as he starts to look around aimlessly, picking a stick in the middle of searching and poking at everything with it.

“I’m going to check our dorm,” you say and before he can respond, you leave.

The dorm is situated at the west of the yard. The dorm arrangements were made according to the level or grade. You shared a dorm with Yunho and some other students since getting accepted to The Academy when you were about 10 and living together for so long felt like you were housemates. You had the same living space, shared a kitchen and whatnot. You and Yunho were the most constant residents of that dorm along with Hongjoong who joined much later but remained until the end.

You go to your room and smile to yourself when you look around. You were very particular about your room even back then– you had a photo wall in front of your desk with pictures of everyone who meant something to you. Most of these photos were of you and Yunho. Some included Hongjoong and the other students and friends you made along the way. A lot of them had Wooyoung and Mrs. Jung, and some of them included your parents.

You recall never being able to focus on studies because of this distraction right in front of your eyes whenever you sat down to study. It was a welcomed distraction though and more times than not, it motivated you to do better.

It is a struggle to peel your eyes away from the wall and search for anything out of place. After rummaging through some drawers, you finally find something that did not belong to you, something you have no memory of owning.

A radio device.

You try to tune it but it gives no signal. You suppose it might come to life if you power it with dichroic cubes so you decide to keep it.

“Found something?” Yunho steps inside the room and you show him the radio. He checks it thoroughly and finds that it has no batteries.

“I might have batteries in my room,” he thinks. “Should we check?”

“No harm in checking, yeah,” you agree. “I don’t think batteries will work here, though.”

“You never know,” he half-smiles.

When you enter his room, your heart twists with ache. You did not realise how much you missed him and the comfort of his room until you moved to your current lavish apartment and found that no amount of decoration or objects would match the feeling of being with the one who feels like home.

You look around and memorise every little detail and feeling of this room– from the crooked planks on the floor that creak exactly like you remember, from the neat organisation of the room to the absolute chaos of little toys and figurines in one corner. You struggle to keep the sting away from your eyes and watch Yunho rummage through his drawers to look for batteries.

He opens a drawer and shuts it immediately, rather uncharacteristically, before moving to the cupboards. He attempts to act normal but you catch the hesitation in his movements. Before he can stop you, you open the drawer, expecting to find something that should not be for your eyes, but–

“Yunho.”

It is his photo diary. The one he hid from everyone because he said that it was something very personal to him.

You used to tease him about it and went so far as to beg because you wanted to see it so bad. Were you a part of it? How many photos did he have of you? He had a film camera phase, he said, and the photos were of the places he loved. Nothing significant, he would try to cover up, but he still didn’t allow you to see it.

“Go ahead,” Yunho almost whispers. “Take a look, y/n.”

“Are you sure?” You pick the diary anyway. “Wouldn’t want to invade your privacy or whatever.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” he smiles almost sadly.

You give him a look before you open it. The first photo is of his parents and you smile at how he has captured them at their raw moments– his father pretending to read the newspaper but watching his wife peel potatoes with fondness dripping from his eyes.

“That’s cute,” you comment and turn the page. Next is a class photo, a copy that you also own. Mrs. Jung, a few other teachers and students. Wooyoung, the odd one out, who joined the photo that day.

You turn the page, and turn, and turn. Yes, there is a photo of a beach, of random streets, of food and of the night sky, of the sunset and sunrise, of the mountains and the sea, but there is something that makes you stop and look at him.

All these photos include you. A glimpse of you– either your shadow, your hand, or your back. Your face, your shoes, your hair.

It’s all you.

“Why would you do this?” You scoff, failing to hide the wetness from your voice as you toss the diary on the table. “Whyever would you do this, Yunho?”

“Because you are my muse,” he says. “I only ever enjoy life when I am with you. You know what you mean to me, y/n.”

“Then how could you fuck this up?” You ask, a tear trickling down your cheek. Yunho’s jaw clenches as he holds himself back, opting to hear you out. “How could you do this to me?”

“You don’t get it– you still don’t get why I became a Keeper,” he says, cursing under his breath as he runs his hands through his hair, exhaling. “I know what Mrs. Jung means to you– she is just as important of a person for me. You thought that you could find her on your own and for that, you had to cut ties with The Academy. Did you ever consider why I stayed back?”

You watch him with your mouth sealed shut, lest you say something bitter that breaks his heart again.

He decides to answer for you. “I stayed with the Academy and became a Keeper because it was the only way that I could protect you and prevent you from recklessly going inside the nth dimension. I became the guard to the door so you would have to cross me if you ever decided to risk it all, so that I could push you away from destroying yourself. I stayed–”

He paused, feeling out of breath not because of his confession but because all this time and he still couldn’t bear to see tears in your eyes. You hardly ever cry so watching your shoulders curve inwards was breaking him.

“I stayed, my dear,” he whispered, “so I could put myself in danger, learn more about the common points and the void points, learn more about The Paradigm. From the first day, my intentions were never pure. Once I learned about The Paradigm Key, I started planning to stab The Forces in the back, learn everything about Mrs. Jung and why she would go missing, and then find my way back home. To you.”

You take a few deep breaths and wipe your eyes. “Why did you never tell me?”

“You wouldn’t have let me do this on my own,” he shrugs. “I would rather have you ignorant and safe.”

“If me with an arrest warrant on my head is your definition of safe, then you need to do something about it.”

“Why do you think they never issued a legal warrant?” Yunho smirks. “I kept creating distractions so they would forget about you. But you… you have always been such an attention seeker. Always had to do something and remind The Forces of your rogue existence, didn’t you? Had me cleaning up your mess as usual. Some things never change, I suppose.”

“Careful, Yunho,” you warn. “It sounds like you care. Didn’t you want my doom or something?”

“I do care,” his gaze grew soft. “I thought that much was clear. I never wanted your doom, I just…”

“Go ahead,” you challenge, stepping closer. “Say it. Tell me how much you want to get rid of me. Tell me that you want me out of your life. Tell me that you hate me for leaving you like that.”

“I do hate you. I hate you so, so much,” Yunho says with a grimace as if the words hurt his soul. He steps closer and tosses the radio on his bed carelessly. “If I could go back in time, I think I would have it so I never met you. So I never fell into this tortuous, vicious cycle where I can’t decide whether I want to kill you because you broke my heart or hate you because that is the only way I can forget about you.”

“Did you ever decide then?” You ask, taking a step back when he draws uncomfortably close.

“I made the decision the day you left. I made the decision to keep loving you. My heart knew it, all this time,” he says and crowds your space, making you step back until your back touches his desk and you are trapped. “I guess I just had to keep myself occupied because otherwise, I would have gone mad.”

He brings his hands up to tuck your styled curls away from your face and you fail to suppress a shiver as the ghost of his fingertip caresses your cheek. You can hear his breath quickening and you clutch the edges of the desk, debating if you should push him back.

But his eyes are molten honey. They drip with longing like you have never seen before, and it takes your breath away. You fear that he can see the same in your eyes so you look away but he turns your chin with the pad of his thumb.

“Look at me.”

You do. You lock eyes with him.

You wait.

“Let me make it up to you,” he pleads. “Let me show you what you mean to me.”

“Yunho,” you whisper. “I… I’m scared.”

“Of what?” His brows furrow as he cradles your face and scans your eyes. “Tell me, love. What scares you?”

“You,” you admit, vulnerable for once. “I’m scared that your love will break all the walls I have spent years building in a second. I… I missed you so much, it broke me to leave you. I couldn’t sleep properly all this time because every night, I missed hearing the sound of your shuffling in the next room. I… I realised how much I loved you after I left you because it consumed me and swallowed me whole. It was so dark. I’m afraid of going back.”

Yunho presses his lips on your forehead and you let out a shaky breath. “You never have to be scared again. I will never, ever leave your side again. I never left you, you know that. I was always there, always waiting. Please, let me–”

You don’t let him finish his sentence. You push yourself up to meet his lips and he groans deeply before kissing you. He moves his lips unrushed as if he intends to make up for all the time you spent apart, unhurried for he does not have to worry about something as insignificant here as time.

He could kiss you forever, he realises as he lets his hands trace down your arms to hold you by your waist and bring you flush to him. The feeling of your arms wrapping around his neck makes him kiss you deeper and he gently picks you up to set you on the table, allowing you a moment to catch your breath.

You do. He doesn’t care about that. He attaches his lips to your skin– anywhere he can kiss, he does. He pecks and kisses along your neck and jaw, his trembling hands and shaky breath mingling with your little sighs. He carefully kisses the bruises if that is what will make them better. He kisses the tip of your nose before meeting your lips again and you deepen the kiss, loving the way his hand cups your neck.

You kiss for a long, long time. You both have it calculated in your own heads– it should take Wooyoung and San a while to return from the headquarters since it is located at a distance. You basically have all the time in the world to make up. You kiss, exchange smiles and confessions, kiss again and share fond looks. You tell him that you still despise his existence and he tells you that he thinks you are a headache.

Still, he can’t keep his lips off of you. His tongue explores your mouth lazily and his hands travel with lazy intention all over your body, but he doesn’t cross any boundaries. This is enough– he could never get tired of kissing you, he thinks. He bites and sucks at your lips until they are swollen and until his lips almost turn the same shade of red as your lipstick. He couldn’t care less. He holds you as if you are made of glass and then he holds you as if you would crumble if he let go.

You wrap your legs around his waist and tug him closer. He passes you a lazy smirk and you tangle your fingers in his hair, loving the softness of it. You kiss the freckles on his neck and litter kisses all over his face, making his ears turn red as he laughs. You peck his lips teasingly, again and again, testing his limit.

When he breaks and captures your lips in a kiss, it is as if you are kissing for the first time again. The desperation in his movements alter your brain chemistry forever and you know that there is absolutely no going away from this moment. You engage in a battle of lips and tongue, losing yourself in the moment–

Until the radio sparks to life and static fills the room. You lightly jump and he wraps his arm around you in a protective embrace as he looks towards his bed where the radio has turned on.

“I didn’t do anything,” he says.

“Wooyoung must be close,” you say, chuckling. “Let’s go.”

“Already?” Yunho asks, his gaze stuck on your lips.

“Yunho, it’s been more than half an hour since your assault on my lips began,” you tell him, pushing him away lightly. “I am tired.”

“Liar. You can’t feel tired in The Paradigm,” he matches your eye level to call you out.

You fold your arms. “Fine. I am not tired. If we weren’t on a mission, I would break you, Yunho,” you say and he smirks dangerously. “But we got more important things to do. Wipe that stupid grin off your face.”

“Break me, huh?” He asks as he follows you out of the room, the radio still ringing in your hands. “Would like to see you try, Seeker.”

You gulp. He doesn’t miss it. He simply seals the promise with a kiss on top of your head before letting you be.

When Wooyoung and San find you, they immediately know something is up.

“Don’t tell me you both had a quickie in there,” Wooyoung looks appalled.

“Shut the fuck up,” you warn while San and Yunho lose it, clutching on to each other as they laugh, exchanging smacks. “Eight cubes?”

“True to the Fibonacci,” he says. “What’s this radio?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “It’s been screaming like this ever since you came in radar, I suppose.”

“Is it the cubes or me?” Wooyoung wonders.

“Probably both,” you muse. “Now… what do we make of this? We don’t have a location this time, do we?”

Everyone shakes their heads no. You ask Wooyoung to take the radio and circle the area to see if the radio responds to Wooyoung himself or if it is pointing to a new location.

Sure enough, the radio dies when Wooyoung faces the direction of the headquarters and grows the loudest a little to the west of the headquarters. Taking that as a sign, you start to follow Wooyoung with immense curiosity, all of you rather quiet as you exit The Academy.

You are not moving in a familiar direction. San has a map on hand and he sometimes mentions the names of streets or famous spots– anything that might ring a bell, but nothing does. You are just going towards the river–

A scream gets stuck in your throat when Yunho pulls you to himself. The sound of a bang and a shatter follows and your ears start to ring, your eyes widening with fear as you cling on to him. You meet eyes for one second and you immediately know what’s wrong.

The Forces.

The three of you immediately provide cover to Wooyoung as you narrowly dodge bullets to take cover behind a building, and then you all are pulling out weapons.

“Not you,” you tell Wooyoung who is ready to put the radio back. “We’re speeding towards where the radio leads us. You instruct us and we provide you with cover. Got it?”

“It’s too dangerous,” Wooyoung shakes his head.

“There’s no knowing how many of them are here,” San agrees with you. “We need to get to the new location asap.”

Wooyoung is conflicted but he gives in. You and Yunho naturally take the same offensive-defensive position from your training and San guards your blind spots with a shield gun while ensuring Wooyoung remains safe.

Thus, you leave your cover and engage in your deadliest fight to date. You spot three men wearing the uniform of The Forces and you grit your teeth, firing bullets at them with precision. Yunho uses the paralysing gun and he manages to get one soldier before you do. As they fumble, you manage to shoot another soldier on his thigh.

And then you all are running as if the very ground is crumbling under your feet. It is too dangerous, too risky, but you can make it–

A bullet manages to penetrate through San’s shield and though it doesn’t hit with as much speed as before, it still wedges into Yunho’s arm and he lets out a guttural groan but hardly stops running. You feel the pain as if the bullet has hit you.

You don’t stop. With the radio growing louder and Yunho’s firm voice commanding you to keep going, you do exactly that until you reach the shore and then…

“Ain’t no way,” Wooyoung mutters.

You all stop abruptly when you almost accidentally step into the shimmery fold in the air, indication of a void point. Yunho steps back and makes sure you all do so with him but Wooyoung goes ahead to stand with him and make sure if the static grows loudest when the radio is pointed towards the void point.

It does.

“I’m not going in there,” Yunho mutters. “We have no idea what will happen if we step inside a void point here.”

“We have the cubes, we have Wooyoung,” you insist while you inspect his arm. The bullet is half-lodged inside his flesh. You look towards San for supplies and he has already taken out his first-aid kit. He mutters something about how it is better the gun stays inside for now to avoid blood loss and Yunho agrees. San has no other option but to secure it in place with a bandage.

“The Forces will be on us at any minute now,” Wooyoung says. “I would rather risk entering a void point than have them hurt us again.”

“We could get hurt if we go inside,” Yunho insists and dismisses the way you glare at him. “It is too risky– we could get separated or something worse could happen.”

“We each take a few dichroic cubes,” San says, looking back to make sure the soldiers haven’t arrived yet. He starts to dig in his bag and puts 4 cubes in everyone’s pockets. Yunho looks betrayed but after San is done, he takes Yunho’s hands.

“We either get killed or worse, arrested,” San says and they share a knowing look. “You know why getting arrested is worse than anything that could happen here.”

You and Wooyoung share a look. It seems like they have seen the prisons of The Forces. You have heard rumours, but you didn’t think it was this bad.

“We could outrun them. We could come up with another plan, we just need to lose them–”

“Stop right there!”

You all collectively mutter curses as the soldiers half-run towards you. You huff. “Yunho. Make. A. Decision. Whatever you decide, we stick together.”

“I don’t know,” he finally starts to feel the weight of it. San activates the shield again to buy time and Wooyoung moves closer to the void entrance in case you all have to make a run for it.

“Guys, do you hear that?” He almost whispers. “It’s like someone is calling my name from the other side–”

“You’re hallucinating,” Yunho tells him but his eyes widen when he sees a pair of arms appear from inside the void and take Wooyoung by surprise, grabbing him from the back by the waist and pulling him inside.

It happens in a split second. Your jaw falls open. Wooyoung gets pulled into the void by someone and out of sheer instinct, Yunho jumps towards Wooyoung. He manages to grab his wrist but starts to get pulled inside and then you grab San and leap after them, entering the void without a second thought.

This time, the feeling of being transported in space and time is entirely different. It shakes and rattles you and you feel as if your bones have turned into jelly. Your brain turns mush and when you finally land, you can’t breathe. You clutch at your chest and heave, thoroughly parched and see the rest writhing in pain as well.

Someone hands you a glass of water and you gulp it. They might as well have fed you poison but you don’t care– you just need to feel human again–

“Mom?”

Wooyoung has never sounded so small. You feel your heart sink and it takes every bit of effort to look up at the person who gave you the glass of water.

Mrs. Jung.

She looks exactly the same as the person who left you about four years ago, since a person doesn’t age in The Paradigm. However, she looks weary. Her eyes shine brightly at the sight of you all but her movements are slow and tired.

“I knew you would find me one day,” she finally says and laughs, tears welling in her eyes. “I’m so sorry for leaving like that. I… I didn’t know I would get trapped inside here.”

Wooyoung doesn’t care. He gets up and rushes to hold his mother in his arms and you feel tears trickle down your cheeks at the way she relaxes and lets her son hold him. The son she left behind– Wooyoung has changed so much since she last saw him.

Mrs. Jung draws away to hold her son’s face in her hands and memorise his features. She says something about how he has grown so much, how he looks as if he spent all this time in The Paradigm– has he not been eating well?

“I made sure that he ate well,” you get up and Mrs. Jung nods.

“No doubt about that,” she corrects herself. “It’s just…”

“I’m not a kid anymore. I’ve matured. Look,” Wooyoung straightens, flexing his body and all of you share a laugh. “I’ve been working out! I just missed you and your food, that’s why I look like this.”

“I’m sorry, my child. I didn’t know I wouldn’t be able to return if I stepped inside The Paradigm again.”

“What do you mean again?” Yunho asks. “Wooyoung is The Paradigm Key. How did you enter without the key? How are The Forces here without using the key?”

“Let’s discuss it over some tea. And let me fix up that wound of yours,” Mrs. Jung clicks her tongue at Yunho’s interrogation and turns to San. San gets up and bows properly.

“I remember you from the headquarters,” Mrs. Jung says. “Did you know that it is your father who helped me become a traveller?”

“...I was not aware,” San admits, looking at Yunho and you. “He doesn’t share his personal business with me.”

“But he has raised you into a good man,” Mrs. Jung says and goes ahead to hold his hands. “Thank you for taking care of my son all this time.”

Mrs. Jung seems to have made home in this dimension– in this void point. She explains that this is the year 2045 which is why everything looks different around here. She also explains that just because the year 2045 looks like this in this void point– bleak, gloomy and lifeless– does not mean that the year 2045 in the real world will look the same.

“Void points follow just one possible path out of many. If a certain few decisions about our world are made, the year 2045 will look exactly like this,” she says, pouring tea in porcelain crockery.

“Void points are very different from the rest of The Paradigm,” she continues. “They all have their own rules. Here, I can ingest as much liquid as I want and it doesn’t affect me in the slightest! I would have gone mad if I couldn’t do something as human as drink water here.”

“I don’t feel pain here,” Yunho says and your eyebrows perk up. “Is that also a property of this void point?”

Mrs. Jung nods. “Whenever a void point is calibrated to become a common point, we factor in pain so that travellers do not forget their purpose and get lost. Since this void point isn’t calibrated, you do not feel pain here. You could cut off your limb and still be functioning normally.”

You swirl the chamomile tea and inhale deeply. The scent calms you down a little but you have so many questions. You know that Mrs. Jung can tell that you are brimming with questions but she takes her time in breaking the truth to you all.

“Is this your residence here?” Wooyoung looks around the dining area. It seems to be the only space that she uses with the kitchen that is attached to it. The couch seems to be where she rests though she never sleeps here. The walls are full of scribbles and formulas. There are a few objects that seem to be tokens that she has collected over her stay here– a compass, a plushie, a toolbox and some other items.

“I call it my base,” Mrs. Jung says. “Having a home here would mess up my mind.”

“Did you ever make something out of those formulas?” San asks. “You seem to have been working out a way to travel in time. What are those equations?”

“I wrote everything I remembered as soon as I realised that I was stuck here,” she explains. “I needed to do that in case I forgot my purpose here and forgot that I have to go back. Those equations… that is what I remembered from the time I assisted in making dichroic cubes.”

“Did you… make these dichroic cubes then?” You finally ask. “Alone?”

“It was risky business, but the technology here is very advanced. I had little to no trouble creating 20 of these cubes before I ran out of the elements in store. I couldn’t risk travelling anywhere in case you all tried to find me here, so I stayed and decided to wait.”

“It could’ve taken us so much longer,” Yunho says in a sombre tone. “Would you have waited without knowing how long it would take for us to find you? What if someone else found you first? What if I didn’t make the connection and realised that Wooyoung is the key?”

“I made preparations for that reason,” Mrs. Jung doesn’t mind Yunho’s scolding tone one bit. She understands his frustrations. “I had you memorise the coordinates. I left clues for you both, knowing one of you would be able to make the connection about Wooyoung first, but I also had arrangements made so that you two would come here together, all of you.”

Mrs. Jung shares a knowing look with San and you can tell that he has made some connections. Was San unknowingly working for Mrs. Jung all this time, or was his friendship with Yunho and Wooyoung intentional?

When he passes you a genuine smile, you scowl at him. You can’t tell if you are being tricked right now, so you decide to change the topic. “Why did you enter The Paradigm in the first place if there was a chance that you would be trapped here? What if something happened to one of us and you were stuck here forever? And… what purpose do these dichroic cubes serve?”

Mrs. Jung takes a seat with her cup of tea and gives you a pointed look. Too many questions.

“Wooyoung is The Paradigm Key,” she confirms for the first time. “He was conceived inside The Paradigm. My husband, may his soul rest in peace, realised almost too late in my pregnancy that Wooyoung’s birth would be changing a lot of things. He was one of the main scientists who created the dichroic cubes.

“One night during the eighth month of my pregnancy, I went to the office with him. The dichroic cubes started reacting to my presence. It was a miracle that only the two of us were present at the time. That is when he started to study the implications of a child conceived inside The Paradigm. He tried his best to provide justifications to why the door to the nth dimension started circling Wonderland. He did his best to mislead The Forces– absolutely no one knew about the nature of my pregnancy so no one made the connection.”

“And then he passed away,” Wooyoung sighs. “And you took it upon yourself to protect me.”

“I had to,” Mrs. Jung smiles. “I had to keep my child safe. What we discovered was that since you were once a part of me, I had whatever energy or element necessary to act as the substitute key. Therefore, we made arrangements so that I could travel inside this dimension undetected. The only way I could protect you was if I held something over The Forces, so I made it my life’s mission to study why they kept the existence of the void points inside The Paradigm a big secret.”

“Because they show you one of the possibilities of the future,” you conclude, “when no void point outside The Paradigm but in the nth dimension ever takes you to the future.”

“Exactly,” Mrs. Jung claps her hands. “Even the void points that are let out of The Paradigm are calibrated enough so they never take a traveller to the future. They keep misleading everyone and forcing them to study the void points extensively when we already know everything that we need to know about them. They are the window to the future, and if you manage to trace your path back in time from a void point, you will be able to learn what decisions you need to make or what factors you need to control to ensure this exact future.”

“That’s… insane,” Yunho rubs his face. “The only reason they would do that is because they have seen a future that is exactly like they want our world to be.”

“That is my life’s mission. To find out what future they envision for our world and prevent it from becoming real because I know it is not a good one.”

San sucks in a breath. “If you are a substitute key, you got stuck here because?”

“Because I simply ran out whatever energy I had in me to pretend to be the real key,” Mrs. Jung shrugs. “That is the only reason that makes sense. His father suggested that it would happen one day and warned me to be careful. I should have listened to him. During some of my visits here, a few soldiers started to trail me. They remain lost like me with no means to get out.

“As for the dichroic cubes,” she looks at you. “I scattered them in a certain sequence so only you would be able to understand what they mean– that they were from me. Now that you have brought them back, I can use them to calibrate this dimension so we can transport ourselves out of this void point into The Paradigm and eventually out of The Paradigm and back home.”

“So now what?” Wooyoung asks. “Are we going back now? Also… I think we have arrest warrants issued out– at least these two.”

Yunho and you share guilty looks. Mrs. Jung chuckles lightly.

“Well… we have all the time in the world now. Are you up for an adventure?”

“An adventure?” San echoes.

Mrs. Jung folds her arms. Even though she seems tired, her energy seems to have replenished in just a few minutes of being with you all.

“I have had a lot of time to reflect here. I think that we should never have hidden from The Forces. Now that I have all the answers that I need, I think it is time that we expose The Forces and their secrets, tell the world about their lies and create a new team of travellers that study The Paradigm properly.”

“You would need The Paradigm Key for that,” Yunho cautiously reminds her. “Will you let the world know about who Wooyoung is?”

“Absolutely not,” she almost smirks. “I have everything in place to create another key– an object. I think that in this dimension, the year 2045 here… with the technology and everything that I saw at the headquarters here, there are ample studies here on how to create multiple keys. I believe that this future is a bleak one where I am not alive and The Forces capture Wooyoung and use him to make more keys from him.”

“Damn,” Wooyoung shivers. “That’s… fucked up.”

“Language,” Mrs. Jung says in her typical motherly tone and the rest of you snicker while Wooyoung pouts and asks if language is so important right now. “Once we make a few substitute keys, we can go back and threaten to expose The Forces. If they do not comply with our conditions, they will get exposed even if they arrest us.”

“Sounds difficult,” Yunho comments. “The Forces aren’t that easy to bend. Can we really accomplish this?”

“We are not the villains in this story, Yunho,” Mrs. Jung says and Yunho looks at you. “None of us is a villain for trying to learn the truth about the nth dimension and its core. The real villains are those in power who prevent us from educating ourselves, threaten our lives and mistreat us just so they can find a way to bend the future to their will.

“I came here to protect my son,” Mrs. Jung says as she looks at Wooyoung. He smiles warmly. “And I will continue to do so until I can sleep knowing that he is safe. If that makes me a villain to The Forces, then I will gladly be one.”

“You are not a villain, though,” San says. “You are the most heroic person I have met.”

Mrs. Jung smiles. “We are all heroes. Let’s never forget that. Now…” Mrs. Jung claps and stands up. “No time to waste. Shall we begin this battle? Remember, it only ends the day we are able to walk in the streets without shame, without anyone looking at us with scrutiny. Until justice prevails.”

“I don’t know,” you fold your arms. “I’m more used to being the villain. This hero thing doesn’t suit me very much. Yunho, though...”

“Oh, come on now!” Wooyoung says. “Stop being so melodramatic! Come on, mum, show us your lab. I’m curious to see what it looks like and I must tell you about all the pain these fuckers gave me–”

“Jung Wooyoung, language! I am your mother!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Wooyoung grabs San by the wrist and gets him to tag along. San joins the mother-son duo with a laugh and motions for you two to follow.

Yunho gets up and extends his hand. You take it with a shy pout.

“You may be everyone’s villain,” Yunho starts. “But to me, you have always been my hero–”

“Shut your trap before I show you why no one ever called me a hero, Jeong Yunho.”

Yunho snickers. He teases you by singing verses about heroes and doesn’t let you get away despite your struggles. Once you break free, you clutch on to Mrs. Jung who kisses the top of your head, laughing when Yunho huddles between the four of you.

Your bickering and laughter echoes in this bleak future. Led by the true hero of your lives, you walk, you work and you cry now to make sure that the future you make for the people back home is a beautiful one.

taglist pt 1:

@lorensonebraincell @waywardstaytiny @lluvia1415 @woohwababes @fruithoughts @fancypeacepersona @propinquitypsithurism @kyomiingi @ateezswonderland @janetsarttrove @thenopekid @justconniez @daniela-f-uwu @hwasbestlover @missbangtangirl @beabatiny @slowitdownmakeitb0uncy @alliethequeen @lavishloving @haowonbins @franbowesax @klllerwaifu @selfishw4ltz @paramedicnerd004 @atzlordz @meowmeeps @intowxnderland @faeriehwa @staytiny-yaps @ishz @dumplingsyum @bunnychui @kandy108 @softsanglix @yongility @sweetinsaniiity @bihwabi @pshwifey @emotionallyanaemic @affy1106 @parkthothwa8 @my-loves-my-life @sunnysidesins @jyoon-ahgatiny @lover-ofallthingspretty @dea-nimus @cksanpurpleluv @atzloverr @bamdoe

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emotionallyanaemic · 15 days ago

Text

The Leaders | Chapter XVI

"we are the leaders of the underworld that no one escapes from."

masterlist

ot8!ateez x f!reader, mafia au

chapter warnings: drinking, smoking, illegal businesses, mentions of war/military, drugs, gangs and corruption, blood and executions yikes, anxiety, arson, strangling, yunho uses his piano wire guys! major character injury, etc.

chapter wc: 11.4k

chapter synopsis: the election campaign at edenary opera hall takes a dark turn when an assemblyman is shot to death. you rush to safety, sick with worry about seonghwa who was in attendance and has been shot as well. when secretary park arrives after sorting the mess, he admits the truth about your past and his struggles to bring president lee down. you accept his truth and urge him to consider you as an ally. elsewhere, the crescents set the park pharmaceutical warehouse on fire to send a message.

prev chapter recap: now in the park mansion with winter guarding assemblyman wi’s family, sunghoon reveals that you have more allies than you can think of. you officially meet president lee who tells you to prepare for a meeting with president kwon of halaland on october 24th. president lee reveals that he wants you to take secretary park’s position once he wins the elections again. in a campaign gathering, you meet assemblyman kim who questions your position as both a crescent and secretary park’s family. you meet chan of wolfgang and send a message to the crescents through him– the date of the meeting with president kwon. in the meeting with president kwon, you take a leap of faith in secretary im and subtly alert the president of halaland of foul play as president lee negotiates about the strictland matter. the crescents learn about your ring and go to wendy and she tells them everything– from the secret about your identity to why secretary park raised you so well. she also informs them about the truth behind the sirens rebel party and how it is connected to strictland. wendy then reaches out to prosecutor bae of the eden crime court on the behalf of president son. all the allies gather and craft a plan to expose president lee. at another gathering, sunmi passes you the receipt of your ring and you finally learn the truth though it has you utterly confused. meanwhile, the crescent mole is seen taking instructions about an assassination plan.

The air at the opera house felt thick with schemes and tension tonight.

With just about three months left until the presidential elections, the first official gathering of the elites was taking place at the Eden Opera House. The presidential candidates were going to present their vision to win their support and secure sponsorships which would help them incredibly in promoting their campaign and garnering the support of the public.

The three presidential candidates were currently backstage, crowded by their teams as they went over their speeches, revising their key points and ensuring everything was in place. Assemblyman General Wi was seated at one corner with his secretaries barking orders at the rest of the team. Assemblyman Kim was just the same at the next corner.

You were glancing between the two. Assemblyman Wi concealed his expressions as he made eye contact with you. Something was going to happen tonight, if the date marked on the back of the receipt that Sunmi gave you was an indication. If that was a message from the Crescents, chances were that Assemblyman Wi was also involved. You could not see how else the Crescents were going to accomplish anything without him, considering their absence.

You also had no idea what Assemblyman Wi aimed to accomplish other than delivering his presidential candidate address. He seemed to want to approach you and talk to you but you were stuck pretending to care about President Lee for now.

You refused to look the man directly in the eye. Ever since you made the connection a few nights ago, you were trying your best to not appear on edge, to remain calm and continue pretending to be Luna of the Crescents who wanted to be anywhere but here. Who were you, though? The name you gave yourself seemed to be the only truth about your identity anymore, and you were going to latch on to it as if it were your anchor.

You are a Crescent. Your past or your lineage does not matter. All that matters is that you are one of us now.

Had Hongjoong said those words with intention, knowing you were going to find out the truth about your family soon? Was the truth about your identity the reason he was trying so hard to protect you, refusing to give you a hint unless he was sure so he wouldn’t add to your worries? Was this the reason the RV spies had protected you– though that part still did not make sense. Were they protecting you because you were Han Hyojoo’s daughter, or because you were President Lee’s daughter?

The receipt only confirmed that the ring belonged to Han Hyojoo, and she had to be your mother like Secretary Park had said. So who was your father?

“y/n, can you get me the reports you marked earlier?”

President Lee’s voice made your blood curl. He refused to call you Luna. You refused to believe that he was your father. You’d rather your mother and father both be infidels. Secretary Park suddenly seemed like a saint despite the sin that he might have committed.

“Yes sir,” you responded mechanically, sorting through the bundle of reports you had printed out earlier for him– statistics regarding his term and other logistics. The man muttered a thanks and continued to go through his script. Secretary Park asked you and Secretary Im to go to your seats and you followed the young woman out, finding your spot at the very front, the row meant for President Lee’s team.

Once seated, you took a look around, hoping to find a familiar face or two. Rows of plush red velvet seats were beginning to fill and you recognised a few people from the numerous gatherings in Edenary you had attended by now. You could hardly make out the faces past a few rows due to the recessed lighting. On your wristwatch, you checked the time– there was still a good half an hour before the opera house would be closed and the event would begin.

Secretary Im gestured towards the gap between the red curtains, remarking on the unusual placement of the podium and you nodded vaguely, squinting your eyes when a technician shifted a torch, sending a sharp glint of light off the stage’s gold filigree.

You turned your attention away from the stage towards your left where the door to the lobby was wide open. There were people going in and out of the hall, mostly guests arriving and trying to find their seats. You told Secretary Im that you were going to take a breather and made your way outside. It was going to be a long event and you wished to get some fresh air before the event began.

The lobby was filled with little groups of people chatting amongst themselves, placing bets on who would be stealing the spotlight tonight. Of course, most of these people were supporting President Lee. You were wondering why everyone was going through the pain of the elections if the result was already decided. Unless something big happened, a grand exposé, the President would have no trouble winning the elections. Given his connections though, you reckoned it would be hard to lose even if he suffered a blow. Assemblyman Wi was a strong contender but the cards had been dealt behind the scenes and his victory was no longer an idea he could entertain.

You stood fixing the strands of your hair that was tied back into a low twist in front of one of the various mirrors that lined the lobby. Tugging the corners of your black sequined coat, you took a deep breath, ready to go back inside when you spotted a familiar figure making their way backstage from the corner of your eye.

You thought you were mistaking the man for someone else, but it had to be Seonghwa’s guard Yuta with his lengthy hair and calculative strides, though most of his face was concealed behind a mask. You felt a pleasant jolt of recognition at the sight of him and started to follow him, deciding not to call his name out. He paused on his own when he realised that he had a shadow and when he turned, his eyes widened in surprise.

“It really is you,” you smiled and he stood staring for a moment before bowing in greeting. “How have you been?”

“Good,” he breathed, “you’re here too.”

“I have to tag along with Secretary Park,” you tried to keep the complaint out of your tone. “Is Seonghwa here?”

“Ah, yes, they will arrive shortly I believe,” Yuta said, checking his wristwatch. “Seonghwa and Hongjoong. I’m just here early doing my thing.”

“Right, I’ll look for them in the crowd then, though I don’t think I’ll be able to do anything else,” you sighed but there was a newfound energy bubbling inside you.

Your boys were going to be here tonight. Everything would be okay.

“I have matters that need attending,” he said with an apologetic look.

“Of course, I won’t keep you. It’s really good to see a familiar face though, Yuta,” you said, taking a step back. It looked like he wished to say something but he just left with a ‘be careful’. You appreciated his warning– the boys were probably planning to pull something tonight. Maybe it would even get dangerous.

Once inside, you scanned the crowd again. It didn’t look like Seonghwa and Hongjoong were here yet so you went back to your seat. With only a few minutes left, all you had to do was wait. The guards were starting to station themselves on all corners and at the upper level where some of the guests would be seated as well. Secretary Park appeared from the backstage, taking a seat on your other side, taking deep breaths as he settled down. Soon after, the host of the evening appeared as the curtains drew, the crowd resorting to hushed whispers.

“Your Crescent boys are here tonight,” Secretary Park said and you resisted the urge to check and confirm. “Did you know?”

“Not really,” you said. “I suppose they can attend? Even if they are not a group of your elites?”

“Anyone with money can,” Secretary Park said with a shrug, narrowing his eyes at someone in the audience. You followed his gaze to find a woman with short hair. She did not look familiar.

“Someone you know?”

“Prosecutor Bae Doona,” Secretary Park whispered and then settled back in his seat properly. “She used to be President Son’s legal advisor. Wonder what she’s doing here tonight.”

“President Son, huh?” You muttered. Could it be a coincidence that she was here tonight?

and you turned your attention towards the host, though your mind remained occupied with thoughts of your partners.

Assemblyman Kim was the first candidate called on stage to present his speech. While the crowd clapped, you finally turned in your seat and looked around, spotting not two but four familiar faces– Mark and Taeyong were seated next to their bosses. They were talking among themselves and while they didn’t find you watching, your heart was instantly at ease and you settled back, focusing on the Assemblyman’s speech.

“I have always vouched for honesty and integrity,” Assemblyman Kim said, sure and proud. “I aim to continue doing so despite being surrounded by scheming politicians who do not care about the welfare of this nation but only their personal gains. I am for the stability and the growth of this nation, and I do my best never to be a hindrance to improvement.”

A brave take, but that was what he was always like. The voice of the oppressed, yet still repressed by his fellow politicians. The crowd clapped as if they agreed, though everyone in the hall tonight knew that Assemblyman Kim stood no chance against the other candidates. That was how it was always like. The truth never won.

You took a glance back to where the Crescents were seated, trying to find Yuta but he was not present, nor was there a seat reserved for him. You wondered if the Crescents had brought extra guards along today for a reason. Usually, they only travelled with one guard. Just what were they planning to pull tonight?

After Assemblyman Kim’s speech concluded, it was Assemblyman General Wi’s turn. He got on stage with a military salute and in his usual manner, he proceeded to appeal to the people with military background. While that had always been his approach, if he wasn’t tied to President Lee now, he would have taken a different one in order to appeal to the masses.

The military connection that he so often pulled was only going to reflect badly now. President Lee had truly cornered him.

“Pity about that man,” Secretary Park commented. “I think he really had a chance before Jinwook decided to interfere. He doesn’t look too happy to be on the stage tonight.”

You had to agree. “Did President Lee really win his first elections solely because of pity votes, or were there some external forces at that time too?”

“What do you think?” He shifted his attention to you, measuring your response.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he won because of his connections at that time too,” you decided. “Surely, pity votes would not have been enough.”

“He had to make it look like the pity votes were enough,” Secretary Park answered, pleased with your deduction. “Otherwise people would have started to question the legitimacy of his win.”

You nodded in understanding. “Shouldn’t you be on stage with President Lee? He’s going to be up any minute now.”

“The media team has it covered,” Secretary Park sank down in his seat with a tired groan. “I can’t be bothered anymore.”

You couldn’t restrain the snort that escaped from your mouth at the unfiltered response Secretary Park gave you. Perhaps for the first time in your life, the two of you shared a relaxed chuckle, and he asked what was so funny.

“Nothing. I just wish you were like this before.”

“I’ve always been like this,” he grunted, though pleased. “Just couldn’t afford to slip back then.”

“Oh, how relieved you must be to finally have something like a partner-in-crime. Though we’re hardly that,” You muttered, alluding to how Secretary Park was indirectly planning his boss’ downfall and he shot you a glare, straightening when the said boss walked on stage, the hall erupting in loud applause and cheers.

President Lee soaked in every bit of that attention, his trademark smile plastered on his face. To you, it no longer looked like a smile but a tool of deception carrying a hint of concealed threat. He scanned the crowd slowly, absorbing their energy before he cleared his throat and tested the mic.

“Well… I never imagined I would be at the podium like this, running for a second presidency, but here we are. Eden has always loved me, and I’m beyond grateful for your support.”

You rolled your eyes, not caring if he saw you. The crowd cheered and clapped for the leader of their nation, unaware of the two-faced nature of the man. The audience and the viewers were probably deluded into thinking that they had the power to select their leader, unaware that the smile President Lee wore was one of a man who had already won.

President Lee started by summarising his presidential term, highlighting the good and the bad both. It was a clever speech designed to make the people think that they were weighing his deeds and were going to make the decision of whether the good outweighed the bad.

“I hope that my five years as a president in Eden were proof that I am a loyal man. Loyal to this land that raised me. Loyal to the people who supported me. And… loyal to the ones that we lost.”

You were getting tired of his speech now, but you clapped like the rest, aware that you were under observation by the reporters. President Lee concluded his speech on a sentimental note.

“To conclude this evening, I would like my fellow assemblymen to join me on the podium. I want to relay a message to the people of Eden– we are one. We stand united against anyone or anything that threatens our beloved homeland. No matter who wins this election, the victory of the people of Eden lies in believing that we are one. A single unit serving the same purpose– to achieve peace and stability.”

“That was not in the script,” you looked towards Secretary Park who seemed somewhat surprised.

“It wasn’t, but I had a feeling he would pull a stunt like this in the end.”

You found Assemblyman Kim joining the president hesitantly on the stage and he stood next to him. President Lee urged Assemblyman Wi to join them– the General was making his way from the audience so it was taking him a few seconds longer.

Assemblyman Wi stepped on the stage and looked towards the audience with an honest smile, meeting your eyes momentarily as well. He went to join President Lee who beckoned him to come closer–

A sharp noise accompanied by a little gust of wind echoed in your ears, followed by the sound of a wounded animal. You shut your ears instinctively but quickly covered your mouth in horror as Assemblyman Wi dropped to his knees in front of President Lee, blood pooling on his upper back.

For a moment, there was an uneasy, eerie silence in the hall. The thud of Assemblyman’s Wi body dropping to the floor seemed to break the silence and the guards started moving, navigating through the screams and trying to make order out of the chaos that followed as they guided people to safety.

You didn’t realise that you remained in your seat unmoving with eyes wide open until Secretary Park covered your body with his protectively as another gunshot sounded. This time, you let the panic take control of you and you cried out in fear, letting the man guide you and Secretary Im to the emergency exit and you only had a second to take a look back– where were your boys?

You caught a glimpse of Hongjoong leaning down with Mark and Taeyong ready with their guns out. You couldn’t catch Seonghwa and you tried to struggle against Secretary Park’s grip but he adamantly pushed you towards the exit and when he spotted his guards, he started barking orders.

“Go home,” Secretary Park gave you a little shake, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple, eyes wide with terror. “Go to my house, both of you, and do not leave until I come back.”

“It’s not safe,” you started but Secretary Im, who seemed to be in better control of her wits than you, grabbed your hand and started pulling you away from Secretary Park. “What about you?”

“I’ve got to take care of things here,” Secretary Park gave you a knowing look. Of course. He was President Lee’s secretary and he had to make sure that the president of this nation was safe, first and foremost. To Secretary Im, he said, “Go to my office and stay alert. I’ll be calling.”

“Yes sir,” she nodded and you resisted when she pulled again.

“I couldn’t see Seonghwa, I have to– I have to make sure he’s alright,” you pleaded but Secretary Park shook his head.

“Not now. Your safety is my priority, first and foremost,” Secretary Park locked eyes with you. “Go and assist Secretary Im. I’ll let you know if your Crescent boys made out okay.”

The ride back to the Park mansion is nothing short of stressful. You bit the skin around your thumbs throughout the entirety of it to keep yourself from doing anything but think. What went wrong?

Did anything go wrong, or was this the Crescents’ big plan? To kill Assemblyman Wi?

There was no way that Assemblyman Wi was alive after receiving that gunshot to the middle of his chest. Where had the gunshot come from? There were tens and hundreds of guards stationed inside and around the opera hall tonight. Who made it past them?

Just who was involved in this assassination, and what was the reason behind it? Why Assemblyman General Wi, of all the people?

You thought about his family in Sector 2. If the RV spies were really as quick as you had heard, there was a chance that Winter must have already heard about Assemblyman Wi’s death. A small part of you still hoped that a miracle would happen and he would somehow make it out alive, but it was hoping for too much. You could only pray that his family would remain strong, but a wife just lost her husband. A daughter just lost her father. Resilience would be a gift in the face of such calamity.

As soon as you reached home, you gathered your wits and stepped outside, taking a deep breath. Your legs felt weak but you mustered some strength and managed to take one step after another.

Everything was starting to feel numb.

Secretary Im, who was walking a few steps ahead of you, paused in her tracks abruptly and took a few deep breaths. Perhaps, it was finally hitting her. She looked up and raised her hand slightly, catching a snowflake on her palm.

“The first snow,” she announced.

The first snow in Edenary. For the man who served at the mountains, known to brave the army during the harshest of winters, protecting his people from the cold as best as he could while also making a practical example of himself that snow was not a hindrance.

The first snow to commemorate the end to the life of a man who was more than just the military man and assemblyman. He was a beloved husband and a protective father. A mentor to some and a deeply revered rival to others.

Sunghoon was awaiting your presence in the hallway, perhaps having heard of what happened at the opera hall. His expressions remained stoic and he nodded at Secretary Im in a sense of camaraderie. Assemblyman Wi was an old acquaintance. His loss was a blow even though he was of a rival party.

You crossed him and made your way to the office, taking the residential line to dial the Crescent Office in Edenary, hoping Jaehyun would pick up. You stood listening to the bell as Secretary Im came inside with a bottle of Black Shadow and two glasses. She wasn’t wrong in believing that you couldn’t make it through the night without some alcohol in your system. Maybe she needed it more.

Whatever the reason, you nodded in thanks and took the glass, watching her settle down on Secretary Park’s seat and take the office line to ring god knows where. You were not listening, and you didn’t care to. The sound of the unanswered bell echoed in your skull, each beat sounding like a warning call.

You rang again, willing yourself to remain calm and patient, but it was not working. Jaehyun was not picking up. You supposed that he was busy– it would only be fair to assume so. There was probably no one at the Crescent Office to pick your call.

Sector 1 it was, then. You dialled the number that you had memorised long ago. You also kept these numbers in your wallet but you were relying on your memory for now. Secretary Im noticed your empty glass and filled it again while talking to someone about damage control. You gulped the wine down, hoping its familiar taste would soothe your nerves but you remained biting on your nails, your leg fidgeting at a constant pace. You remained waiting with no answer.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath and dialled again. It was only a few minutes past 8– someone should be in the office. Where was Jihoon? Where was Eunha?

You took out your wallet and made calls to the bar and the warehouse. Silence was your only answer. You shook your head and sank down on the seat, watching Secretary Im calmly direct the presidential office through the phone. Why could you not be more like her? How could she be so collected at a time like this? Your whole world was falling apart– you needed to know if Seonghwa and Hongjoong made it out alright.

Secretary Im put the receiver down and locked eyes with you, passing you a knowing look. You shrugged, averting your eyes. She did not need to know how much this was affecting you.

Even though it was crystal clear.

“Secretary Park and President Lee have safely made it to the Eden Dome,” she informed and you nodded. You had to admit, the news of Secretary Park being out of danger was somewhat relieving. “Assemblyman Kim is with them. Eden Dome is under lockdown. It seems like the target was President Lee but… Assemblyman Wi… is dead. He was unfortunately at the wrong place, at the wrong time.”

“You don’t actually believe that, do you?”

Secretary Im remained silent, but the way she shifted uncomfortably was answer enough. You decided not to argue with her. You were still not sure if she really was on your side.

Was there anyone at your side?

Who knew that tonight, Assemblyman Wi was going to take his last breaths? The receipt in your pocket felt heavy. Marked with tonight’s date, the Crescents had sent you a message.

Were they aware of this? Was this their plan– to kill Assemblyman Wi?

They wouldn’t, you told yourself. There was absolutely no way in hell that they planned to kill him. Hongjoong deeply respected Assemblyman Wi as his military superior. He could be a ruthless man but he would never cold-heartedly plan an assassination of this level.

Sunmi was another person who knew of this date. She had no reason to get rid of Assemblyman Wi– her family only mingled with politicians with the intentions of marketing their brand, if they weren’t already customers. It could not be her.

That left President Lee, and you did not want to think about whether Secretary Park was involved in this. You believed that he wasn’t considering the way that he reacted, but… you couldn’t trust anyone.

“Were you aware that Prosecutor Bae Doona from the Eden Crime Court was going to be attending the event tonight?”

You shifted in your seat, trying to recall if you had heard about that certain prosecutor recently.

“She was supposed to take the stage after President Lee’s speech,” Secretary Im revealed. “Apparently, nobody knew about this.”

“Why does she matter?” You asked. “What did she intend to do?”

“You tell me,” Secretary Im smiled knowingly. “She was spotted with Assemblyman Wi and Kim Hongjoong a few days ago.”

“How would I know?” You placed your glass on the table with an unintended force, sounding more frustrated with each passing minute. “I’ve been no-contact ever since I came here.”

“Prosecutor Bae is known for her blatant dislike of President Lee,” Secretary Im poured more wine for you. You straightened, listening intently. Secretary Im watched you carefully. “Everyone always thought that it was odd of her to dislike President Lee since, well… you know. Everyone loves him. She was not invited to tonight’s event. No one from Eden Crime Court participates in these things because they are supposed to be unbiased. You know how they maintain check and balance and watch the politicians vigilantly, even though half the judges and prosecutors are loyal to whoever offers them money.”

“Prosecutor Bae was spotted with Assemblyman Wi and Hongjoong,” you repeated. “Where did you hear that?”

“I’ve got my sources, and this is top secret. I don’t think anyone knows, unless…”

“Unless?” You probed. Secretary Im gave nothing.

“Secretary Park will do the explaining. He will be home soon. I’m going to prepare to leave for the office. It’s going to be a long, long night.”

You folded your arms, defeated. All you could do was wait now.

Secretary Im went to freshen up and as soon as she came back, you heard some shuffling outside. Your head was pounding with worry and frustration now and you could no longer function solely on the stress fueling you. You were positive that you were going to crash soon.

However, it was Secretary Park walking into the room when the tension in your shoulders started to release. He stood in the middle of the room, staring at you and you remained in your seat, unmoving and staring back. A few moments of silence passed, but the unspoken words were the loudest the both of you had ever heard. Never had you both seen eye to eye on something like this.

I’m glad that you are not hurt. I’m glad that you are alive.

Secretary Park cleared his throat, somewhat awkward in his gait as he walked towards his seat. Secretary Im had a pleased smile plastered on her face and she reported to him in low murmur. He nodded and Secretary Im left with a meaningful smile shot in your direction. You watched her leave before turning your attention back to the man who was now seated in front of you.

“What happened tonight?” You finally asked. “You… are not involved, are you?”

Secretary Park shook his head. “Assemblyman Wi is dead. I just got back from the office. His secretaries were lost, understandably. Secretary Im will guide them on how to proceed– they need to contact his family before they air the news.”

You let out a shaky breath, once again gripped by guilt. “Who shot him?”

“We don’t know that yet,” Secretary Park said. “The assailant could not be caught. It has to be an insider job… did you know anything about tonight’s event?”

“You think I would have allowed any of this to happen? I’m not involved,” you sighed, clenching your fists. “I knew something was supposed to happen tonight. It couldn’t be this, though. It’s bullshit, right? How they’re saying it was President Lee who was meant to be killed tonight.”

“It sure looks like it,” Secretary Park admitted and you were about to challenge him but he continued. “I know better. What happened tonight… this is what happens when you try to take matters into your own hands.”

“What do you mean?”

“Prosecutor Bae… I think she was going to make some points against Jinwook tonight. There is no other explanation about her presence at the hall. She was also seen meeting up with Assemblyman Wi and Kim Hongjoong a few days ago. Secretary Im informed me, and we kept this from President Lee but of course he has his own sources. He must have figured it out. He’s always one step ahead and I’m afraid that he’s caught on to me as well.”

You clenched your jaw. Remaining in the dark about whatever the Crescents planned in your absence was not helping you. “You’re saying Hongjoong planned this.”

“I’m saying that if he planned this, he’s got to up his game,” Secretary Park scoffed. “Park Seonghwa got shot tonight.”

Your vision blackened for a moment and a weak sound of question erupted from your mouth.

“It wasn’t a fatal shot– stroke of luck, I don’t know, but he’s alive and being treated right now,” Secretary Park clicked his tongue. “If Hongjoong planned this, he’s forgetting that it takes a monster to destroy a monster.”

You slumped back in relief, catching your breath. No wonder the Crescents weren’t picking up the phone. You made a quick prayer hoping that Seonghwa would be alright.

Secretary Park continued. “I am willing to become a monster if that means I can take that monster of a man down. I’m taking care of this, but you kids keep meddling. You don’t know anything about Jinwook. I’ve known him for almost all my life.”

“How do you expect me or anyone to know what you’re planning if you keep acting like the same monster?” You pleaded. “If you hadn’t looked so scared when Assemblyman Wi got shot, I would have assumed that it was you who planned this. Do you understand how confused I am? I’m here, absolutely no contact with the Crescents. How would they know that you… are on our side? You are the enemy to them.”

Secretary Park didn’t look pleased to hear that, but he knew that it was the truth. If he was to bring President Lee down, he could trust nobody. Not you. Not the Crescents. He was weary with the weight of what he was planning to do, and for the first time you noted the way his skin sagged with age, the dark shadows under his eyes, the droop of his mouth.

“I won’t know anything until you tell me,” you said softly, willing to trust the man for the last time. “So tell me. I need answers,” you dug out the receipt Sunmi gave you and slid it to him. He gave you a questioning look before perching his reading glasses on and inspecting the receipt.

He wasn’t surprised. He just sighed in admission. “Han Hyojoo is your mother.”

“Are you my father?” You asked cautiously, but there was a bitter taste in your mouth. The answer…

“Would it change anything?” Secretary Park asked, his lips curling in a smile that, for the first time, contained unfiltered sadness. “Does knowing that I am not your father help you at all?”

So there it was. The answer that you refused to face.

Lee Jinwook is your father.

You scoffed at his answer, your body shaking with laughter that you could no longer contain. It was ridiculous– it was beyond ridiculous. You laughed loudly in disbelief, tears pooling in your eyes. There was no way.

There was no way that monster of a man was your father.

You wiped your eyes and caught Secretary Park shaking his head. He understood why you reacted that way. He offered you wine but you shook your head.

“Why did you raise me like a father?”

Secretary Park raised his brows. “I don’t think I raised you like a father. I was more of a… provider.”

“That’s not true, and we both know it,” you countered, taking a deep breath. “You need to explain why you told the whole world that I am your daughter– or niece, to cover that up. Mrs. Park– your own wife doesn’t know that I’m not your daughter, does she? You made her think that you’re an infidel. You ruined your own family just to raise me. Why? I know how much you love your wife, I see it in your eyes, but she’s grown to hate you because of me. Do you know how much it hurt to see that, even when I thought I was your daughter? And now– now that I know that I am not your daughter… how do you expect me to live with that? You ruined all your relationships, even the one with your son. Why?”

Secretary Park looked down, laughing at his own demise. You waited for him to respond but he had never looked so defeated.

“I lost the love of my life because I made a deal with the devil,” Secretary Park said and looked up at you, eyes empty. “I had no choice but to raise you, but I made that choice. You are the child that Jinwook almost killed because he’s a selfish, greedy man. I saved you but it cost me immensely. Before I knew it, I was trapped and I had no way out. You… were my doom but you look like my only salvation right now, so I donned the cloak of the devil once again. Do you understand?”

Your heart ached at his confession and your head hurt with confusion– there were still so many answers that you needed. “Please tell me everything.”

Secretary Park took a deep breath. “You are y/n. That’s your real name, we kept it. You were born to Hyojoo and Jinwook. Hyojoo was a blooming politician and everyone knew that she was going to become the president one day. Jinwook was a good husband and he supported his wife in every field. He wanted her to become the president. But pregnancy… it changes a woman and her brain chemistry. It was a tough pregnancy and Hyojoo spent most of her time in the hospital.

“The birth… it almost killed you both,” Secretary Park said after a pause. “Hyojoo was critical but you, a little baby, was not breathing. They revived you and kept you in the NICU. Hyojoo could not hold you much, but she vowed that once the two of you got better, she would focus on raising you. She was willing to step down from her duties and that… that flipped a switch in Jinwook.”

Secretary Park started to pour the almost empty bottle for the both of you as he let that information sink in. You stared at the bloody red liquid, biting your thumb between your nails as you processed the information. Secretary Park handed you the glass and gulped the liquid in his own glass down.

“I was close to Jinwook ever since his marriage– Hyojoo and I were once good acquaintances, but I was always a little… sly,” Secretary Park admitted with a shrug. “Jinwook caught that. He roped me in on his plans– he was aiming to become an elite one day. Me, I was going to flourish my father’s business, I had a ready-made path. But Jinwook… he was an ambitious man. He got involved with the wrong people and learned about the Strictland Programme. He let me in, and I was also an ambitious man so I decided to see where it goes.”

“Major Sung…” you recalled. “Was that the person President Lee got involved with? Was that the man I saw here in this very office after which you kicked me out and sent me to Wonderland?”

Secretary Park gave you a pointed look. “Yes, that is the man. Jinwook had a whole plan– his wife was going to become the president in a few years. Until then, he would secure his place in the Strictland project. He was slowly going to let Hyojoo into his plans and use her power and influence to enable the Strictland Nuclear Programme. Hyojoo was never going to let that happen, so he had backup plans too. It was sinister and dangerous how the man thinks, and it was too late when I realised that I never should have mingled with him.

“When Hyojoo said she wanted to focus on motherhood, he told me that he was going to kill you. At first, I dismissed it. How could a father kill his own child? But then I followed him to the NICU and realised that I was wrong– monsters did exist. I had to stop him, but I couldn’t show him that I was weak, or else he was going to kill me. I suggested that we switch the baby. At first, he was against it– he insisted that I didn’t have to bother. But I told him that I would raise you as my own, as the heir that he would like. I would raise you to be a clever girl just like her mother, with the ambition and wit of her father. Jinwook… you feed his ego and he bends. He agreed to this, but he told me that he would be watching me very closely.”

“Oh, lord,” you brought a shaky hand to your face, covering your mouth. It made no sense, but… it was the truth, and the truth hardly ever made sense.

“I did what I had to do to protect myself and my family,” Secretary Park sighed deeply. “It’s a wonder my wife didn’t divorce me immediately. I think she never bought this lie, but at the same time, I wouldn’t divulge anything and she hated that. She decided to distance herself from me, and I thanked god everyday that she remained with me to raise Sunghoon. I devoted myself to her, but you… your presence continued to drift us apart. I had to raise you like my own child. It hurt to look at you, but you were also a life that I saved. You were a secret now, and I started to plan on how to expose Jinwook’s involvement with the Strictland Programme. I started to think about how to tell Hyojoo that her daughter was alive, but I think a part of her always knew that something was wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s a mother. They have this instinct– she refused to believe that her baby died,” Secretary Park smiled at the memory. “Jinwook told Hyojoo that he loved her and that it was going to be okay, but he didn’t look too sorry that his child passed. He insisted that he was just glad that his wife was alive, but she… she knew something was off. The funeral happened, and she got back into politics. She was clever– she never asked around. She investigated herself, very discreetly, but it’s hard to find a baby. You weren’t in the orphanages, and nobody knew of your presence in this house until you were a teen and I sent you to school under the pretense that you were my niece.”

Your face was damp with tears. How beautiful was it to be a mother and know that your child was still alive somewhere? The motherly instinct… you looked at your ring and smiled at the pearl.

“She and I met once, you know,” you sniffed, playing with the ring on your hand. “The party in ‘63, hosted to welcome President Lee’s debut into politics. You locked me and Sunghoon in a room but we sneaked out. I went to the balcony and she joined me. We talked about a few things, and… there was this pull. Apparently, what I said remained with her until the end, and what she said to me… it remains with me even now.”

Secretary Park leaned back, nodding slowly in realisation. “You were wearing the pearl ring that I personally stole from Hyojoo. She saw that, didn’t she?”

“Yes,” you looked at him and he shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it. “Was this what you intended?”

“Not at all,” he admitted. “The ring… Lee Jinwook started to suspect me at one point. I was becoming feisty and used your existence to manipulate him sometimes. Apparently, he still feels a sense of ownership towards you and it rubs him the wrong way when I threaten your wellbeing. I knew the significance of that ring so I told you to never take it off. It was my protection. With the ring on your finger, the RV spies who owe a debt to the Han family would protect you from everyone, including me. They would know who you are, though I’m half-sure they had an inkling before too. And… I could threaten Lee Jinwook openly. I would cooperate with him but as a partner, not as his lackey. If he tried to hurt me, my family or my business, I would simply ask Hyojoo to come over for tea. She would meet you and recognise the ring on your finger.”

“But she met me before you intended to make that happen,” you said. “And she started to investigate.”

“I sent you to Wonderland because of that– and because you’re a curious little thing who heard about Strictland,” he scoffed. “Hyojoo had no idea how dangerous Jinwook was. She was going to act rashly, I was sure. Jinwook monitored her. He knew that she created the Sirens as her own spy network to find out about you. She saw you at the party but she didn’t know that you were supposedly my niece. Her cousin, Ji Chang Wook agreed to look into the matter discreetly. He knows of your identity.”

“Lovely,” you muttered, folding your arms. “So you tried to kill me multiple times because?”

“Never kill,” Secretary Park corrected. “Only… hurt. Only a show for Jinwook so he knew that he could not control me completely.”

“It’s been years,” you said. “Could you not have exposed him earlier?”

“With the Strictland’s governors and the elites backing him up? No,” he shook his head. “He would kill my family and make me watch. That’s the type of man he is, y/n. I did what I had to do to survive and protect my family, and if that meant that I had to turn into a monster, then I willingly and happily did so.”

“Am I a part of the family that you try so hard to protect?”

Secretary Park’s silence was answer enough. He wasn’t quite meeting your eyes, fiddling with the pen almost nervously. You smiled in disbelief– if this man hated you, he would have said so. Apparently… he thought of you as family, even after everything.

“Why did you really force me to come back here?” You asked a final question.

“I wanted to keep you close,” he admitted. “I could keep an eye on you and expose him. I wouldn’t have to worry about your well-being. I know your Crescent boys can protect you, but they are hardly aware of the gravity of this matter. Jinwook was thoroughly annoyed as you acquainted yourself with the Crescents and President Son. I told Jinwook that now was a good time to call you back, but really… I just wanted you close so you wouldn’t become a thorn in my side.”

“And so you could protect me,” you added and he scoffed but when he didn’t deny it, you gave in, sighing. “Look… I get it now. I’m your protection, and President Lee is going to kill you in the worst way possible if we make a wrong move.”

“That about sums it up,” he shrugged.

“I… I don’t claim him as my father. I hate that man,” you began, fighting to keep the vulnerability at bay and failing. “I’m very detached from the idea of suddenly having a mother too. As far as I know and my heart accepts for now, my mother is dead and you are the man who raised me. My father.”

“Y/n–”

“Listen, I hate you,” you interrupted with a steel gaze and he, for the first time in his life, looked guilty. “I hate you for what you did to me, but now I understand why you had to do what you had to do. So I need you to understand me when I say that I’m with you as your family and you are not alone in this battle. I need you to stop using me as a shield and start using me as the weapon that you raised me to be.”

Secretary Park poked his tongue on the inside of his cheek in an attempt to restrain his laugh but he ended up chuckling anyway, shaking his head in disbelief. “This is it. I raised you like this, and it’s coming to bite me.”

You smiled. “You have a fatherly instinct towards me, whether you believe it or not. I thought it was odd, the way you jumped to physically protect me tonight when you were the same man who, to my knowledge, tried to kill me multiple times. I hate you, and I don’t claim you as my father either, but I naturally have a daughterly instinct towards you too. So if you’re planning to sacrifice yourself or something just to take that monster of a man down, I won’t allow that. But… that does not mean that you can get away unscathed from this either.”

Secretary Park considered your statement carefully. “What are you planning?”

“Prosecutor Bae… I need to learn more about her. If she is working with the Crescents and if she is on our side, we report all these crimes to her and the Eden Crime Court. That means that you will be put behind bars, as will President Lee.”

“I’ve considered that option myself,” Secretary Park confessed. “Prison doesn’t sound so bad to me. I deserve it. But don’t delude yourself into thinking that you can put that monster behind bars, y/n. You can’t just walk into the Eden Crime Court and report all these crimes. He has allies everywhere.”

“I think that this is the best option that we have for now,” you countered.

“Think again,” Secretary Park got up, checking the time. “I told you, child. He cannot be dealt with in such a mundane manner. Go and get some rest. I’ll let you contact the Crescents in the morning.”

With that, he walked out of the room leaving you with more questions. You rubbed the tension out of your temples and forehead before going to your room. With your mind numbing with every second and your body moving mechanically, changing into a more comfortable attire, you found yourself sitting at the edge of your bed and rethinking everything about Secretary Park’s role in your life.

As a pre-teen, you had naturally yearned for attention from the person you thought was your father. Of course, you were not aware of the complexity of your relationship but you didn’t need to be old or wise to see that your father treated you differently than the rest of your family. Subtle, but enough to know that Sunghoon was allowed to get away with anything. You, however, were supposed to act a certain way and deviating from your demanded behaviour would earn you reprimands and punishments.

As you grew up, you learned to get away with it as well. Since you were going to get treated differently anyway, you decided to take advantage of your circumstances. Being better than Sunghoon at everything was going to take you places.

Little did you know that Secretary Park’s attitude towards you was not just of mild annoyance or inconvenience. He had been walking on eggshells around you for the entirety of his life. He had to pretend to be someone he was not. From what he told you, it seemed like President Han and Secretary Park were well-acquainted once. Were they friends at some point, or was it strictly business? If President Lee and Secretary Park were so tightly knit before the incident with your birth happened, President Han must have been friendly with him too.

President Han. Your mother. A shuddering breath escaped your mouth at the idea of what could have been if things had been normal– was there such a thing as ‘normal’ anymore? You looked at your pearl ring and took it off, going to your vanity to open the drawer and toss it inside. Clutching the surface of your vanity, you looked at your reflection in the mirror.

This had to be a bad, bad dream.

How did your mother, Han Hyojoo, live with the idea that her child died after a tough pregnancy and a life-threatening delivery? How must she have felt to lose her child, hardly memorising what the child felt like in her arms? Did she cling to the memory of your frail body against her, the few minutes that she was allowed to hold you in a day? Did she memorise your features? Did she whisper your name every night in the memory of you until she passed away?

What sort of a devil Lee Jinwook was to do that to a person he claimed to love? How did you have both your mother and your father’s blood running in your veins? You were nothing like your biological father. You refused to find similarities. Your scheming, observant mind was a courtesy of Secretary Park raising you. He shaped you into the person you were today.

Was Park Byung Eun a saint or a devil for allowing this to happen as long as his family remained safe? You supposed that it made sense, but if he was a saint, was that guilt in the lines of his face? Was it remorse in the way his smile never met his eyes? Was it some newfound love for you in the way he protected you? And if he was a devil, did you become his weakness?

You curled under your blankets, bringing your knees to your chest in a fetal position, hoping you would wake up and find yourself back in Sector 1 in one of your boys’ arms. Or if you were to wake up in this room, perhaps, you could still be playing the role of Secretary Park’s niece when your biggest worry was gaining his approval and some sort of acknowledgement from him.

There was a deadly silence in the Captain’s head for once.

Ever since he could remember, Hongjoong had been a busy thinker. There was always something brewing in his mind, oiling the cogs of his brain. He never experienced more than a few moments of quiet.

During the war, when he was just a young boy drafted into the army, yet to climb ranks, he would be on guard with a gun in his hands– a gun too big for his then scrawny frame. He thought he would get used to the sound of gunshots. After all, they were training most of the time, practising their aim.

When the enemy attacked and he would find himself in the middle of the battlefield, there would be a short period of silence in his head. It allowed him to collect himself, to gather his wits and calculate his next move.

Sometimes, the silence was a result of a close call. A bullet almost grazing him, the hands of the grim reaper narrowly missing him and grabbing another in his stead. In those moments, he felt a sense of clarity like nothing else, his mind silent and soul aware.

That’s what he felt like now, seated at Seonghwa’s bedside with the underboss’ hand in his. Seonghwa was sleeping after having the bullet from his chest removed and receiving stitches. His hands were unusually cold and Hongjoong was trying his best to keep him warm, his eyes fixated on his chest, monitoring his shallow breaths.

Apparently, he was out of danger’s mouth. The doctor had assured him that he would wake up soon, but Hongjoong remained restless, refusing to leave Seonghwa’s side. His mind was crystal clear and deadly quiet as if he himself had avoided the bullet.

If he could have, he would have taken the bullet for Seonghwa. He would have pushed Seonghwa away and jumped in front of the grim reaper. Unfortunately, it didn’t work this way, and that infuriated Hongjoong to the core.

Who dared to hurt his partner?

A knock sounded on the door and Hongjoong turned to find Yunho, his face stricken with worry. It seemed like he had heard the news and arrived from Sector 1.

“Can I come inside?”

“Of course,” Hongjoong’s gaze softened at the sight of the consigliere and Yunho hesitantly walked in, standing beside Hongjoong. He watched Seonghwa for a few moments.

“How badly is he hurt?”

“Narrowly avoided the heart, but not a fatal shot,” Hongjoong responded. “He’ll wake up soon.”

Yunho nodded, bending down to caress Seonghwa’s head, relieved that his old friend was going to be just alright. He turned towards Hongjoong.

“And you? Are you alright?”

Hongjoong nodded. Yunho passed him a gentle smile, leaning forward to join their foreheads and Hongjoong closed his eyes, understanding everything Yunho wanted to say even though he didn’t speak it out loud. The reassuring caress of Yunho’s thumb across his cheekbone was enough.

I’m glad you’re alive. I’m glad you’re okay. I’m glad Seonghwa is going to be alright.

He drew back with a pat to the Captain’s shoulder, dragging a seat near him.

“What’s going on?” Hongjoong finally asked. Seonghwa had been shot moments after Assemblyman Wi and he rushed to get Seonghwa to safety with the guards. He was taken to a private clinic to get treated by a doctor who owed them a favour and afterwards, they retreated to the residence. The guards stationed themselves outside. Ten went to investigate and Jaehyun was in the office, reporting back and forth.

“General Wi is dead,” Yunho said with a deep sigh. Hongjoong had heard. He gave him a sombre nod. He couldn’t quite believe it even though the man had been shot in front of his eyes. “It has to be President Lee’s doing. I don’t know how much Secretary Park is involved in this, but Luna is back at his home for now.”

“Luna is not a part of this,” Hongjoong all but declared.

“Of course she isn’t,” Yunho said softly, aware that Hongjoong said this to remind himself. There was no way Luna would have sponsored or even been aware of the events of tonight. She would not have allowed any of this— not even General Wi’s death. She would have tried to warn instead.

“I encountered Wendy on my way here. The RV spies believe that Secretary Park will work with Luna to help us bring President Lee down, but we have to be secretive about his alliance.”

“What’s your plan?” Hongjoong asked, turning his full attention towards the consigliere. He no longer wished to take the lead and while he did not want to shift the burden to Yunho, especially now that Seonghwa was out cold, he had faith that the rest of the boys would be sharing his responsibilities now.

“Who among the Crescents knew that you would be at the Edenary Opera Hall tonight, Joong?”

“The boys, of course. Taeyong and Mark, who were with us,” Hongjoong bit the inside of his cheek as realisation started to wash on him. “Yuta. He was to join us as Seonghwa’s bodyguard but he had a family emergency which is why we took Mark. Jaehyun and Ten also knew about tonight.”

“I’ve got men checking if Yuta really does have a family emergency as he claims,” Yunho told him. “I’m pretty sure it’s Yuta. The mole.”

Hongjoong nodded. He had his suspicions too, of course. A small part of him didn’t want to believe that one of Seonghwa’s oldest friends had betrayed him like this. “Ask around the Opera Hall and see if anyone spotted Yuta tonight.”

“On it. I’m going to the Park Pharmaceuticals warehouse with Mingi and Wooyoung.”

“Just the three of you?”

“And an army,” Yunho muttered. “I’ve had enough of letting them trample over us. I don’t care if Secretary Park is a good guy. To me, he’s still President Lee’s partner and our enemy, but I’m going to send a message. That’s the best I can do right now without getting put behind bars for treason.”

“Are you sure?”

“You said so,” Yunho smiled this time. “We are the leaders of the underworld that no one escapes from. We are Ateez, and it’s time we showed them that we don’t just sit back and watch. We can fight back, and we know how to.”

“I trust you,” Hongjoong assured him. “Do your thing. Stay safe.”

The consigliere didn’t need to be reminded of his safety. His own safety didn’t mean much to him– not when his people were being threatened to hide in the shadows.

The people of the light must have thought that since the Crescents belonged in the shadows, they must be taking refuge in it. However, the shadow was a place of momentary relief for them. The shadow was their home.

Luna might have been right, then. Maybe they were meant to rule the light too. The shadows might be their home but the light was their kingdom and they needed to let the world know that they were closer to the gleaming throne than anyone else.

Yunho stretched the piano wire in his hands experimentally as he stood outside the Park Pharmaceuticals warehouse located at the outskirts of Edenary, right near the Sector 2 border. His tongue poked into the inside of his cheek as he carefully scanned the perimeter, the handful of soldiers that had accompanied him marking every exit from a distance.

Mingi appeared from the backside, walking with the confidence of a landowner and Yunho couldn’t help but scoff at his carefree saunter. The capo adjusted his leather jacket as he took his position at Yunho’s right, a cigar in his mouth that he offered to him. Yunho denied but appreciated the gesture. Mingi took a long smoke and looked at the consigliere, clicking his tongue in disappointment.

“Wearing white to a bloodbath? You’re going to get your sleeves dirty.”

Yunho, amused, snapped the wire purposely. Mingi didn’t make much of it. He just pressed the cigar between his lips and proceeded to roll the sleeves of Yunho’s shirt, dusting his black waistcoat as if thankful that his friend hadn’t opted for an all-white outfit.

“Keep your good dresses for the civilised meetings,” the younger scolded and Yunho chuckled this time, motioning towards Wooyoung who appeared from their left, chatting with the soldiers and instructing them animatedly. While he was dressed in all black, the two could tell that this was still one of his finer suits. Yunho winked at Mingi, having proven his point and Mingi raised his hands in surrender.

“Three exits on the back, the main entrance there,” Wooyoung pointed below the big, white banner with ‘Park Pharmaceuticals’ written in bold red. “About 20 soldiers and the rest are workers. Think we can handle that?”

“Absolutely. Unless someone has gotten rusty,” Mingi poked at Yunho’s side but he only raised his brow in answer.

“Just because you both practise every other day doesn’t mean you’re better than me now,” he challenged.

“We’ll see about that,” Wooyoung quipped, mischief twinkling in his eyes. “20 krodus if Yunho gets less than 10 men.”

“Make it 30 if he gets less than 5,” Mingi added.

Yunho restrained his smile. “You’re paying me 20 and 30 if I get more than 10.”

“That’s a deal,” Wooyoung and Mingi nodded.

“Remember, boys. No killing… first,” Yunho reminded them. “Unless they shoot, and then you’re allowed to take out your guns.”

“Yes sir,” Wooyoung and Mingi said in unison.

Yunho waited until all the 10 soldiers were in their positions in front of them. Johnny was leading them and he stood facing Yunho, waiting for his signal.

“I’ll give you both a head start,” Yunho teased and Mingi and Wooyoung scoffed in disbelief.

“Aw, he’s just getting old,” Wooyoung patted Yunho’s chest, nodding in mock understanding. “Don’t work your knees too much, old man. We’ll take care of things.”

Mingi chuckled and Yunho signalled Johnny, who shot a bullet into the air, alerting the guards who had previously been too busy playing cards to make sense of the uninvited guests. The men looked up, confused and soon, they were rounding up in little groups, cigarette butts being smashed beneath their feet and weapons being produced– everything ranging from a bat to a gun.

Yunho glanced towards Wooyoung who was currently admiring his heavy knuckles dusters. The brass gleamed in the faint sunlight and Yunho wished it was clear and sunny today. He would have liked to see the aftermath of their plan in broad daylight instead of the gloomy cast that obscured his vision.

Mingi, true to his capo duty, produced twin pistols from his pockets, rotating them dramatically. A middle-aged bald man who Yunho supposed was the person in charge stepped in front of Johnny.

“The Crescents, are ya’?” He dusted Johnny’s jacket. It had a red crescent embroidered on the entirety of the front, and even though the Crescents did not have a uniform, Johnny loved to wear this jacket anywhere that he needed to make a statement. It was not in good condition with little holes and scratched leather but Yunho’s guard insisted that was the charm about this jacket that he found by chance.

“Anything we can solve with words, or are ye lot looking for a fight?” The man stood on his tiptoes to look past the gang that concealed the three of the bosses.

“No words. Just weapons tonight. I’m sorry,” Johnny dramatically bowed. “And when we leave, send a message to your beloved boss. Tell him that his house is our next target.”

“Ay, you’re getting personal with him–”

The smack of Johnny’s fist against the man’s jaw was the most satisfying sound Yunho had heard in a while, if not for the pained groan that followed. Yunho did not care if this man, or any man tonight who had the misfortune of being at death’s door tonight, got critically injured. He did not care if they were involved with Secretary Park or not.

All he cared about was that Luna, y/n, a piece of his soul, was being forced to comply with the enemy and might be in mortal danger. All he cared about was that you were helpless and relying on them to do something. With no contact for so long, did you start to wonder that your boys would never come for you? Did you start to doubt if they really had your back? The thought of it pained Yunho and made him so, so angry.

You had willingly walked into the battlefield for them. To protect them, to protect your family, to protect everyone but yourself.

So Yunho would create a battlefield for himself to honour your sacrifice.

A fist to the jaw. A kick to the shins. Yunho expertly dodged each attack with the expertise of a soldier and the fluidity of a warrior. He stretched the piano wire, the garotte sticks firmly pressed in his grip, and used it to disarm anyone who dared to think that they could land a blow on the consigliere of The Crescent Company.

He dismembered anyone who dared to hurt him or his partners– did these gangsters forget that Yunho, too, was one of them once? That he, too, had risen from the shadows and the dirt and walked with them and among them? Drafted to the war as a lost teen like so many of these men who fought against him now, crawling his way up until he was honoured with the title of a lieutenant colonel at his young age?

These men may have managed to protect their limbs during the war but this was a battle, and in a battle, there was blood. Yunho observed his perimeter like a hawk, mostly covering for Mingi and Wooyoung who were on the offensive with Mingi maiming the men with bullets rather effortlessly, and Wooyoung having too much fun beating them bloody with his fists. A man shot at Wooyoung which he narrowly missed. Yunho made his way towards the shooter and caught him by surprise, wrapping the piano wire around the man’s neck and squeezing until his eyes started to bulge out of his sockets. With a kick, Yunho let him be.

But then he was caught in a dagger fight with the leader of the gang himself. The middle-aged man, though sporting quite the belly, was as slippery as an eel, moving in quick and fluid movements and even managing to nick Yunho at various spots. Yunho did his best to defend himself with the wire, attempting to disarm him– that was probably what the old man thought Yunho’s goal was.

Instead, Yunho took the garotte sticks clutched within his fists to use as weapons, smacking the man in all his weak spots– wherever he had a visible injury. If the man was slippery as an eel, Yunho was as stealthy as a shadow and within moments, he was stationed behind the old man and had his wire wrapped around his neck, this time slicing clean and producing a stream of blood. Yunho had used just enough force to ruin his life– if he did manage to survive this injury.

With the leader now slumped on the ground, Yunho signalled Johnny who shot in the air thrice in succession, a signal that the Crescents were victorious. The leader remained clutching at his neck, gurgling blood while a young lad attended to his injury, cautiously sneaking glances in case Yunho decided that he was next.

“Guess you won’t be able to relay my message,” Yunho said to the old man, shaking his head at the way life was starting to leave the man’s body. As if it wasn’t his own fault.

To the young lad, he said, “Rush him to the hospital. What are you waiting for? He can still live.”

Yunho stepped back to allow a few men to carry their leader to safety. He took a look around, scoffing. What a sight. It was as if he was back at the battlefield again. He might as well have been. The cries and moans definitely sounded nostalgic.

“Since your leader is out of commission,” Yunho announced in a loud volume, enough for the ten or so injured men nearby to memorise, “Tell Park Byung Eun that if he doesn’t allow our partner to come back home, his little safe house is next.”

“What will you do? Go marching in and hurt his family?” A man dared to ask. Mingi immediately had his gun pointing at the man’s head, even though he was quite far. Mingi was moments away from shooting.

The man remained frozen with anger brimming in his eyes. Mingi looked towards the entrance of the warehouse a few feet away from where he stood. One of the Crescent guards gave him an okay sign.

Mingi looked towards the man and turned the direction of his gun towards the entrance of the warehouse. With one look at Yunho who nodded, he shot a single bullet at the foot of the entrance, successfully igniting a fire that spread rapidly inside.

Anyone who had been hiding inside was now screaming and exiting through the unguarded doors. No one dared to attack anymore. Mingi and Wooyoung joined Yunho and the three turned their backs to the fire that enveloped the entirety of the Park Pharmaceuticals warehouse in its wake.

President Lee would hear about this and find that Secretary Park is not the Crescents’ ally. It would give Luna some time to secure Secretary Park’s alliance, even though from what he had heard from the spies, President Lee was starting to doubt Secretary Park.

That could not be safe for Luna, so Yunho was only doing her a favour.

Plus, it satisfied something in him to see the Park warehouse on fire. For all the pain they had given his girl, this was just the beginning.

next chapter

taglist pt 1:

@lorensonebraincell @sungbeam @waywardstaytiny @lluvia1415 @woohwababes @jjaemasung @fruithoughts @fancypeacepersona @propinquitypsithurism @kyomiingi @ateezswonderland @janetsarttrove @thenopekid @justconniez @daniela-f-uwu @hwasbestlover @vcutparis @missbangtangirl @zaynsfl4m3s @beabatiny @slowitdownmakeitb0uncy @alliethequeen @lavishloving @haowonbins @franbowesax @klllerwaifu @katerade23 @selfishw4ltz @paramedicnerd004 @atzlordz @curse-of-art @meowmeeps @intowxnderland @faeriehwa @staytiny-yaps @ishz @dumplingsyum @bunnychui @kandy108 @chanst1ddies @softsanglix @yongility @sang-09 @sweetinsaniiity @a-teez-4-exo @omgsuperstarg @saintriots @bihwabi @pshwifey @emotionallyanaemic

#OMG FINAL ARC LET'S GOOO #ok so i was right about waiting until this chapter to rant about my thoughts bc oml #but first of all ASSEMBLYMAN WI??? why am i so sad about this #and then secretary park's protective fatherly instincts towards luna?#like yes he's not the father but he is THE FATHER #also omg the lore so i was both right AND wrong and im happy about it #prezzy lee is an evil fucking bastard #it's so sad about how secretary park had to take over bc ugh #his wife! :((#i can't believe i am defending this man rn but wow yumi #AND SEONGHW AGETTING SHOT YOU CAN'T PULL THIS SHIT WHENEVER YOU WANT 🫵🏼#the little moment between yunho and hongjoong :((#AND THEN OMG MAFIA FIC ALRIGHT #THE PIANO WIRE YOU EVIL GENIUS #THE SWTTING THE WAREHOUSE ON FIRE #ICE ON MY TEETH WHOO???#poly ateez x reader #ateez x reader #ateez angst #ateez mafia au #ateez series #ateez fanfic

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emotionallyanaemic · 15 days ago

Text

The Leaders | Chapter XV

"lies, control, rules, numb, hatred, emptiness."

masterlist

ot8!ateez x f!reader, mafia au

chapter warnings: drinking, smoking, illegal businesses, mentions of war/military, drugs, gangs and corruption, mentions of assassination(s), anxiety.

chapter wc: 15.1k

chapter synopsis: you are now at the park mansion and sunghoon reveals that your allies are closer than you think. you officially meet president lee and he reveals his intentions regarding your position and asks you to prepare for a meeting with president kwon of halaland. trusting your allies, you subtly inform halaland’s president about foul play from president lee’s side. you send a message to the crescents regarding president kwon’s arrival, trusting that they arrange a meeting and sort things out. the crescents learn the truth about your background and the sirens from wendy. you receive your ring’s receipt from sunmi and the weight of the truth threatens to crush you.

prev chapter recap: you are a guest at the evening show with sunny at the eden channel where you introduce silver light, reveal its background and ties to the elites, and announce the analgesic that the crescent company has produced under the name sylunox. this creates a major shift in the political tide as the public starts to question if president lee and secretary park had kept this high quality analgesic from the common man. the crescents get together to celebrate and seonghwa reveals that assemblyman wi will be playing double agent. you go to edenary with jongho to follow-up on that and learn that the assemblyman’s family is under the president’s watch to keep him compliant. you offer him winter as someone who could protect his family and he decides to think over it. assemblyman wi reveals he found a photo of a baby in president lee’s belongings and the baby supposedly looks older than his late daughter. he will be looking into the possibility of another child. president lee makes a public broadcast announcing 15 spies caught who are to be executed publicly in the eden square but you learn from mr. ji that the 15 people are innocent and members of the sirens. it seems like only you have a chance of pulling some strings and saving them and you scramble to do so but realise that the only way is to accept secretary park’s orders and go back to him. still, you fail to protect the 15 lives and secretary park sympathises with you, finally taking off his mask and revealing he is as helpless as you, bound to compliance with a threat that he refuses to reveal. disturbed, you spend the night in jongho’s arms who eases your guilt. you go back to sector 1 to say your goodbyes and hongjoong comes to your apartment to check up on you. for the first time, you allow yourselves to be bare and vulnerable with each other.

Your room at the Park Mansion was just like you had left it.

It must have been cleaned out recently since it didn’t smell of dust and abandon. There was a faint scent of detergent in the air that was definitely coming from your sheets. They were the same old floral ones that you once loved.

You sat on the edge of your bed and ran your hands over the fabric, eyes darting around the room and stopping at the vanity. The perfume bottles had been arranged neatly with some new ones that you didn’t recognise– or perhaps, you didn’t remember. After all, it had been a solid seven years since you said your farewell to this space.

This room and this house had always been a cage. You were not allowed to leave the room in the presence of guests when you were young, and there were almost always guests in the Park Mansion. Sometimes, Sunghoon would lock you inside just to show you who was the boss. Sometimes, he would get locked inside with you when your father had enough of your squabbling.

Your room felt bigger than the last time you were here, though. Was it the passage of time that made it feel more spacious, or was it a newfound sense of liberty in you despite being caged here once again?

You sat on your vanity and checked your drawers, going through your old things– some jewellery, a few cosmetic products that you supposed were too old to be of use now, some random objects like stationery and letters, a few scribbles and sketches, and a few ornaments.

Something caught your eye, hidden in the strewn of objects in your drawer, a distant memory. You dug the small ornament out– pressed wisteria on a grey stone, polished over in protective resin. A smile tugged at your lips.

You received this during the war as a token of a soldier’s gratitude after you assisted in treating their injury. While you did not remember the soldier’s face anymore since it had been a day full of wounded soldiers, you carried this ornament around for the remainder of the war as if it were a good-luck charm.

You wanted to take it to Wonderland with you, but your departure had been so rushed. You missed it while packing your belongings and it was only after you saw the real wisterias in Wonderland that you felt a surge of relief. The ornament was not with you but perhaps, its luck found you in that foreign land.

One of the maids knocked at your door, alerting you of Secretary Park’s arrival. You were to join him for dinner so you gathered your wits and stepped out of your room. You had a role to play, and that was one of a prodigal child who had returned to repent.

In the dining room, Secretary Park was seated at the head of the table, his reading glasses perched on the tip of his nose and a concentrated frown gracing his forehead as he skimmed the newspaper. Sunghoon was at his left in his usual seat. Your spot awaited at his right.

You silently sat down, smoothening your clothes and ignoring the way your brother scoffed at the sight of you. You couldn’t blame him– you hadn’t shared a meal like this, as a family, in so long.

“Well,” Secretary Park removed his glasses and considered your presence. “Shall we begin dinner now?”

“Yes sir,” you answered and he began to fill his plate, you and Sunghoon following soon after. The scent of roasted potatoes and meat was nostalgic, helping ease the tension in your body as it settled into an old but familiar environment.

“Have you thought about how to proceed forward with your status in our future meetings?” Secretary Park inquired.

“I would like to keep going as Luna of The Crescent Company, since it's public knowledge that I’m a shareholder now,” you started. “As for my familial status, whatever you’d like.”

Secretary Park hummed in response. “Blood of mine working for a rival company is not a good look.”

“It’s not like anyone knows how we’re related,” you shrugged. “It’s all speculation.”

“People are no longer going to run on just speculations now,” the man said, swirling the red drink in his glass almost carelessly. “You’re not a child anymore. They are going to want to learn the truth.”

“Then tell them the truth,” you restrained a deep sigh. “If that is what you want.”

Secretary Park’s lips curled in a smirk. “The truth, huh?”

Silence settled over the table and Sunghoon grunted at the thick tension, muttering something about how all this talk was ruining his appetite.

“The truth is a strange thing, y/n,” Secretary Park said after finishing his meal. “Anything can pass as the truth as long as you cover your tracks and make it believable. You will continue to use the surname Jeon if anyone inquires about your background. Sunghoon’s maternal side has some Jeon-s. You’ll pass as a niece.”

“Right,” you muttered. Sunghoon’s mother. The poor soul would be tortured in a new way with your presence now, not that she was here to witness it. Apparently, after learning that you were returning, she decided that it was a good time to visit her family.

That, or Secretary Park had sent her away because he was afraid of her being loose-lipped. His wife had never done much regarding your case except express her dislike of the situation. Maybe it was out of love for her husband that she kept mum about you, or maybe she was threatened to. The latter didn’t seem unlikely now.

“We’ve got a lot to do in the upcoming days, but a formal introduction to President Lee is where we will begin since you’ll be accompanying me to the office sometimes,” Secretary Park said and your heart sank to your knees. “Be prepared tomorrow in the morning.”

“President Lee…” you swallowed the bitterness in your throat. “Is that really necessary?”

“It is, unfortunately,” Secretary Park sounded as bummed as you. “Just follow my lead and don’t speak too much. He’s… got a way with words. Don’t let it get to you.”

“Right,” you appreciated the heads-up. “Anything else?”

Secretary Park studied you for a few moments. “No. It’s good to have you back, though I wish the circumstances were… different.”

“You don’t have to lie,” you scoffed, unable to keep the resentment from your voice and Sunghoon chuckled at the exchange.

“She still gets riled up so easily, father. I’d love to hear how tomorrow’s meeting goes,” he wiped his hands and got up.

“Make her feel welcomed in the house, Sunghoon,” Secretary Park had the usual warning tone in his voice– a father’s voice. “You’re both grown up now, and I would appreciate it if you don’t quarrel like children anymore.”

“Yes sir,” you both replied simultaneously and Secretary Park left the room. You followed soon after, though Sunghoon was right behind your trail.

“The big meeting,” he mocked. “Our little girl is all grown up, going to see the president.”

You stopped in your tracks right in front of your room, turning and asking in the most nonchalant manner. “Is there something you need?”

“Is there something you need?” Sunghoon shifted his weight on one leg. “A dose of courage, a piece of luck? Maybe some dirt on the president?”

Well, that had your curiosity piqued. After his warning about Secretary Park seeing you soon came true, you were starting to take him a little seriously.

You silently opened the door for him and he entered, looking around in a habitual manner and poking at your stuff before finally taking a seat. You stood near the bed with folded arms.

“What do you have?”

“What do I get in return?” He asked, ever the businessman.

“What would you like?”

Sunghoon crossed his legs, mulling over your question. “Can I hold on to that?”

“As long as you don’t end up demanding something unreasonable, sure,” you shrugged. “Now, spill.”

“Hmm… Do you know why father only called you back now? After all this time, after letting you work under the Crescents and then with the Crescents?”

You shifted uncomfortably at his question. “I think the obvious answer is that so he could pull me out at my peak, like he did, in order to attempt to harm The Crescent Company? Or something along those lines?”

“That is the obvious answer, yes, but there’s more to it,” Sunghoon began, his eyes glinting in a manner that indicated that he was about to divulge forbidden knowledge. “What do you suppose that would be?”

“I really don’t know,” you said, unable to keep the exhaustion from your voice.

“He let you reach this point because he was aware that your Crescent boys will protect you.”

“That makes no sense,” you scoffed. “He tried to kill me multiple times. What was that? A test for the Crescents?”

“That was something else,” Sunghoon assured. “It wasn’t him– not always, and when it was, he didn’t mean to kill, just warn. Or test to see if the RV spies were still protecting you.”

So Sunghoon was aware of the spies. He seemed to be aware of a lot of things now and you were starting to wonder if that was the courtesy of Secretary Park or if he had been snooping around on his own.

“You’re saying that his big plan was to hope the Crescents would protect me when he calls me back?” You said, the statement sounding ridiculous to your own ears. “I’m here. The Crescents are back there, they won’t protect me.”

“We both know that’s a lie,” Sunghoon shook his head. “The Crescents are fiercely loyal. Father is aware that you’ll be playing spy during your tenure here, and he is perfectly fine with that. It would do you good to remember that, and to start looking at your situation from a different perspective. You’ve got a lot of allies, and some of them are closer than you think.”

Sunghoon got up and started to leave but you stopped him. There were too many questions at the tip of your tongue, but Sunghoon pushed your hand away in a very uncharacteristically gentle manner.

“Sleep over this. I can’t answer all of your questions.”

He left then and as you settled into your bed, you started to realise a few things.

In all those years spent apart, somewhere along the passage of time, Sunghoon had grown up. He was no longer the unpredictable angry son who switched between despising your presence or teaming up with you to revolt against your father. He was a true businessman now, exchanging information as long as he benefited in some way.

Was he finally acting like a brother? No, he was still the same. Back then, he had his moments where it felt like he did care just a wee bit, though your father made sure you kept your distance and his mother made sure you did not get along too much. Was this a carefully planned strategy for you to shoot yourself in the foot and get in everyone’s bad graces, which he would enjoy very much? It didn’t seem like the case this time. His claims had some depth to them.

The Crescents were protecting you. In sending you here, they had ensured your protection while they dealt with the President and the rest of their enemies in a true gangster fashion. They had taken things too far with the public executions, and the Crescents had taken upon themselves to restore order, even though they were the representation of contained chaos.

It was about a week ago when you sat in the office with Hongjoong, Seonghwa and Yunho to reveal that you had made your decision to join Secretary Park and to plan the next course of action.

For perhaps the first time, it was Hongjoong who understood why you had to go back. Seonghwa and Yunho were too frustrated and angry at the thought of letting you go back to think straight, and it took a lot of time and effort for the both of you to make them understand that this had to be done.

“I don’t support this,” Seonghwa announced. “President Lee is a dangerous man, Luna. Whatever he wields over your father, he has to comply. He could easily force you to take steps that you don’t want to take.”

Yunho agreed. “I can’t trust them to not do anything. If they just aim to damage our business, we’re fine with that– we can handle that. But they’ve gotten personal. We’re only lucky it was not us who were arrested and executed.”

“Secretary Park won’t let harm come to me, not like that,” you tried to reason and Seonghwa gave you a pointed look, the memory of the attack near the warehouse when you were still a bookkeeper still fresh. “If he needs me close to protect me and his family, I can cooperate. I owe him that much.”

“You don’t owe him anything–”

Yunho started but got interrupted by Seonghwa, “I personally wouldn’t believe a word that comes out of that man’s mouth.”

You looked at Hongjoong for help. You could tell that he could relate to his underboss and consigliere. He probably shared exactly the same sentiments.

“The decision is ultimately Luna’s,” Hongjoong said and the others agreed. “The RV spies always insisted that Secretary Park is not the real threat. If President Lee is the real threat, then that explains Secretary Park’s erratic behaviour.”

“But…” Seonghwa started, glancing at you and shifting almost uncomfortably. “Just because he’s family doesn’t mean he won’t attempt to harm her again.”

“I think I can handle that. Winter won’t be with me but I’m still under the protection of the RV spies, she claimed. Someone would still be making sure I make it out alive, for whatever reasons they’re protecting me,” you told them.

Winter and you had already come to an agreement. She would go to Sector 2 to protect General Wi’s family, and in return General Wi would cooperate fully with the Crescents and play the role of a double agent as best as he could. Winter ensured that the RV spies would be trying their best to protect you, even if you couldn’t see them. They had enough power to pull strings from anywhere, at any time.

“You will make it out alive, but will you be alright?” Yunho sighed deeply. “I’m worried about your well-being. You can go to protect your family, sure, but I won’t just sit back and let you suffer there on your own.”

You smiled earnestly at the man, always so willing to do anything for you. Always so willing to suffer for you. “You know that I’ll be doing everything in my power to protect you from there too. I guess we’re all going to be doing the same thing.”

“So it’s decided, then,” Hongjoong looked at Seonghwa. “Luna will go to the Park Mansion.”

“Your safety remains everyone’s top priority, including yours,” Seonghwa leaned forward, warning in his eyes. “If I hear that you’ve risked yourself to protect us, I will personally come to your house and set it on fire. I don’t care if Secretary Park or Sunghoon is inside.”

“Noted,” you said, stifling the urge to gulp.

“Don’t even think about contacting us,” Yunho said, his voice sounding forced. “If Secretary Park says no contact, that means no contact. We’ll keep an eye on you and we’ll proceed accordingly. If you’re caught making contact with us, it’ll be hard to protect you and you might… god, I can’t do this. Do you have to go?”

You nodded, understanding his frustrations. You squeezed his thigh in assurance and he covered your hand with his. “I won’t be writing letters or calling you. I’ll trust that the spies cooperate and you know everything you need to know. If there is something very important that needs to be conveyed… I’ll make sure it’s safe.”

“Please do,” Yunho rubbed his face, exhausted. “The boys are not going to like this.”

Silence settled over the room. You looked at Hongjoong and he nodded. There was nothing else that could be done. You all understood that you could not keep risking innocent lives anymore. You had already lost too many.

Even though you were here in Park Mansion now in order to protect your people, you could not forget the faces of those you could not protect. Since sleep was a blessing, it didn’t find you and you lay awake throughout the dark, lonely hours of the night without the warmth of one of the boys, or even the reassuring presence of your roommate Wendy nearby.

Never in your life did you think that you would one day step into the Eden Hall, office of the President and his team.

Situated inside the Eden Dome, a portion dedicated to the president and his team was referred to as the Eden Hall. It was the office of all the previous presidents after the monarchy was abolished about a century ago. The office was a myriad of teams accompanying their leaders with documents in their hands, in high spirits and trying their best to keep up. It was busy, but their liveliness improved the bleak appearance of the office.

Secretary Park was greeted at every corner. It was your first time accompanying him to the office so it was strange to see the young employees bow to him in respect, the elderly shaking hands and sharing brief hugs, acknowledging your presence in a warm manner too. You supposed that as a long-standing politician, he had probably guided and mentored a lot of people here.

The President’s Office was at the upper story, right underneath the blue dome. On the way to his office, you found the walls of the building decorated with frames of all the past presidents.

Right outside the President’s Office at the end of the corridor was the portrait of President Son Seokku, his 10 year tenure marked under it. Next to his portrait was President Han Hyojoo’s, a youthful face with a sense of immortality despite her short-lived era.

Secretary Park allowed you to observe the portrait for a few moments. You asked him if he was acquainted with President Han while she was alive.

“She was… a wonderful woman,” he admitted and you looked at him in surprise. It was unlike him to sound so genuine about someone, but perhaps, you had never cared to ask. “A great mind. She would have made great reformations to Eden if she were alive.”

“Isn’t President Lee supposed to be ‘fulfilling her legacy’ or something?” You quoted the term you had often seen the media and the president himself use.

“It’s all marketing,” he said matter-of-factly. “If President Han was alive to see what her husband has become… I’m glad she’s not.”

You had to agree. Straightening your gray plaid suit, you followed your father to the office, entering with a knock.

Secretary Im was already there, presenting a report to the man. Secretary Park steered you to the sitting area where the President was to join you in a few moments. You took in your surroundings– the room was all mahogany wooden carvings from the walls to the furniture, true to its royal background. The smell of jasmine lingered in the air.

When President Lee walked over, you got up and bowed in greeting. He gave you his trademark smile and urged you to sit down.

“So we finally meet,” he said, scanning you with great detail and extending his left hand. You thought that it was odd but you shook his hand with your own left hand. “Y/n.”

Secretary Park had told you that he was aware of your family background. It still didn’t help the queasiness that coursed through you as soon as your name spilled from his mouth.

And when he shifted your hand to inspect your pearl ring, grazing it with his thumb, your queasiness only worsened.

She looks just like her mother, he had said. Another man who knew of your mother’s identity and refused to reveal it.

“It’s an honour,” you said, even though those words tasted like bile.

“Your… father has been eager to have you back,” he looked towards Secretary Park who watched your exchange with an amused look of a man who knew too much. “I look forward to getting acquainted with you, y/n.”

“It’s Luna,” you corrected him.

“Luna of the Crescents, I’ve heard,” President Lee urged you to take your seat. “I don’t suppose you’ll be using that title for much longer. It doesn’t look good for either party if you do.”

“Well, the Crescents don’t mind my current… predicament,” you assured him, noting the darkness that flickered across his face. “Secretary Park doesn’t either.”

President Lee only smiled in response. “I’ve heard that you have quite the negotiation skills.”

“I suppose I have,” you nodded slowly, once again ticking the man off. He took a deep breath before he continued.

“I’ve talked with Secretary Park. I would like you to join us in our meeting with President Kwon of Halaland. It’s scheduled for the 24th of October.”

A moment of silence. “Is there a reason you’re asking me to join you? Because I don’t think my negotiation skills alone suffice or explain anything.”

President Lee considered that for a moment, taking a deep breath. “Hyung has been my secretary for five years now. It’s been… wonderful working with him. Our visions align and we’re able to see eye to eye on a lot of things.”

The audacity of this man to lie out of his teeth. You looked towards Secretary Park who was stifling a sarcastic grin, though his eyes betrayed him. After just learning from both your father and brother that the only reason Secretary Park was working under President Lee was because of something that bound them inevitably, forcing compliance, you were highly amused to hear the President lie about it now.

“I’m running for presidency again, as you must know,” he continued. “Considering the ratings, it is highly anticipated that I will be running for a second term, just like President Son did. I’m trying to keep my team in the office for this reason, but Secretary Park… would like to retire soon. I need a mind like his, someone who thinks like he does. Sunghoon would have been the only choice, but…”

But President Lee kept a close eye on you and realised that you were the better option.

President Lee was offering you to become his secretary once he wins the elections.

“I… I’m sure there is someone much more qualified than me who can fill in for Secretary Park, that is, if and when you win the elections,” you tried but President Lee looked sure of his choices.

“Secretary Park and I go a long way back. We’ve done a lot together, and we have… a lot of secrets. We’d like to keep our circle as small as possible. Secretary Park will still be operating from the shadows even after he retires, and from the shadows, he can only control his own child. Is that not right?”

“So I’m to be the substitute for my father and my brother. You want me to become your secretary,” you concluded. “I must remind you that I’m a Crescent now.”

“I’m sure that will benefit us in the long run too,” President Lee clapped in conclusion. “Now, on to the important things.”

The men talked about the direction of their meeting with President Kwon of Halaland, the points they needed to address and clarify. You tried your best to focus, but all you could really think about was how dangerous it would be if President Lee managed to win the elections again. And to think that this was why President Lee wanted you close? Because you were Secretary Park’s daughter, wholly aware of everything regarding Strictland, fully aware of all his sins and perhaps the only person who could be forced to comply as well?

He was going to regret this decision, you would make sure of it.

People with power were usually deluded into believing that power and control went hand in hand. It was not easy to master both. You could have power and not have control over the things around you, however, if you possessed control, you possessed power.

Those were Wendy’s last words to you before you said your goodbyes. You thought she said those things out of nowhere as you sat huddled against each other on the rug in front of the fire, cups of coffee in your hands when you explained your situation as best as you could.

“Big words,” you said in response. “Did you learn all about power and control in that awful office of yours?”

“Absolutely,” Wendy grinned. “Wise words from my mentor.”

You missed Wendy terribly. She understood your situation and didn’t ask if you really had to go, however, she offered to help you. She claimed that she could step in and scare your father away, in a very Wendy-manner with a hot poker. It resulted in the two of you joking until your sides ached from laughter.

You were wishing that you had taken up on her offer. Now would be a nice time to stab the President of Eden with a hot poker.

President Lee’s election campaign was taking place at a farmhouse situated west of Edenary. Today, the President was going to formally address his nation for the first time after the Eden Square executions which had created a division in the public. Some sympathised with the executed, wondering if the President’s intel was legitimate.

However, most were driven into silence. Most agreed with the President. Even the Sirens seemed to have lost their spirits. The supposed traitors’ personal information had not been shared with the public but the Sirens were cautious for all the right reasons. They couldn’t risk the safety of more Strictland deserters.

That must have been why the President seemed so at ease, unafraid of protestors suddenly swarming to disrupt his address. No one dared to, not after the stunt that he had pulled recently. He assured the citizens of Eden that the military operation had been fruitful so far and was expected to bring better results in the future to make Eden peaceful once again.

The farmhouse was filled with politicians. Most of them were inside the single story structure to avoid the cold, just like you. It was moody inside despite the bright lamps around the hall. You spotted Assemblyman Wi in a corner, interacting with a group of people with a drink in his hands. He met your eyes but you both feigned ignorance, having agreed that you were strangers to each other now. Assemblyman Wi couldn’t risk his family any further, and you could not risk his position as a spy.

Assemblyman Kim was also present, dressed in a neat navy blue suit, greeting everyone with his trademark sweet smile. You decided to watch him, waiting until the crowd cleared and Secretary Park separated from you before joining him outside near the buffet table.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Assemblyman Kim frowned but shook your hand in greeting warmly. “Someone has dressed to impress.”

“Believe me when I tell you, as pretty as this dress is, I will never touch it again,” you shivered despite the warm fur coat draped on your shoulders. Secretary Park had personally delivered this teal sleeveless gown to you as a ‘gift’ from President Lee.

You were too conscious of that fact and each brush of the fabric of this dress against your skin felt like it burned.

The only man you had ever received such gifts from was Kim Hongjoong, and you would like to keep it that way, you thought.

“I don’t see any of your partners,” Assemblyman Kim looked around once again for good measure. “Alone this time?”

“Sadly, yes,” you admitted. “With Secretary Park.”

“Secretary Park,” Assemblyman Kim repeated, considering you for a moment. “Have you switched your loyalties? I’ve heard a strange rumour recently…”

“I’m still Luna of the Crescents,” you said sharply but the man looked amused. “Things happened. I’m currently aiding Secretary Park with his duties, yes.”

Assemblyman Kim hummed in thought. “That is not a good look for a Crescent. Certainly not someone who implied about the misuse of a certain drug not too long ago.”

“Well,” you started. “If you paid attention to my speech, I think I also implied that these people have power and will do anything to keep this from blowing out of proportion. I seem to be the collateral.”

“How unfortunate,” the Assemblyman didn’t sound convinced.

“There are things that are not under my control,” you grabbed a glass of whiskey from a waiter who steered near you. “Sometimes, you’ve got to step into the darkness to counter the darkness.”

“I hope you don’t get lost,” Assemblyman Kim said earnestly. “I have high expectations of you and your boys after what I’ve heard from Mr. Ji. It’s a pity what happened at Eden Square though.”

“It truly is,” you said through gritted teeth, nearly losing your footing. “Pray for the damned.”

“Every day,” he confirmed. “You’ve got eyes.”

You turned around, noticing a somewhat familiar face and your eyes widened when you recognised the unexpected guest, who took your expressions as a sign that he was welcomed, joining you when the Assemblyman excused himself.

“What is a Crescent doing here?” Chan of Wolfgang asked, taking your hand and pressing a kiss on your knuckles in greeting.

“Shouldn’t you be in the shadows, Mr. Bang?” You countered, amused at the way he welcomed you. “I think you were meant for the spotlight, though. You’re… quite the show stealer.”

“I aim to impress today, just like everyone else,” he said pointedly. He looked incredibly handsome in a black posh suit with adornments on the lapels of the coat. “I heard business is booming.”

“Hardly,” you muttered. “I wouldn’t be here if it was.”

“Still, the pharmaceutical line is impressive, I’ll admit only to you,” Chan stepped closer as if letting you in on a secret. “You’re the only Crescent I can tolerate.”

“How lucky am I?” You smiled. An idea formed in your head and you asked, “Tell me… will you be returning to Sector 1 soon?”

“Tomorrow in the evening,” he confirmed. “Need a ride?”

“Nay, I need a messenger,” you said. “Can you deliver?”

“Of course,” he pressed his hand on his chest.

“No more of the rivalry between gangs?” You teased.

“Come on, we’ve been cooperating ever since the weapons project was put to a pause,” he reminded you and you grinned, wholly aware of the shift in the relationship with the gang. Wooyoung had made some of the Wolfgang members’ acquaintances and he claimed that they were warming up to him. Even if they were not, which could hardly be the truth considering it was Wooyoung wooing them, there was certainly an alliance now.

“Can you deliver this message to one of the Crescents then?” You asked, digging in your purse and producing your father’s business card. Chan frowned in confusion, turning it around to find cherry trees sketched on the back. “It is of utmost importance that you deliver it as soon as possible.”

“Your wish is my command, but… that’s hardly a message,” he said, though he slid the card into his pocket.

“A message only the Crescents will understand,” you said.

“Are you… not able to reach them at the moment?”

Your smile must have betrayed you, but you shook your head anyway. “Just some things that can’t be said on call.”

Chan nodded, noticing a gathering of business figures and offering to join him as he went to acquaint himself. You took up his offer, switching between him and Secretary Park for the remainder of the meeting. He did not seem to mind you interacting with the Crescents’ rival gang leader one bit.

So the evening ended, a sense of accomplishment in your heart. You hoped it would help drown out everything else you had heard about yourself at the farmhouse, but the voices were too loud and with the loneliness wrapping around your heart, you once again found yourself unable to rest.

What is a Crescent doing here after publicly announcing their enmity to the elites?

Do they think they belong with us? Do they think they have the right to stand where we stand?

Secretary Park’s niece? I heard that’s his illegitimate daughter.

Were the Crescents betrayed then? It would be amazing if that was the case.

If a Crescent is working for Secretary Park, we’ll be okay.

Two days later, Chan personally went to deliver the business card at the Crescent Office in Sector 1. He found Seonghwa and Yunho in the office and they heard all about his encounter with you, making sure you were alright and safe.

After the Wolfgang leader left, they inspected the card and quickly connected the dots. The painting you had made was one of the paintings in the storage room that was hanging on the wall to hide the locker behind it. Your first task as a bookkeeper when Jihoon had told you the key to the locker and instructed you to flee with the contents in case of a raid.

The duo waited until Hongjoong arrived at the office to discuss what your message meant.

“I think she is informing us of a raid?” Seonghwa suggested. “To hide all important documents?”

“But we’ve already done that,” Yunho reminded him. “The locker is pretty much empty– anything the police find in case of a raid will be useless.”

“I think you’re missing the point,” Hongjoong mused. “You have to ask, why use Secretary Park’s business card?”

“Because the matter is related to him,” Seonghwa said and the boss nodded.

“And you have to look at the painting carefully,” Hongjoong passed the card to the underboss. “Last I remember, the painting down in the storage only has cherry trees. Why did she add apple trees in between? Did she think we would not notice?”

“Apple trees…” Yunho was the first to understand, always sharp-minded. “Apple trees signify Halaland. Our biggest trade with Halaland is apples.”

“Someone from Halaland visits Secretary Park’s mansion,” Seonghwa connected the dots. “When?”

“1024,” Yunho was unable to contain his smile, proud. “The key of the locker– 24th of October.”

“Brilliant,” Seonghwa exhaled, clapping. “No one but us could have cracked this code.”

Hongjoong nodded, inspecting the painting. “It must be President Kwon then. He’s bound to meet President Lee after all that’s happened recently.”

“We must inform President Son then, or Mr. Ji,” Seonghwa said. “They are the only people influential enough to request their own meeting with the president of Halaland.”

“Let’s get to it then,” Hongjoong announced. “Let’s not let Luna’s efforts go to waste.”

President Kwon Sangwoo of Halaland arrived on the 24th of October at the Eden Dome for a meeting with President Lee.

His arrival was top-secret. Secretary Park had worked with Mr. Jang of Eden News to make sure that no media outlet reported his arrival. The public were not to get even a whiff of this meeting. When Mr. Jang learned that you, a Crescent, was aware of the president’s arrival, he was sure to remind Secretary Park of the limitation of his network, given that his partner Mr. Ju Jihoon was found collaborating with the Crescents in recent months.

The President was humble enough to arrive with minimal but the best security, passing as just another politician or important figure. Hardly anyone looked twice in his direction and President Lee’s team was quick to surround him as they led him to the office.

Inside the office was President Lee, Secretary Park and yourself, anticipating the arrival and going over the terms once again. You were under strict orders to cooperate. You had little choice not to, and it felt like you were once again on the rooftop of the building watching the masked victims of the Eden Square execution get in line. How was President Kwon going to be any different from those victims? President Lee was planning to trap him from every corner, and you had no idea where President Kwon’s loyalties lied– with his nation Halaland, or with the elites of this continent who were vouching for the success of the Strictland nuclear programme.

President Lee greeted President Kwon and thanked Secretary Im for accompanying the Hala president here. She took a seat beside President Kwon’s secretary who was a middle-aged man.

The two leaders of their respective nations sat across from each other. Secretary Park was seated next to President Lee, sort of a middle-man and you were shadowing him.

Once the introductions were done and pleasantries were exchanged, President Kwon took the initiative and said, “I’ve been hearing about a certain major of my nation frequenting here a lot. Unofficial visits, even.”

“Major Sung,” Secretary Park replied. “We go way back, long before he was a major and I was a secretary. We’re making retirement plans. Perhaps, a vacation house by the sea to reminisce over our career.”

President Kwon didn’t sound convinced. You looked towards Secretary Im who remained with a stoic expression, her eyes betraying nothing.

You’ve got a lot of allies, and some of them are closer than you think, Sunghoon had said.

Taking a leap of faith in an unexpected someone, you subtly shook your head no, indicating that Secretary Park was lying. Secretary Im saw that and let it slide.

Since you were standing behind Secretary Park and President Lee, they didn’t notice anything amiss. However, President Kwon looked at you very casually, continuing with his conversation. “It does not look good for a Hala Major to frequent the Eden Presidential Office so often just to make retirement plans. I’m not unaware of the Strictland Nuclear Operation and your involvement in that region.”

“Well, as a nation that borders Strictland, it is only natural that we keep up with the happenings in the region,” President Lee spoke in a light tone. “Our involvement goes as far as keeping up with the times.”

“So you send your troops and station them at the border. Is that not a call for a fight?”

“Absolutely not,” President Lee assured, but you were quick to shake your head yes very slowly, very subtly. Though President Kwon didn’t meet your eyes this time, you were sure he noticed. “As you must know by now, we’ve been carrying out an operation. We fear that our people have betrayed us and are selling information to other nations. We’ve only stationed our troops to inspect the travellers.”

“You’re assuming the nation in question is Halaland,” President Kwon looked amused.

“It’s only natural of us to suspect Halaland, but we’ve stationed our troops at the Utopia and Wonderland borders too,” Secretary Park tried. “We don’t claim that Halaland is involved.”

“So those people you executed recently,” President Kwon asked. “Who were they selling information to? Or whose orders are they acting upon? Are you sure those people are from Eden?”

“That…” President Lee began after a moment of silence, “is confidential information, I’m afraid.”

President Kwon crossed his legs in satisfaction. His point had been made. You, however, took note of his last question.

“The Strictland Nuclear Operation is a programme that never should have begun,” you stepped in. “Strictland is a part of Halaland. It is your own people that started this operation under everyone’s noses. They are the ones who reached out to the ‘elites’ of this continent. What matters now is the stability of this continent. An aggressive approach from either side would do no good.”

“Is it not your president that means to rile us up? You cannot convince me that the troops stationed are not for infiltration into Strictland and to gain control of that territory. If there is a nuclear operation, it is Halaland who can announce it to the International Defence Court since Strictland is not a recognised nation.”

“Here is how it is going to be,” Secretary Park leaned forwards. “We could end up reporting this illegal activity to the International Defence Court ourselves. You can imagine the consequences– you will lose all power over the Strictland territory and all operations and personnel will be seized. Or you can let our troops march into Strictland without making any noise and we can share the goods.”

There was a stagnant pause in the air as President Kwon considered the secretary’s words.

“If you end up reporting to the IDC yourself, it’s going to be considered as Halaland violating the terms of the Treaty of the Eight Hills. You could end up losing everything you have worked for. If both the nations in question report to the IDC together, the Treaty of the Eight Hills itself would be dissolved since the treaty was created to solve our feuds in the first place.

“We could both be nuclear nations, the leaders of this continent. The IDC won’t attempt to stop us if we’re united on this front,” President Lee hummed in conclusion. “It’s pretty simple.”

President Kwon looked grim. “You have cornered me and there is only one way out. You want me to take that way out, but it will result in stripping me of the honour I have for myself, for my people. You’re claiming this is the only way?”

While Secretary Park and President Lee nodded in agreement, you shook your head no. President Kwon seemed to understand. He got up and straightened his clothes.

“I will get back to you in a few days. I need time to think over it, and the troops better remain stationary in the meanwhile.”

“Of course,” President Lee wore the smug smile of a man who had won.

You looked towards Secretary Im. She shared a subtle nod with you and you felt relief in your bones.

Secretary Im had approached you right before the meeting in the tea room and requested you to warn the President of Halaland in whatever way that you could.

“My options are limited,” you said. “I will risk exposing myself.”

“I think the risk is worth it,” Secretary Im replied. “As long as President Lee does not get a whiff of anything, you’ll be fine. He’s your only enemy.”

“What about Secretary Park?” You asked, baffled by her admission.

“It does not matter if he finds out. He has lost this war, but he’s making sure that I remain on the winning side,” Secretary Im smiled cryptically. “We’re relying on you tonight. Let’s see if you live up to your name, Luna of the Crescents.”

You would never have agreed to Secretary Im’s request were it not for Sunghoon’s constant loitering presence around you making sure you were ‘doing a good job replacing him’. Usually, you tried your best to lock him out of your room or call Mr. Butler on him, but sometimes the two of you would stay after dinner, after Secretary Park would call a night. An exchange of information never hurt anybody.

Sunghoon was somehow more than willing to divulge. You were not sure if he was trying to trick you or get into your good graces for some reason– and if that were the case, was he afraid of what the Crescents would do once you were able to leave?

He usually resorted to helping you sort your thoughts out and filling in the gaps about President Lee in a very uncensored manner since it was public knowledge about the demon of a man that he was, but in the previous two days, Sunghoon was slipping some hints about Secretary Im.

When Secretary Im approached you today, you were not surprised because you almost anticipated this. Sunghoon told you about how Secretary Im helped him with his drug addiction a lot, making sure he stayed out of trouble. You were aware that Secretary Park probably assigned some babysitting duties to the poor girl but you were starting to wonder if Secretary Im and Sunghoon had some… history.

Sunghoon knew far too much about the woman. While briefing and updating you about the President’s team, he told you the same thing– that Secretary Im liked to be on the winning side. He said that the moment she would realise that President Lee was going to lose, she would switch sides. She was loyal to no one but herself.

You could use that. She could make for another unexpected ally.

You just had to be sure that this was not yet another trap.

Nobody ever came to the apartment where Wendy lived for several reasons.

To anyone who was aware of Wendy’s identity as an RV spy, no one dared to interrupt her in her off-duty hours. They knew better.

To anyone unaware, it was hardly anyone other than the landlord. None of the two residents of this apartment knew many people in this town personally, so no one ever visited this apartment.

Except when the knock sounded in the late hours of the evening, an unexpected guest, Wendy paused in the middle of reading the newspaper, set her coffee down and went to the kitchen to get the gun that was taped under one of the base cabinets. She loaded it, making sure the magazine was full.

Tucking the gun behind her body, she opened the door just a crack, frowning to see not one but three of the Crescents standing at her doorstep with grim faces.

“I do not recall hosting a housewarming party,” Wendy said, opening the door and letting them inside. Better to get the job done in some privacy then outside for the landlord or another unexpected guest to see, though she supposed that if they wanted to kill her, they wouldn’t have done it here of all the places.

But a spy could never be too prepared, her mentor always told her.

“We’re not here to off you, you can put your gun back,” Yeosang almost lost his demeanour at the sight of Wendy’s tucked arm, a tinge of amusement in his voice.

“I’ll keep it with me, thank you very much,” she said, waiting until the men settled on the sofa. “I suppose you’ve finally connected… some dots?”

Seonghwa and Hongjoong looked at each other, exchanging an unspoken message just like spies did before Seonghwa spoke.

“We’ve just found out that the pearl ring Luna wears belongs to the Han family. It was purchased by Han Hyojoo’s grandmother and was passed down to the daughters in the family.”

Wendy restrained a smile. “There’s nothing strange about Luna wearing the ring.”

Hongjoong cursed under his breath. “If Luna is President Han’s daughter, who is the father?”

“Why, of course her husband. She was never an infidel.”

The men exchanged glances, their suspicions confirmed and the gravity of this revelation threatening to crush them. A lot of the things still did not make sense to them, and they were here to find the answers to their questions.

“It’s going to be a long night, boys,” Wendy finally put her gun down on the table and smiled at the stricken faces. “Tea?”

The boys didn’t respond but Wendy got up anyway and steered towards the kitchen to set the water boiling and think about how to break the background of their newly discovered truth to them. Since Wendy had been instructed to never reveal Luna’s family background, she was under no obligation to not clear the confusion of the Crescents given that they discovered her identity by themselves.

So Wendy got comfortable and opened the pandora of the secrets over some chamomile tea.

“y/n is the child who supposedly died back in 1942, a few months after her birth. When President Han gave premature birth to y/n, the mother and the baby were separated for treatment. It was a time when she showed a lot of political promise, and at that time, Lee Jinwook was just a businessman trying to weasel his way into politics. When he learned that his wife was entertaining the idea of leaving the political scene to focus on her family, something must have switched off in Lee Jinwook’s head. He made the monstrous decision to separate the child from the mother forever.”

“How could he do that?” Yeosang asked. “He had no power to make it happen back then.”

“He didn’t, but he had Major Sung backing him. At that time, the two had met up several times through Han Hyojoo and were already partnering to speed up the Strictland nuclear ops. He also had Secretary Park who made sure the act played out seamlessly. The baby was only a few months old. You could easily switch the baby– it wasn’t as if the mother would recognise her child when she hadn’t even had the chance to hold her baby in her arms.”

“That is…” Seonghwa sucked in a breath, flabbergasted by the revelation. “Cruel. Downright cruel.”

Wendy agreed. “All Lee Jinwook had to do was be a good actor, and we all know that he excels in that department. Hyojoo was too livid at the thought of losing her child that she loved so much. She could never have imagined what happened behind the scenes. Secretary Park and Major Sung made sure that anyone who could recognise the baby was silenced.”

“Why did they help Lee Jinwook?” Hongjoong asked. “He was just a man. It’s not like he could have threatened them or forced them–”

“Oh, but he did,” Wendy sighed. “Major Sung was his partner, but Secretary Park… most of his actions are forced compliance. Lee Jinwook had already come up with the blueprints of the future– in his vision, he was supposed to have his wife become the president of Eden. The Han family has political background and all the connections that he needed to become a great man. He intended to exploit them, to wring them dry, except that his plans were delayed when the birth did not go smoothly. He had assumed that his wife’s ambitions to make Eden a better place for the next generations would be fuelled after she had her own children, but motherhood changes a lot of things. When his plan started to crumble in front of his eyes… he had to get rid of the distractions.”

“He could have done something else, taken another route,” Hongjoong almost spat. “To pretend that his own child died…”

“He did what he thought worked the best for him. He would have killed his own child, I’m sure. It was Secretary Park who saved the little soul and convinced him to not actually kill her. Once he gave that idea, Lee Jinwook made sure that he carried it out. He was to raise his daughter under the pretense that she was his illegitimate child by an affair. If he didn’t cooperate, that monster along with Major Sung would have made sure to wipe Secretary Park and his family to erase all evidence of their foul play.”

Yeosang whistled. Was he supposed to sympathise with Secretary Park now? “So Secretary Park had to raise y/n. I guess it makes sense– if she was in an orphanage, she would have been out looking for answers in no time. This way, President Lee would have been at peace knowing his child was near. Why involve her in politics, though? Why not… I don’t know. Send her to a posh school and make a lady out of her like the elites do, have her learn to stitch and bake instead of how to kill and maim? She could have been married to another elite boy and be living a typical life.”

Wendy scoffed. “That was Secretary Park’s idea of revenge. To make Luna into a weapon who would eventually take her own father down.”

“Oh, heavens,” Seonghwa cried out. “He is one meticulous bastard.”

“He is,” Wendy shook her head. “He is the one who gave Luna the pearl ring, knowing that the RV spies are in debt to the Han family and are bound to protect them. Once we spotted her wearing the ring, we knew that we could intervene, only as much as to protect her from harm.”

“Why could you not expose the wrongdoers if you are bound to protect the Han family?” Hongjoong inquired. “Or does President Lee hold something over you lot too?”

Wendy shifted uncomfortably. “We weighed our options and decided that the peace of this continent, however flawed, mattered more than an incomplete revenge.”

“That’s a sugarcoated way to say that Lee Jinwook outsmarted the RV spies.”

“What of the attacks that Secretary Park orchestrated to harm Luna?” Seonghwa asked after shooting a warning glance at Hongjoong who was currently locked in a staredown with the spy.

“He never meant to kill her,” Wendy sighed, shifting her attention to the underboss. “Only to keep her attentive to him, and to make sure President Lee knew that he very well could end up killing his daughter if he wanted to. Secretary Park wasn’t meant to be a man who could be controlled. It was Lee Jinwook’s shortcoming to not have noticed that.”

Hongjoong nodded, carefully considering all the elements in this story. “He gave Luna the ring when Han Hyojoo was alive. Did he want her to find out?”

“I like to think that he did,” Wendy admitted grimly, a wistful smile creeping on her lips. “I think Luna must have mentioned the 1963 party at Park Mansion, right before she left for Wonderland when Hyojoo found her. A stranger with her ring on their hand– that’s who Luna was to Hyojoo. However, call it maternal instinct, she started to look into her. She wanted to ask about the ring, about her name, her identity. She did it secretly, of course. Not even trusting the RV spies– she called her cousin for this matter, and thus the foundations of the Sirens were laid.”

“Cousin,” Seonghwa repeated. “Ji Chang Wook is Han Hyojoo’s cousin?”

“Maternal cousin, yes,” Wendy confirmed. “They stay very much out of the political scene, but when Hyojoo shared her suspicions, Mr. Ji did what he could, except Jinwook got a whiff and had Hyojoo assassinated soon after. It was killing a few birds with one bullet. With his wife’s death, he made sure his image remained pristine. He easily won the elections, and he reminded Secretary Park of what would happen if he tried to expose his daughter’s identity like that.”

“Why not kill the Sirens then?” Yeosang asked. “Save himself from all the trouble that is brewing now?”

“If he killed Mr. Ji, he would have declared war on us,” Wendy reminded him. “Mr. Ji’s family may be out of the spotlight but they are still part of the Han family and we are bound to protect them from harm. We failed to protect Han Hyojoo, but that only made us more determined to protect the rest of the bloodline. Besides, the Sirens wouldn’t take the death of their leader lightly. To them, Mr. Ji is their saviour. You must know by now that the Sirens is mostly comprised of Strictland deserters. They already lost Hyojoo…”

“Did President Han know about Strictland too?” Seonghwa asked, eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Is that what you are implying?”

“That is exactly what I’m saying. She initially contacted her cousin to help find his daughter but as she looked into her husband, she found out about Strictland. She could not ignore the forced labour that goes on in there. Some of the people forced to work in the Strictland Nuclear Base are from Eden too.”

“You said that Hyojoo initially formed this group to find her daughter,” Hongjoong regarded the spy with interest, waiting for an explanation.

“And Ji Chang Wook found her and knew of her since a while ago. Yet… the Sirens remain active without intervening on Luna’s behalf. Maybe Luna isn’t their primary focus now, yeah? Afterall, she is safe. She has been doing well.”

“So Mr. Ji is a revolutionary at heart. Interesting. What is the debt that you owe the Han family anyway?” Hongjoong asked.

“A blood debt… if you can call it that,” Wendy wasn’t going to reveal anything, that much was clear to Hongjoong. “Let’s just say they saved our mentor’s life, and she doesn't like to be indebted to anyone.”

Hongjoong nodded. “Now President Lee wants his daughter back?”

“He’s not going to tell her anytime soon. It’s Secretary Park who will slowly break the truth to her. He understands that the only person who can take down that monster is his own blood. He’s carefully laid out his big plan, made his moves and now he aims to surround the king of the board with his knight.”

The boys shifted uncomfortably at the thought. They could not imagine the devastation their partner would feel after learning the truth about her identity.

“Does anyone else know?”

Wendy shook her head. “I suppose you should confirm the facts with President Son and Mr. Ji. It would be easier to work together with no secrets among each other.”

“I expect you will cooperate with us then,” Yeosang began. “President Lee is a monster and will not hesitate to harm his own blood if the need arises. Luna needs to be back here, safe with us before she tries anything.”

“There are too many elements in question now,” Wendy bit the tip of her thumb in thought. “If we’re going to work together… let’s orchestrate a plan to bring the president of this nation down.”

Prosecutor Bae Doona always thought that her homeland Eden was corrupted at its very core, but the past few weeks really stressed the idea that something was very, very wrong with the people running this country.

As an avid reader of history and politics pre-democracy, she had extensively studied the laws of this country during the time of the monarchy. That was well about a hundred years ago and since then, a lot of alterations had been made to the law in order to accommodate the changing times. Every president of Eden after the monarchy made their own changes or manipulated the law to their advantage.

However, nothing could have prepared the prosecutor for the news of the publicly executed fifteen ‘traitors’ right at Eden Square.

While the prosecutor was not alive at the time of the monarchy, she was aware of the significance of Eden Square. The royalty had their family house in Sector 2 but the Eden Dome was where they resided. It was their house and their office.

The Eden Square had hosted a lot of festivities during their time. This was where the last princes and princesses of Eden grew up and played around the three-tiered white fountain that was now worn out with age. This was where their wedding parties were held, the square full of life and joy. This was the place where they were courted during open-air balls. This was also where the monarchy would interact with its people and listen to their woes and sorrows with stalls of fresh bread and ale to keep them fulfilled.

When Prosecutor Bae heard about the Eden Square as the chosen spot for the public executions of the alleged traitors, she thought that it was a joke. There was no way the young, somewhat promising president of Eden was going to taint the memory of that deeply historical site like this. If the execution was to take place here, this would be all that Eden Square would be remembered for in the coming times.

However, the execution took place. The blood of fifteen people tainted the memories of that site forever. Eden Square, once the symbol of life was now reduced to a place of death. It didn’t matter if the fifteen people were actually traitors. They could be worse, but Eden Square should not have been the spot for their public execution.

Heck, a broadcast execution was not necessary. They could have been dealt with in prison and the news of their execution would have been enough to scare whoever the president wanted scared.

“If you stare at your cup any longer, it might shatter,” Prosecutor Cho Yihyun finally commented after observing her superior for a few moments.

Prosecutor Bae blinked and looked up at her young assistant and then back at the newspaper that recounted the recent execution.

“I was reading,” she picked the edges of the newspaper between her fingers as she said.

“You’ve been memorising, more like,” Prosecutor Cho refrained from sighing. “Anything of interest? Any observations?”

“I was just thinking…” Prosecutor Bae shifted in her seat, facing the assistant who sat on her left across the room. “I was just thinking about how the Eden Crime Court must be handling the case of these spies. Surely, the President must be working with a team of prosecutors from the ECC. This could not have been a consequence of his private investigation… right?”

“I’m hearing that it is, in fact, very private,” Prosecutor Cho narrowed her eyes with interest. “Do you miss your time back at the head office?”

“Being an independent prosecutor is boring work. Just a handful of us here. It was always very lively there, I’ll give them that,” Prosecutor Bae said with a faint smile on her lips. “Though… it was hard being a person with some morality there, as is anywhere. There is a reason they won’t let me go, you see. I’m still their ace prosecutor.”

“It’s hard being a person with morality anywhere,” Prosecutor Cho did sigh this time, loud and clear. “Inspector Gong is a prime example of what happens to people with morality. Poor Inspector. Bet he was also an ace in his branch.”

“He is anything but poor,” Prosecutor Bae smiled knowingly. “He never stopped snooping around. I’m just waiting for him to reach his conclusion one day. Without my help.”

“Did you ever think about taking that case?” Prosecutor Cho asked. “President Han’s case, I mean.”

“I don’t like meddling in unwanted territories unlike the Inspector. Had someone reached out to me, I might have actually considered it.”

The sound of the door chime alerted the ladies who straightened and pretended to be busy with work instead of gossip. A routine habit now. Nobody wanted to walk into a private prosecutor office to find the said prosecutors with no cases.

“Good evening, prosecutors,” a young lady greeted them and Prosecutor Bae looked over her reading glasses to scan the oddly familiar woman. She appeared as refined as one could be, in a posh three-piece suit and an expensive looking golden wristwatch. The woman’s hair fell neatly over her shoulders. In her hand was a black file folder.

“Good evening,” the prosecutors greeted back and Prosecutor Cho urged the potential client to take a seat. The client took one of the empty seats in front of Prosecutor Bae and Prosecutor Cho joined them.

“I am Prosecutor Bae and this is my junior, Prosecutor Cho. Please introduce yourself.”

“Just the two of you here today?” the woman asked.

The prosecutors exchanged looks. Someone had done their checks. “Today, yes. Prosecutor Nam is on leave for a few days.”

“Perfect. The less the merrier,” the woman clasped her hands and smiled widely. “I’m Wendy from Sector 1.”

Prosecutor Bae made an impressed face at the lack of information that introduction held. Wendy recognised that look very well.

“Who I am does not matter,” she explained. “I’m merely a middleman of sorts for my actual client. Kim Hongjoong.”

“Kim Hongjoong,” Prosecutor Bae repeated. “Are you perhaps referring to Kim Hongjoong of The Crescent Company?”

“The one and only,” the woman smiled and something about the curl of her lips unnerved Prosecutor Bae. “I understand that you prioritise confidentiality in the utmost regard, hence why I revealed my client right away.”

“Otherwise we wouldn’t have gotten anywhere.”

“Right. Kim Hongjoong extends an invitation to meet with himself and his partner for this case, whose identity you will learn upon arrival. The location will remain undisclosed as well and I will be escorting you and your assistant to the site myself.”

“You’re assuming that I will accept without any explanation or understanding of this case,” Prosecutor Bae took off her glasses so the woman could properly see the frown gracing her features. “I am far too old for this drama. If Mr. Kim requires consultation, he can come here himself like a proper client. I do not discriminate among my clients.”

“I know that very well. The ace prosecutor of Eden Crime Court,” Wendy cocked her head and Prosecutor Cho concealed her smile with an awkward cough. “Well, what I can give you is that we’re waging war against the President of Eden with this case. Since most of the Eden Crime Court seems to be covering up the recent happenings, we reached out to the one person who would question these events.”

Prosecutor Bae watched Wendy slide the documents on her table away until the newspaper that she thought she had carefully concealed was in plain sight with a painfully large photo of the bloodied fountain in Eden Square. The Prosecutor narrowed her eyes. It couldn’t be…

“Do you accept the invitation? There is no going back once you do.”

“What say you, Yihyun?” Prosecutor Bae asked her assistant. “Up for an adventure?”

“I quite like the silence lately, but I reckon with someone of your standing, it can never be too quiet here,” Prosecutor Cho commented and Wendy lightly chuckled. Prosecutor Cho looked at the strange woman. “We’re still prosecutors from Eden Crime Court. If we get orders from our superiors to back out at any point, we will have no choice but to obey.”

“Your client– the undisclosed client– holds quite the high ranks himself. I’m sure your superiors from the court will not be allowed to meddle, that is, if they learn about this investigation in the first place.”

“You mean that we are to keep from reporting this to the headquarters?”

“Exactly,” Wendy said and got up, opening her folder and taking out a single page. “Confidentiality. I will require your signatures. Please make your decision right away so I can make further arrangements.”

“I don’t like this,” Prosecutor Bae took the paper and gave it a read, finding it a typical confidentiality agreement document. She shared a knowing look with Wendy and then reluctantly, but with no doubt in her heart that she was once again on the path of morality, she signed the document. Wendy smiled in farewell before she left.

“No clue about how to contact this woman and where to meet her… how strange,” Prosecutor Cho looked in Wendy’s direction until she disappeared. When she looked back at her senior, she found her smiling. “I know that smile. What was on that document?”

“Nothing at all, yet everything I needed to know,” Prosecutor Bae said. “Tell me… when people hear my name, they are usually aware that I was President Son’s legal advisor for most of his term, right?”

“Almost everyone, yes,” Prosecutor Cho agreed. She remembered hearing about Prosecutor Bae as a student. Her role model, the young female legal advisor in the presidential office was quite the topic back in her days. Now she had the honour to work with her.

“President Son is aware of how meticulous I am, especially about the details others would miss at first glance. He often joked about how I should be working in forensics,” Prosecutor Bae chuckled darkly. “I’m sure he would have known that I would recognise the very specific kind of paper, ink and font, the combination that only he uses. Didn’t even need a stamp.”

Prosecutor Cho frowned in confusion.

“Prepare for a meeting with President Son, dear,” Prosecutor Bae smiled, an unusual spark of life in her otherwise monotonous eyes. “It’s a former president against the current president. Inspector Gong would have been ecstatic to hear this.”

Prosecutor Bae did not think that Inspector Gong would be the very first person she would see at the meeting point with her latest clients. He looked far too happy to be here, an odd expression to wear when they were gathered to discuss something so grim. Prosecutor Bae glanced at her assistant who was staring at the inspector in disbelief.

“You were right,” Prosecutor Cho said. “Inspector Gong really is ecstatic to hear about this.”

Prosecutor Bae could not help the chuckle. Inspector Gong seemed to have been notified of her arrival since he walked rather pompously towards them, as if boasting the fact that he was here before them. That he knew more. He sauntered towards them and Prosecutor Bae clicked her tongue in mild annoyance.

“Is the Crime Court aware that one of its most revered prosecutors is on her way to solve a case against their sponsor?”

Prosecutor Bae extended her hand and he shook it, extending the greeting to Prosecutor Cho as well. Prosecutor Bae put her hands back in the pockets of her coat before responding.

“Is the sponsor– the President– aware that the very detective he demoted because he was meddling in his personal affairs, is now back for vengeance with the status of a mere inspector?”

Inspector Gong tried to shake the embarrassment off with a crooked grin. “Didn’t have to get personal like that.”

“You started it–”

“Oh, look,” Prosecutor Cho attempted to create a distraction. “That Wendy woman is here.”

That Wendy woman looked right at home in Lady Kim’s vacation house in Sector 3, to the point that Prosecutor Bae wondered if she was somehow related to Lady Kim or President Son. She was dressed too casually to be one of their house staff who seemed to have a dress code, and the Prosecutor did not miss the weapons belt that she wore on her waist and right over her boot. Upon asking, she learned that she was not anyone’s guard, which made the amount of weapons on her strange.

The prosecutors were led to the veranda where Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa were already present, along with the hosts and a middle-aged man that Prosecutor Bae did not recognise.

Everyone exchanged greetings and settled down but it wasn’t until Assemblyman General Wi arrived in the room that the atmosphere shifted as he regarded the unknown man’s presence.

“Ji Chang Wook,” Assemblyman Wi called and Mr. Ji smiled at him. “What is the leader of a rebel party doing here?”

“It’s an odd combination of people here, I must admit,” Prosecutor Bae started and Prosecutor Cho, who was seated on her side, hummed in agreement. “Assemblyman Wi and President Son in one room with The Crescents and the Sirens. Who would’ve thought?”

“There are people, some alive and some dead, who are to be credited for gathering us like this,” Lady Kim smiled knowingly. “I trust you are aware that we are mainly gathered because of President Lee’s recent actions, or missteps as I would like to call them.”

It seemed like the people present in the room were familiar with Lady Kim’s judgement of Eden’s current president. Nobody seemed to be surprised to hear the former first lady speak so boldly of the current president. In fact, President Son was trying hard not to smile like a proud man in love. Lady Kim looked at her husband in warning and he straightened, pursing his lips and making the rest chuckle, helping the tension in the room dissolve.

“I am aware, yes,” Prosecutor Bae was thoroughly amused at the exchange. “I’m aware that there seems to be a deeper connection of the recent events with what’s been happening, especially involving the Sirens. How the Crescents or the Assemblyman are related to this case, I’m not quite sure.”

“Doona, as an old acquaintance and friend,” President Son began, leaning forward. “I require your help. President Lee aiming to annex Strictland and declare it a nuclear state is the crux of this matter. He’s done too much in the process of getting here, which includes the assassination of his own wife, though we have no evidence to prove that anymore, and… faking the death of his own child. As well as the recent execution of 15 innocent members of the Sirens.”

“Bold claims,” Prosecutor Bae exchanged a look with her assistant who seemed pale. “Faking the death of his child? Where’s the proof?”

“The child itself is the proof, alive and well,” President Son revealed. “You may recognise her as Luna of the Crescent Company.”

Prosecutor Cho grunted in discomfort as she tried to process the news while Prosecutor Bae met eyes with the Crescents who sat straight and unyielding. She had been following the news regarding the Crescents with much interest, and suddenly, some dots were starting to connect.

However, Assemblyman Wi and Inspector Gong looked perhaps as surprised as the prosecutors. Inspector Gong was clenching and unclenching his fist, looking as if he wanted to say something but kept holding back. The Assemblyman was muttering curses under his breath and asking for an explanation.

Wendy took the liberties of explaining in a sequential manner everything that President Lee had done to achieve his current status– from befriending the elites of this continent and joining the specific group that aimed to make Strictland an independent nuclear state, almost killing his own child until Secretary Park suggested that he take the child under his wing as his own, manipulating his wife and then eventually getting her killed after learning that she had created her own investigation group to find her daughter– the group that was now the Sirens Rebel Party– to managing to outsmart everyone and create distractions so he could betray the very elites he was once friends with to annex Strictland instead of helping it gain the status of an independent nation.

All so that he could be the most powerful man on this continent. With Strictland annexed, Eden would be the only nuclear state on this continent. All the neighbouring nations and the others would have to bow to Eden. Bow to President Lee. He was going to violate the international laws and break the Treaty of the Eight Hills in doing so, which was ensuring the peace between Halaland and Eden. President Kwon of Halaland had been informed of that and was waiting for an opportunity to help President Son sort this matter out.

Mr. Ji informed everyone about what the Sirens truly stood for. He candidly told everyone about his familial connection with President Han and how he went through a lot to look for her supposedly dead child and ended up coming across Strictland deserters. President Han had vowed to protect the people of Strictland after learning about what was going on at Strictland but she could not fulfill her promise as her life was cut short. The burden of keeping the promise naturally shifted to Mr. Ji and he was more than happy to work on it. However, he had just lost 15 of his people and he felt powerless for the first time in a while.

Assemblyman Wi provided his input by filling the gaps and revealing how he was playing the role of a spy himself now. With his family under threat and Luna being gracious enough to offer her own bodyguard for his family, he could now play the role of spy with a somewhat eased state of mind. The President was expecting the Assemblyman to fumble the election campaign by taking a military stance, thus ensuring President Lee’s win.

The Assemblyman said that he no longer cared about the elections, but Lady Kim was smart enough to point out that once President Lee was out of the picture, he might very well take the presidential seat. The Assemblyman General only smiled in response.

Inspector Gong revealed the details regarding his investigation and recent reinvestigation of President Han’s case. He had recently met up with Secretary Oh Jungse who was willing to share everything regarding President Han’s case. There was no tangible proof that President Lee had orchestrated the assassination on his wife but since Luna was alive and well, that was enough proof of President Lee’s misdeeds.

“Now you understand why I called upon you,” President Son sighed. “This case cannot be taken to Eden Crime Court directly. It will be covered up and there will be more blood. I need you to suggest a better route that we can take, if any. And I would like you to be the prosecutor who handles this case.”

“And here I was thinking about retiring,” Prosecutor Bae shook her head. She took a few moments to think. “Since President Lee likes media censorship so much, our best bet would be to expose him in public. You can pull strings and manipulate news but you cannot stop people from gossiping. I suppose the first election campaign would be a nice moment for that.”

“How would you attempt this?” Hongjoong asked. “I don’t think you can simply just walk there and make this happen.”

“Oh, but I can,” Prosecutor Bae smiled. “Once the presidential candidates are done addressing the audience and appealing for support, they invite the chief guest for the ending remarks. The chief guest for the next election campaign happens to be one of the judges from Eden Crime Court. I can request him to let me tag along. He would be happy to let me, unless he learns of my attendance here.”

“President Lee will try to stop you by any means,” Seonghwa warned. “He does not care about anyone but himself. If he needs to burn the whole building down to keep gossip from spreading, he will do exactly that.”

“I don’t need to say much, you see,” Prosecutor Bae informed. “All I will need to announce is that President Lee is under investigation for the reasons that we discussed and provide nothing more. That would be enough. It would take but two minutes, and can be achieved easily after the chief guest, the judge, is about to conclude the event.”

“Your presence might raise a warning flag,” Assemblyman Wi said. “We must be careful. Everyone knows of your repute and your love for honesty. You can’t be bought or silenced. President Lee might realise that you are attempting something.”

“Keeping him distracted is your job,” Prosecutor Bae looked towards everyone else. “I will simply be in the audience, in the dark. I’m not much of a public figure so not many will recognise me. My attendance would be a very normal happening to everyone who is unaware of what is going on. So, Inspector, and Assemblyman… and maybe you Crescents. Keep the President distracted. This seems to be our only shot, unless…”

“Unless?” President Son inquired.

“In the case that things go awry, I urge that you step into the spotlight and lead this case,” Prosecutor Bae requested and President Son shared a look with his wife. “You were a prosecutor yourself before you became the president. One last case for our late friend. Together, we will be able to take this to the International Defence Court once we have tangible and legal evidence of the happenings regarding Strictland.”

“Let’s hope it does not come to that,” President Son sighed deeply. “And let’s hope this stunt goes smoothly. Let’s all… all of us…”

The former president met eyes with everyone in the room. Wendy, the Crescents, Inspector Gong, the prosecutors, Mr. Ji and the Assemblyman, as well as his wife.

“Let’s all make it out alive. Your safety and your life is your utmost priority. Should anyone feel compromised or under threat, step back immediately.”

The air felt chill in the room, though the smiles shared warmed the hearts. Prosecutor Bae felt a shiver down her spine and Prosecutor Cho lent her hand to her senior, sharing unspoken words.

The gut feeling of prosecutors who had dealt with dangerous cases like these too many times. Prosecutor Bae had never liked President Lee but she was not aware of the magnitude of his wrongdoings. Though she had confidently announced her plan and even believed that it could work, she would have to be very, very careful moving forwards.

Still, she could not shake off the feeling that something was about to go very wrong.

Tea was served, biscuits and other treats were passed and the tension in the room dissipated. An almost casual exchange began with jokes and jabs thrown around. It was almost lovely to sit in the same room with such intellectual minds.

But she had a feeling that even though this was the first time the ten of them shared the same space, it would also be the last time.

The no-contact situation seemed ideal when you planned it with the boys, but now it was starting to feel like you had shot yourself in the foot.

At that time, you were not aware that Secretary Park was no longer your enemy. He wasn’t an ally now either, but he was not forcing your compliance like you thought that he would. Sure, he ordered you around– join him in his meetings and perform some tasks, but considering what Secretary Im had revealed a few days ago, you were starting to think that Secretary Park was the game master and you all were pieces on the chess board, including President Lee.

If President Lee was as meticulous as you had heard, he should have an idea that Secretary Park was not his obedient servant. That was what irked you. If Secretary Park was being forced into compliance regarding you, what did he hold over him to not let the man take utmost control of his life?

You wished you could send a letter to one of the boys– maybe Seonghwa could have helped you sort your thoughts out. Perhaps, if Wooyoung was near, you could have talked it out over drinks. He would have gloated about being right in thinking that President Lee was suspicious, but he would have come up with something to help you.

Or perhaps, you needed the comfort of Jongho’s arms who understood why you had to be here the most. Maybe you just wished you were cocooned between Yunho and Yeosang. They would have calmed you down and helped you get a good night’s sleep.

Even a drunken night’s sleep would be much welcomed now, but you were refraining from drinking. It wasn’t as if you were allowed to go to bars here on your own, not with the current sensitive situation. You were not sure you would like going to the bars here anyway– it would just remind you of your drinking sessions with San when everything was much, much better. When ignorance was bliss. Or even the late night drinks with Wooyoung and Mingi back at the warehouse when you could complain about anything and everything.

You were weary from holding it all inside when you had gotten so used to sharing everything candidly with the boys. There was a time when you could not do that, before you met the boys, and it was an ugly period of life. Wendy came and made it better, but she did not know everything. Still, her presence was as comforting as the boys. You missed her immensely. Heck, you even missed Winter. She never talked but she understood your misery.

It felt suffocating now. The walls of your room felt like they were closing in on you and even the open window letting in the cool winter breeze made you gasp for air at times.

Being in open spaces felt just as overwhelming. You were under the cloudy afternoon sky at yet another gathering at a golf club where the President was meeting potential allies and sponsors for his election campaigns. You were wary of the people talking about you. Some were bold enough to ask about your position– if you were a Crescent who had implied that the current establishment itself was hindering medical advancements, why were you a part of the said establishment now?

All you could do in response was smile and subtly make a jab about how you were an Edenary citizen at heart and it was in your nature to keep your enemies closer. Sometimes, it came off as a joke but when it did not, you earned a warning glare from your father who would always be watching from a distance.

These meetings were exhausting. If you were instructed to mingle, you had to pose as a part of the President team and earn him some allies and sponsors. You could not slack– President Lee expected favourable outcomes and Secretary Park had warned you that he was serious about his results. Your situation would only get worse if you did not bring in results.

It felt like you were letting go of your honour and dignity when you pitched for President Lee. It was Hongjoong’s words that kept you going, words that you repeated to yourself like a prayer.

You are a Crescent, and nothing will change that. You are a Leader. You are ours, just like we are yours.

You were a Crescent, but you no longer felt like one. Not in your clothes, so different from what you wore in Sector 1. Not even in your own skin. You wrapped your arms around yourself, watching the golf cart in the distance carry a group of people towards the dining area. You looked around, wondering if there was a spot that you could hide in and take a breather–

A familiar voice called your name and your lips curled in a pleasant smile for the first time this afternoon, heart warming at the sight of the owner of Maddox and Co. jewellery store. Sunmi hugged you in greeting, holding your hands and squeezing them.

“It’s really good to see you,” she smiled earnestly. “I was hoping to catch you tonight.”

“Oh? Did you know I was going to be here?”

She nodded. “I was in Edenary for a couple of weeks. I met up with the designer of your bracelet,” she caressed the cuff on your wrist.

Hongjoong.

There were so many questions that you wanted to ask, but this was not the place. You only managed a smile and said, “How lovely.”

Sunmi steered you towards the drinks, aware that she was being watched. She had done enough observing tonight to know that you were being watched by not one but two parties. The spies and the president himself.

After what she had found out about your lineage, she supposed the watchful observation was warranted.

The two of you made small talk for a while. It was nice to talk about something else other than politics, and her revelations about her recent customers and designs entertained you a lot. When Secretary Park motioned for you to join him, you began to excuse yourself from perhaps your only friend here.

“I hope you take care of yourself,” Sunmi hugged you in farewell and when she held your hands again, you felt a piece of paper being wedged inside your palm. You managed to keep a straight face. “Your friends send you a message.”

“I understand,” you said and grabbed your purse, slipping the piece of paper inside through the crack, joining Secretary Park as if nothing had happened.

Once in the privacy of your room, you found the piece of paper which looked like a receipt and read it once, twice and thrice before going to your vanity and sticking it to the back of your wisteria ornament– the only thing you would be taking back when you leave.

You did not know how long you sat there with your head between your hands, the truth you had searched for finally right in front of your eyes yet threatening to crush you under its weight.

That night, you took off your pearl ring before you went to sleep. Its weight was a reminder, and you did not need that right now. However, another date scribbled on the back of the receipt has you rolling around in your bed, wondering what was going to take place in five days’ time.

Elsewhere, a young man stood receiving instructions from another man who was not his boss. The young man listened to his orders intently, obeying his head with the submission of a man who fell too hard after flying too high. With nothing to give except a ‘yes, sir’, he shut his eyes when he got reminded of what was at stake.

For him. For these people. For his people. For this nation.

He should have been satisfied with what he had, he thought. He should have come clean when he still had the chance, but it looked like all doors of mercy were closed now and he had no choice but to become the grim reaper and take a life that was not meant to be taken.

“Remember. You cannot fail. You’ve only got one shot at this, quite literally. I trust it hits the mark, aite?”

The young man nodded and when he received the instructions to leave the premises, he took heavy footsteps away from the warehouse. Not the warehouse that he was so used to frequenting back at Sector 1, but another in Edenary that belonged to a man with too much power. The same man who held an invisible noose over his neck now.

“Oi! You, there!”

The young man stopped in his tracks, bracing himself. He never knew what was next– another order that tainted his soul with the guilt of betrayal, another reprimand or threat to make sure that he would bend to their will, but–

“Aren’t you one of the Crescents’ watchdogs?”

But this was perhaps what he dreaded the most. The young man made sure that his mask was intact on his face before he turned away and left the premises without answering.

And that was an answer enough.

next chapter

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emotionallyanaemic · 19 days ago

Text

BIRDS OF PREY — eleven

nonidol!kim hongjoong x f!reader

living in gray areas of your city, out of the way of gangs and mafia territories, could only keep you safe for so long. it was only a matter of time before you began running into problems, or rather, problems began running into you.

▷ genre, warnings. nc-17, strangers 2 lovers, slow burn, mafia au, angst, swearing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of money laundering, implications of an uncomfortable workplace situation, mentions of a garter belts lmao, mentions of hired hitmen and murder

▷ word count. 4.8k

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a/n: next chapter will be much longer, i promise lolol

CHAPTER ELEVEN: DEEPER

THERE WAS TALK. And when there was talk, there was always someone who was anxious.

You had been working at Dionysus for a little less than a week now. Most of the work you did was standard for what you had been doing as a waitress at bars thus far; the only major difference was that this club catered specifically to higher-end clientele. It meant that your uniform consisted less of a T-shirt and dress pants, and more like a short dress and low neckline. The only reprieve from the full-glam and head of hairspray was that your managers let you get away with wearing kitten heels instead of six-inch death traps.

It was a small mercy. But in this line of work, you would take what you could get, and your calves would thank you for it nonetheless.

Night was fermenting into the bitterness of early morning as you made your way across the room to finally clock out of your shift. Your muscles were aching and your cheeks were close to bursting from the strained customer service smile you had plastered on all night. High performance ratings meant the owners could learn to trust you—you were just another cog in the machine, after all. And cogs didn't make choices, they only listened and obeyed and made their masters money.

Several of your coworkers loitered around the end of the bar by the staff desktop. You imagined it wasn't because there was something wrong with it, only that there was something in the air that needed to be discussed. A week of working here and it was unsurprising that you were still amongst the outsiders on staff. Obviously, you couldn't simply state your name and earn immediate street cred or anything; respect and loyalty were earned by different means around here.

“'Scuse me,” you murmured as you neared, weaving your way toward the monitor.

Their chatter fell into sharp whispers, their bodies parting around you like oil meeting water. You paid their behavior no mind, used to it.

As you punched in your employee ID and counted up your tips from tonight, you could at least strain your ears to pick something up. Hongjoong said your job here was to listen.

“Lilac clocked out sick for the third day in a row, so I think she's on the chopping block.”

“Well, that means that there's a spot open on the VIP waiting team, isn't there?” VIP waiting team? You'd heard it mentioned vaguely, and usually in the context of a position you were far from achieving.

A small scoffing sound erupted. “Duh. It'll be hard to get. I heard that this next meeting's gonna have people from further up the ladder.”

There was a pause, and tension pulled taut in the musty, smokey air. “Higher up the ladder? You mean…” Another pause, and you assumed the answer was in whatever silent look or gesture was given.

You quietly finished up at the monitor and removed yourself from the immediate area. You needed to find out when this VIP meeting was, how high these higher-ups were, and how to get onto that wait staff team. If at all possible, of course.

That nervous bundle in your stomach began to twist as you shouldered your way through the kitchen doors toward the staff break room at the back. You needed to breathe some fresh, salty sea air to clear your head, and you would also love to get your feet out of these pinching kitten heels. Maybe then you could think straight and come up with a half decent plan.

“Dove,” a voice called out to you before you reached the break room.

You twisted your head over your shoulder, stopping short. The voice originated from the one familiar person in this place, Jungwon. As your partner in the field, he came onto the Dionysus team as a busboy and usually kept an ear out for drama in the kitchen. “What's up?”

The name Dove was what you went by around here. They couldn't know your real name, so you assumed either Wooyoung, Seonghwa, or Hongjoong dubbed you with the faux nomenclature for your background check. It was catchy, albeit… unique. You wondered if there was some symbolism to it. Birds talked a lot.

Jungwon slung a dish rag over his shoulder, his dark bangs damp with sweat hanging in his tired eyes. “Need a ride home?”

You nodded. “Yeah, thanks. Meet you out back?”

He shot you a thumb's up, and you continued on your way.

The low lights in the break room were grainy and dim, but they illuminated the state of the place well. There was much to be desired, especially compared to how flashy and luxurious the main room looked. There was a dusty couch shoved up against one side of the wall, adjacent to a small table in the corner for staff members to eat at or play cards. The offices were down a hall to the right, and up a set of stairs. You imagined they were in far better shape than this environment.

You turned left toward the rows of lockers. The exhaustion was creeping into the muscles of your face, and you opened your mouth in a yawn as you turned into your row.

There was one other person in the aisle. She had her locker propped open and an orange pill bottle uncapped in one hand. A white capsule disappeared into her mouth, a pill you found out a couple days ago was a caffeine supplement to keep her alert on her walks home. She already had on a pair of pants over her dress.

Sabine was one of the few employees who could relate to your outsider status amongst the others. Apparently, she had been considered somewhat of a lone wolf for awhile, but she didn't seem too upset over not being on the bandwagon with everyone else. The young woman was probably only a couple years older than yourself, with dark cherry colored hair that fell to her shoulders, and a body that looked great in the color black. She was built with sharper features and an alluring, feline-like grace. While she could rock the customer service aspect of the job when she wanted to, her real self was far more socially distanced.

She glanced up over at you as you began thumbing your lock open. “Hey.”

You nodded back at her, yanking your locker open with a metallic screech. “Hi. How was your night?”

A deep sigh. “Same old, same old. Just wanna get my cut of the tips and hit the hay,” she muttered. She grabbed a dark colored puffer jacket and shouldered it over her uniform.

“No, for sure,” you agreed. You pursed your lips and considered her again for a moment. “Do you need a ride again, by chance? Jungwon's driving me back to my apartment and your place is on the way.”

You and Jungwon gave Sabine a ride home last night as well, especially after she mentioned her scares going home. While making the commute at very dark and unsafe hours wasn't new to you, Sabine didn't exactly live in a grey area or exist under the protection of a mafia family. The more you thought about it, the more you were forced to acknowledge your position of power and privilege.

Her eyes raised again. “I… would appreciate that,” she said. She nodded, almost to herself, and began zipping up her jacket. “Thanks.”

“Sure.”

You dug around in your locker to toss on your own winter jacket, wrapping your scarf around your neck, and applying a layer of chapstick over your dehydrated lips.

Should you ask her about the VIP position?

The heartbeat that was supposed to be in your sternum catapulted into your throat.

You coughed. “By the way,” you began, and her attention returned to you, “I overheard some of the others talking out there about some meeting the club's hosting between a few higher-ups.”

Sabine raised her brows. “Right,” she drawled. “Are you asking me who the higher-ups are?”

“Well, I just assumed they aren't our managers.”

“You're a smart girl, Dove,” she told you with a deadpan. “Don't play the innocent card; you know what organization owns this club.”

Ah, she wasn't exactly wrong. It seemed like she didn't know who the heads of Lioncrest might be meeting with, if it wasn't just amongst themselves, though. It wouldn't make sense that any of the employees working the regular crowd would know. The VIP wait staff didn't exactly mingle with your like; even wait staff had cliques, and you weren't a VIP bottle girl.

You shrugged, slinging your purse over your shoulder. “Just confirming,” you said. “You're not interested?”

“Not particularly.” Sabine's words were clipped despite her continuing to answer your questions. She shoved her locker door shut and clicked the lock into place. “Bad experience with that crowd. You know, you think our customers are bad? Wait until they actually have the money to shove behind their ego and entitlement.”

You held your breath, but couldn't suppress a deeply apologetic wince. It was funny how distinct of a feeling fear was; it was a curdling in your belly, something deeply upsetting. It lingered. “I'm sorry I brought it up,” you said quietly. Should you have asked someone else? Perhaps your inquiries were doing more harm than good.

She pressed her lips together, brushing a strand of wine red hair out of her face. “It's—it’s fine. You didn't know. And I get the allure of VIP wait staff, I do.” She nodded to herself again, gaze hard as she stared at the floor. “Just… if you do find yourself near that crowd, be careful.”

“Thank you for the advice—and for still talking to me about it,” you replied. Your hand tightened around the strap of your purse. With the crowds you waited on, you'd learned plenty of de-escalation tactics and smooth maneuvers to avoid unwanted attention. But Sabine's warning meant this venture could come with an additional level of sacrifice. Would it be worth the risk or was it beyond the scope of what Hongjoong asked of you?

“Yeah,” she murmured. “I know Lilac's out sick, so they're looking for a replacement or whatever.”

“I just… didn't really have any opportunities to advance or be promoted at my last place of work,” you reasoned. It wasn't a complete lie; Rina Iwazaki's place didn't have a structural hierarchy as rigorous and stratified as this one.

Sabine hummed in acknowledgment. “So you want that VIP position.”

“Hypothetically?”

A small snort flew from her mouth, and she lifted her eyes to meet yours with a pointed look. “Uh-huh. I get it though, I guess. They do tip well, at least.” She absentmindedly scratched her arm as she marinated on her thoughts.

You leaned back against your locker to give a brief reprieve to your feet. “I dunno, any advice?”

She gave you a once-over. “My advice is to just… not. But if you're serious about this, then you need to be raking in the majority of the tips every night.”

You nodded your head. That made sense. Upping your customer service would be a top quality for being chosen to serve a “higher” class.

“And well… fuck, I don't know.” She shrugged, smiling to herself. “Buy a garter belt.”

Hongjoong wondered if he had gradually become an alcoholic. A glass of bourbon always managed to find its way into his hand, no matter what he was doing that evening. They also tended to magically refill themselves, but that was neither here nor there. He rubbed a hand down his face, glancing off to the side where the crystal decanter was half empty.

Damn. Maybe he should swap out this drink with something like water. Water would be a smart choice, he thought. The inked numbers and letters on this ledger were beginning to blur.

It was nearing three in the morning and he should have been fast asleep. His inner circle were accounted for in some capacity—most of them, anyway. He was certain he saw Jongho, San, and Wooyoung head to their rooms; Yeosang was undoubtedly with Ruby at the greenhouse, as he had been for a handful of days lately; Seonghwa was likely at the headquarters office; and Yunho and Mingi… were somewhere.

Ugh. They could take care of themselves, but something needled at the back of his brain.

He was missing someone from his roster. You were also unaccounted for, but that was… normal. In a way.

He cocked his head to the side in consideration, eyes narrowing at the opposite wall. Yes, you were supposed to have limited contact with him during this period when you were trying to get settled into the Dionysus club. He guessed you were on your way home, or already home. And you were smart enough to catch a ride with Jungwon, but was Jungwon smart enough to offer a ride if you didn't ask—

That was a rabbit hole of inquiries his bourbon-soaked thoughts hadn't the bandwidth for.

Hongjoong shook himself awake and set the glass aside, bourbon still sitting at the bottom. He needed to stay on task. After his, Yunho, and San's venture into the skeleton of the old Strictland base, they brought back with them a box full of ledgers and property documents to try and decode Jung Joonseo's secret ledger. Thus far, he and his commanders had only been able to pick out the entries where Joonseo was siphoning money to his own private account. The numbers that repeated matched the account number they had found on another document.

It was a massive puzzle game, but one didn't know each piece even existed without purposefully looking.

At least one thing was for certain: Yunseok knew his coffers were dwindling. The Kidult property was sold to the DDC around the time Joonseo had already scraped away nearly 200,000 dollars. If Hongjoong wasn't convinced all of these events were somehow linked to his current issues, then he would have laughed in Lee Yunseok's very dead face.

A chime rang out from his phone.

He sighed, reaching over to peer at the notification. His brows furrowed when he saw that the security feeds outside this home was alerted. He watched the feed, the automatic visual recognition system matching the faces in the car's front windshield.

Surprise flickered across his face, then his heart beat hurtled into a gallop. You were here. Why were you here? What was wrong?

He bounded for the stairs to open the warehouse door.

You stood on the other side with the briny breeze blowing in your hair. You lifted a hand to wave at Jungwon once the door was open.

Hongjoong tried not to focus on the fact that your legs were nearly completely bare, and more on the fact that you were quivering like a leaf in the wind. “Good god,” he muttered, “get in here. It's fucking freezing.”

“You're telling me,” you managed to say through chattering teeth as you scurried past him.

The heavy smell of booze drifted into his nose, and it woke him right up, as if he wasn't already on high alert by a myriad of other concerns. Not including the part where you were dressed in less than he had ever seen you before. You were going to catch a cold; did you not bring pants to put on after work? Hongjoong hauled the door closed, locking it tight, his teeth clenching through the annoying pricks of pain in his side.

Soon, that infuriating bullet graze would be just a scar and a memory.

“Why are you here?” he asked as the two of you climbed the stairs up to the living room. What's wrong?

You didn't say anything until you collapsed into the armchair you always occupied. With a grimace, you tugged your feet out of your kitten heels to massage your soles. “It's nothing bad, don't worry.”

Hongjoong dragged a hand down his face as he perched on the coffee table in front of you. “Are you serious?”

“It could be bad. But I have a solution.”

“I need more context than that.” And maybe he did need that last bit of bourbon. He physically turned his face away from you to avoid his eyes wandering.

An eight hour shift and you still looked like a doll.

You tucked your feet under your body, tugging the ends of your coat over your bare legs. “I just… need your opinion. And maybe a donation.”

“A donation?” he parroted, curiosity piqued.

“I'll explain it once I'm done,” you assured him. Your eyes drifted over to the mess behind him, the table littered with paper, the box, the ledger books. “What happened here? Hurricane Red Tape?”

Hongjoong hated that he snorted. There would be no more drinking of bourbon for tonight. “No,” he said, glancing back at it all, “just a new lead we're pursuing.”

“Speaking of leads,” you continued, “I overheard some coworkers tonight talking about Dionysus hosting a meeting with some higher-ups. Supposedly, officers from Lioncrest are meeting with others.”

Your emphasis on “others” was pointed. Hongjoong absentmindedly massaged his jaw. If he was picking up what you were putting down, this could be the thing that he was waiting for—confirmation that Lioncrest was negotiating with Strictland to betray Ateez. He trusted what you overheard before tonight, as well, but he needed to know more, needed to be certain. “Others” could be anyone.

“The catch is that they're only being served by the VIP wait staff.”

He glanced over at you and his train of thought halted. “Which you are not.”

You nodded. “So. Is it worth it?”

An interesting question. Was it worth it to send you in? He fully understood the potential stakes, risks, and outcomes; you had watched and listened, as instructed, but now there came the decision as to charge forward or pull back. If it was any other person under his employ, he would have urged you to do whatever you could to get into that meeting.

This was important, yet half of him remained firmly in the court that disliked every detail of this. From planting you in Dionysus, to infiltrating a meeting between potential rivals—his stomach churned with the fervor of a storm at sea. But no matter how much his boat rocked, he couldn't simply dismiss this opportunity. You weren't just a liability, you were an asset. You took the vow, you were inducted, you agreed to this task.

He needed this; the family needed this.

(And he wondered where he'd last drawn his line in the sand. Why did he set you apart from the rest? He knew what you were capable of, just as he knew what his brothers were capable of. But this feeling needling at the back of his mind—it was different, and he could try to ignore it all he wanted. He had people to protect, a territory to rule, enemies to put down.)

He laced his fingers together as he leaned onto his forearms. “It’s worth it,” he said. “You haven't had much exposure to the higher rungs of the ladder, so this information could be crucial. How far out is the meeting?”

“I'm not too sure, but they're looking to replace someone currently on the wait staff lineup.”

He bit the inside of his cheek. That was only partially an ideal answer. “Alright, do whatever you can to get into that meeting.”

You scratched the back of your neck, teeth gleaming in a sheepish smile. “Which is why I mentioned a donation earlier.”

He paused, waiting for your answer.

“I know you're not a typical 'business,’ but I wanted to know if you would reimburse me for business-related purchases—”

Hongjoong's face fell sharply into a deadpan. “You've got to be shitting me.”

You threw your head back in a laugh, and there was a strange warmth that filled the room. Even the glow of the lamp in the corner seemed to gleam a brighter gold. It took much restraint to pull his lip muscles into obedience. “I thought it wouldn't hurt to ask.”

“So you're asking me for money?”

“It was an innocent question,” you insisted while raising your palms in surrender. “Someone, I dunno, suggested I buy a garter belt—”

If he was drinking something, he would have spit it out. “A garter belt.”

“You like to repeat things that are said a lot.”

Hongjoong's eyes narrowed, a crease forming between those eyes. “Excuse me?”

You tucked your knees up to your chest and crossed your ankles in a demure, little seating position. “It was just an observation,” you said. There was an impish glint in your eye tonight, and he wondered if this was what Seonghwa saw whenever Hongjoong did not listen to him. “But someone did suggest offhandedly I add a garter belt to the uniform, and maybe a different colored lip tint. It was just a joke—”

He pressed his face into his palm and used the other hand to make a dismissive gesture. “I'll foot the bill; buy whatever you want.”

“Really, I was kidding.”

“And I won't take no for an answer.” He closed his eyes for a brief moment and it was a flash of skin wrapped in a slim band of lace that was nudging him toward the edge of a cliff. With his fingers over his face, he opened his eyes to peer at you through the gaps between. “You're not gonna say no to me, are you, doll?”

Bourbon tasted like rich notes of vanilla and caramel and earth; but it felt like your smile. And it was fucking him up.

You cleared your throat, and he thought he saw your throat muscles contract in a swallow. “I guess I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth,” you murmured. “Anyways, uhm, I'm sorry for interrupting your work tonight. That's all I had to say.”

Hongjoong lifted his head up and raked his hand through his hair. It was getting longer these days. “No, no. It was no interruption and I didn't mind. I don't think I was getting anywhere productive with this tonight anyhow.”

You stood up then, stepping up to the table and working your way around it to peer at the documents. “What did you say these were again?”

“We brought them over from the old Strictland stronghold,” he replied over his shoulder. He turned himself around, knees turned toward you and tucked against the side of the table. He rifled through the documents mindlessly. “We found a line of connection between the Strictland leadership and the Diamond District, but when we followed that line…”

“Nothing?” You cocked a brow in surprise, but the slight frown emoted something different. You brushed your hair out of your face as you picked up the ledger book he had left on his seat. “You don't mind, do you?”

He gestured to you. “Be my guest,” he said. “That's Jung Joonseo's secret ledger. He was Lee Yunseok's second in command. Apparently, he had been stealing money from Strictland's coffers nearing the end of their reign.”

“Wow,” you muttered as you flipped through the pages with your brows creased. “Is this the reason for all the other documents? You're trying to match up the money to all of these entries.”

“That would be correct.”

Hongjoong leaned the side of his face against his palm to watch you. The dim light from the lamp was warm against your features, casting a shadow across half of your face that outlined the curve of your Cupid's bow and the length of your eyelashes. Some of your mascara had smudged under your bottom lashes, but that was only natural and they were only specks. Did you say you needed a new lip tint shade? A deep red would look damningly divine with your skin tone.

“Did you ever figure it out?”

His eyelids shuttered, his brain snapping into attention as if someone had just called Captain on deck. His body straightened. “Figure what out?”

You glanced up from the ledger and a lock of hair was falling over your forehead in a graceful curl. “The afternoon we did the ritual and I came back from the east corner, we were talking about putting pieces together, and you mentioned something about assassin guilds.”

“Oh.” Right. He had nearly forgotten about that part of the conversation. You had said that Strictland was toying with him, and while it struck a nerve, it also fired a neuron. If Strictland wanted him dead, then why not hire a real assassin, a privately contracted one from a guild like the Wings Express? It didn't make sense—unless Strictland didn't want the man they hired to succeed. They were counting on him being caught. It was all a game, and Hongjoong despised playing mouse.

He brushed a hand through his hair. “I'm pretty sure it's as you said: they're just toying with me. The guy they paid was a lucky shot, but they were counting on him being caught. Why?”

“What was the name of the guild you mentioned?”

“The Wings Express?”

You glanced back down at the ledger and pointed at something. “Do you think this could be it?”

Hongjoong's face contorted as he shot to his feet and rounded the table. He peered over your shoulder as you showed him the ledger. At the tip of your finger was an abbreviation: TWE, the date matching up to five days before Ateez's coup, and the amount deducted from his coffers a whopping $100,000.

He took the book from you and collapsed onto the edge of his armchair, a permanent kink in his brow, as he stared hard at that entry line. “I… could probably kiss you,” he blurted, still gawking at it in disbelief.

(He was going to kick himself for saying that in about an hour when he was stone-cold sober.)

You snorted, perching onto the arm of his chair. “Yeah alright, you're welcome,” you said. “Glad it might actually be something. The letter 'T’ was just a lot bolder than all the other letters on the page, so my eyes must've been drawn to it. Maybe he was hesitant about the transaction.”

“I would be,” Hongjoong said, thumbing his lip as he considered it. The Wings Express, huh? “100,000 is probably the down payment for a job.”

“Who do you think he was trying to have taken out? You?”

He shook his head. “If he wanted me gone, he likely would have gotten one of his own to kill me. I was an inconsequential subordinate to him at the time, even five days before the coup.”

You let out a hum. “You sure proved him wrong.”

He bit the edge of his nail, and couldn't help the slight curl of his lips into a smile. “Yeah.” He was paying for it now though, by whoever was under that fake hat and mask. “But 100,000 is pretty high for a down payment of any regular person. This would have to be a hit on a very prominent member of society, or someone heavily guarded. Someone like…”

“A mafia head?” you offered.

Hongjoong raised his head to meet your eyes, pointing at you in a vague gesture. It was like you read his mind. “Exactly.”

Your brows creased. “Interesting… I'm guessing it never happened though, because that's the last TWE entry.”

“Huh,” he muttered, flipping through the last couple of pages. The entries after this one seemed to hold the majority of the transfers from Strictland's coffers to Joonseo's. He must have felt that his time was running out and began taking as much money as he could get away with. But you were right—that was the only TWE entry there was. “He either must have backed out or his target was eliminated before the assassination was planned.”

“Here's a crazy idea,” you piped up. “What if it was Lee Yunseok?”

A line in Hongjoong's spine pulled taut. His mind wandered in the direction you pointed. What if Jung Joonseo planned to murder Lee Yunseok before he could find out about his betrayal? What if Joonseo planned to take over Strictland before Hongjoong checked the king? It made an awful lot of sense—with Yunseok dead, Joonseo was next in command.

If Joonseo underestimated Hongjoong, then Hongjoong certainly underestimated Joonseo, too.

“No? Stupid idea?”

“No, no” —he waved his hand to stop you— “not a stupid idea. That's a good thread to follow, Yn.”

You nodded. “It makes sense, doesn't it?”

He shared a look with you. “It does.”

But it only begged the question: what did any of this have to do with his situation now? There was that sinking feeling in his gut again, one that swirled with the rip current of dread, and it could only be quelled by answering yet another question. And this one was arguably worse.

Where was Jung Joonseo now?

a/n: pls reblog if you enjoyed!

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emotionallyanaemic · 19 days ago

Text

BIRDS OF PREY — ten

nonidol!kim hongjoong x f!reader

▷ genre, warnings. nc-17, strangers 2 lovers, slow burn, mafia au, angst, swearing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of an injury, mentions of money laundering

▷ word count. 6.0k

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a/n: what was that line from matz? "wash it away, oh, make it rain now" or something... 🧐

CHAPTER TEN: A CONFIDENCE GAME

“WHAT DO YOU THINK the rain is washing away?”

You and Sakura glanced up from her monitor screens over to where Yang Jungwon lingered by the window, peering out at the rain drumming against the pane. “What do you mean?” you asked, standing up to join him in looking outside.

The lookout made a small humming noise, a dimple pressing into the side of his cheek as he did so. “It’s just that, y'know, rain is supposed to wash away the old and bring in the new,” he said, folding his arms over his chest with a shrug. “Wonder what the old would be.”

“Hopefully it's Strictland and the Lioncrest Society, if we're lucky,” Sakura murmured. Her fingers ran over her keyboard, creating nice, light clicking sounds.

“Then maybe we could think of this as a good sign,” you said, but as soon as the words came out of your mouth, all three of you found something wooden to knock on thrice.

A small chuckle filled Sakura's studio apartment and you exchanged amused glances with one another.

Four days ago, you were tasked with infiltrating Dionysus, a club owned and run by the Lioncrest Society, a gang that dominated much of the east corner going south toward Sector 2. Two days ago, you and Sakura officially met Yang Jungwon, the lookout under Seonghwa's tutelage. Between that time and now, pieces had been moved into place and you were invited to interview at Dionysus tomorrow at noon—today was Friday.

“Don't you have somewhere to be soon, Yn?” Sakura piped up as she turned toward you.

You peeked over at one of her monitor screens and your eyes almost fell out of your head. “Shit, you're right,” you swore. Ryujin was going to murder you.

“Oh.” Jungwon perked up. “That gala thing tonight, right? I can drive you to your apartment.”

You hustled over to the kitchen counter to grab your bag. “Thanks,” you said. “We'll see you tomorrow, Kkura.”

Sakura lifted a hand to wave. “Yeah. See ya!”

You and Jungwon left Sakura to her own devices, scurrying down the dark and winding stairway to reach the bottom. Though Seonghwa himself was a rather imposing figure, Jungwon was just the opposite—cat-like in nature, unassuming and extremely underestimated. He was intelligent and adept at his role, being an informant and “lookout” for his handler. The three of you were more alike than you originally thought and got along pleasantly well. Agreeing on strategies and emergency protocols were easy with Jungwon's and Sakura's combined experience, expertise, and skills.

Jungwon pushed open the door at the foot of the staircase out into the next-door alley, glancing at you from over his shoulder. “You'll have to let me know what rich-people champagne tastes like tomorrow,” he teased.

You let out a dry laugh. “Hah. Expensive or not, champagne is so ass, dude. Once I get this job, it'll be a glass on the house.”

“I'll hold you to it!”

Rain spattered across your faces in fat globs, and there was so much of it falling into your eyes that you almost thought you were seeing a mirage. There was a car running idly in the alley you and Jungwon emerged into, their windows tinted black, but the passenger's side rolled down as soon as you and Jungwon were in sight.

Jungwon was quicker to the draw than you, spine straightening. “Psst,” he muttered. “Captain on deck.”

So you weren't hallucinating.

You squinted through the heavy rainfall and were certain you didn't hallucinate Hongjoong making a slicing motion across his neck. Not here.

You nudged Jungwon with your elbow. “Not the place.”

His wide eyes shuttered as rain fell listlessly into them. “Oh, you're right,” he said, falling into a more relaxed, but still alert, posture.

Jongho was seated in the passenger side seat of the sedan, quietly watching the surroundings, as well as you and Jungwon.

“Hongjoong?” You stepped up to the window, holding a hand over your eyes as you furiously blinked rain out of them. “What're you doing here?”

Hongjoong leaned toward Jongho's side of the car. “Well, Jongho was bored—”

The man in question sent his superior an atrocious side eye, before that expression disappeared into his typical blank face. Though, you were sure it was a deadpan hiding in plain sight.

“—so we're here to check on how things are going over here.”

“We just finished, sir,” Jungwon piped up and stepped beside you. “I was going to drive Yn home for her event tonight.”

Hongjoong's brows creased together in mild interest, and you shot Jungwon a look. “An event?”

“It's nothing—my friend invited me out to this charity thing for her work,” you said airily, flicking your wrist in nonchalance. “But we do need to get going or I'm going to be late.”

“We'll drop you off.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the car chirped in response, the back door unlocking.

You and Jungwon exchanged a glance. All your counterpart could do was shrug and wish you a good night. There wasn't any reasonable refusal you or Jungwon could make, especially with the head of the family.

The leather of the back seat squeaked as your rain-drenched form slid into the car.

Jungwon waved to you from outside the door and quickly ducked back into the dry shelter of the apartment complex. You shook off some of the rain on your jacket, skin, and hair, shoving your hands toward the front center console that now blasted hot air. The car was filled with the light notes of a woodsy moss, jasmine, and patchouli—nothing too intense, but rather a subtle caress for your senses.

“You didn't have to come check up on us,” you said finally once you settled in. “Or drive me back. But thanks.”

Hongjoong gave a nod from the driver's seat, meeting your eyes briefly in the rearview mirror. “We were in the neighborhood.”

Jongho coughed, and you saw Hongjoong's head turn toward his copilot, but did not see his expression.

This was the first time you'd seen Hongjoong or any of his commanders in a couple days. You all agreed it would be better to minimize being seen together while you were on this task, which fueled your incredulity that he had even appeared at Sakura's apartment. There wasn't any real reason for him to be here, but you supposed he could be anxious about sending fresh meat like yourself to perform a highly crucial task.

You scratched the back of your neck and lifted your hand to wipe away the errant droplet of rain running down your forehead. “How's your injury, by the way?” you piped up. It had only been about a week since, but you hoped it wasn't bothering him too much. How much did bullet grazes like his hurt?

Hongjoong's eyes found yours again. “I'll manage,” he replied. “I've gotten more used to it.”

“More like Seonghwa hyung doesn't let him do anything physical besides walking,” Jongho muttered with a small snicker.

You snorted. Seonghwa's stare from that fateful night penetrated the back of your mind, and Hongjoong's words to you—you’re beginning to sound a lot like Seonghwa—echoed in your ears. You wondered how everyone else was doing. There was certainly a part of you that missed working at the Shipwreck despite the brief amount of time you were there. “Better to recover faster than to drag it out,” you said.

“Exactly.”

Hongjoong let out a sigh.

It wasn't too long afterwards that Hongjoong slid the sedan into an empty space along the curb across from your building. Rain continued to beat down against the car's windows and metal frame, and you mentally braced yourself to make a mad dash for the entrance.

“Sorry I couldn't get you closer,” Hongjoong murmured, half peering out at the weather and the other addressing you in the back.

You yanked up your hood and hugged your bag to your chest. “No worries. Thanks again for taking me back.”

“Sure,” he said. He glanced back at you, and for a flicker, there was that man you were used to, the one who didn't run one of the big five criminal families. There was the ghost of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “Have a good night. Enjoy the gala.”

“No promises,” you said and shoved the car door open.

Within two breaths, the door slammed shut behind you, and your watery, blurry figure disappeared out into the rainstorm. Hongjoong and Jongho remained in that spot for a minute after they were sure you had made it into the apartment complex.

Jongho absentmindedly turned an empty shell casing around between his fingers, his gaze far off into the downpour. “I'm surprised you didn't ask more about the event, hyung.”

A short huff fell from Hongjoong's mouth, a scoff. He began to pull the car away from the curb to make the journey back to Hala Town. “Why would I do a silly thing like that?”

Jongho sent him a look that told him all that he intended to communicate, but the truth was, even if Hongjoong wanted to know who was hosting and where you'd be, he couldn't be there anyway. There was plenty of business that needed attending to tonight.

Lim & Wang Investments was a run-of-the-mill, cookie cutter corporate machine located downtown. Like many of its steel and glass-plated neighbors, its crisp edges scraped the dark gray sky, towering above all the rest in an attempt to out-skyscrape its peers. You had only been to their headquarters building at the southern edge of Sector 1 a few times, and it was usually to accompany Ryujin to an event or see her off. You didn't see this building often, but that was because it was in the complete opposite direction to where you used to work on Fifth. (Not that you were complaining. How Ryujin could stand working as a secretary here of all places was beside you.)

The ballroom on floor fifty-one overlooked the drowning city far below. Rain pummeled the floor-to-ceiling windows even from this height, but at least someone had the bright idea to light this vast room with warm-toned lights. It at least gave the illusion of warmth.

You lingered at a standing table off to the side, nursing a barely-touched flute of champagne while Ryujin's work laugh became ingrained in your ear drums. Your cheeks already hurt from the polite smiles you shot men in sharp suits, every introduction flying over your head faster than one could say Yo-ho, yo-ho, a pirate's life for me—

“Save me.” Ryujin barely stopped herself from falling flat against the table. The man she was just speaking to disappeared into the crowd, far out of earshot or range of witnessing the gravitational force exhibited on the corners of her mouth. “I want to die.”

You patted the back of her head in an attempt to soothe her. “Maybe I can sneak into the kitchen and find us a bottle of tequila.”

“Please,” she groaned and lifted her head so she could rub her temples with the points of her fingers.

“You're getting a bonus soon though, aren't you?”

She took her own flute of champagne and dumped it down her throat with a grimace. “Yeah,” she said, nodding her head. “I hope. I don't know. Supposedly, my boss is giving out bonuses for the quarterly reports this time around, but we'll see.”

You pursed your lips together and gave her arm a light squeeze. “You've worked hard; you'll get one. You deserve one.”

Ryujin shot you a small smile. “Thanks,” she murmured. “And thanks for coming. Sorry you have to go through this with me. The guy who was supposed to be here—I haven't even seen him, but he usually keeps his word.”

“Usually,” you mused.

“All men do is lie,” she replied airily. “I don't wanna be that kinda gal, but he did seem a little better behaved than all the rest.”

You leaned onto the table with your forearms, curiosity peeking through at the mention of the reason why Ryujin brought you here in the first place. “Is he another stockbroker?”

She shook her head, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. “No, he's a client or something. I've seen him around the office and he certainly doesn't work here.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “A client? I was under the impression he was our age.”

“Oh, he definitely is.”

Double wow. Double rough. He had to come from money then, or maybe he was connected with an officer within the company.

You and Ryujin exchanged musings about a couple more things, excluding this mystery man, before she was called away by her boss. You settled at the table by your lonesome, happy with your half-empty glass of shitty champagne (that likely cost more than your rent) and shifting to watch the rest of the party. There were some partygoers who glanced your way, probably somewhat curious about the girl in the corner of the room whom nobody recognized from work. You didn't look rich either, despite how nicely you cleaned up, so you didn't come off as a wealthy investor, here to donate to charity.

A small smile bloomed on your lips at the thought and you swirled your glass around idly. Imagine that: you as a wealthy heiress with money to spend and invest. Truly something of another reality. Did Hongjoong have enough money to pose as a wealthy investor? He had to, right?

“Is this space taken?”

You perked up at the sound of a new voice sidling up beside you. You fully braced yourself for a Finance Bro to appear, but startled at the sight of a silver Rolex, dimples in his smile, and a left eyebrow pierced by twin silver studs. Definitely not a Finance Bro.

You shook your head, gesturing to the empty space where Ryujin had just been. “Oh, no. Go ahead.”

The newcomer didn't breach your personal space as he occupied part of the table. A waiter came by to deliver him a short glass of auburn-colored liquid, and your eyes couldn't help but follow it.

He chuckled at your expression, tipping it towards you. “You look like you've seen a unicorn or something,” he jested. “It's just bourbon.”

“Oh, I know,” you replied and blinked out of your slight stupor. “I just… didn't realize they had any.” Incredulous, you drained your champagne flute and pretended it was the rich, caramel notes of your counterpart's beverage.

“Trust me, they definitely do.” He shook his head, lifting the glass up to his lips for a sip. “You need something strong and decadent to get you through these things.”

You turned your gaze toward him again. “You're telling me this function isn't the highlight of your young adult life?”

He giggled at your sarcasm—giggled. It was a giddy, albeit charming sound. “Apologies, you're completely right. I should be flashing my profile around and networking” —he shook his head, dunking the bourbon back— “nah. I'm not one of them, actually.”

“Is that right? Then who are you?”

“Well, I've got the money,” he replied with a shrug. “They need to lure deep pockets to fill their own coffers now, don't they?”

You scrutinized the man standing beside you again. The subtle details screamed wealth, with the jewelry and touches of metal, the crisp silky suit, the posture. Though, he wore his dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar so unlike the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed investment stockbrokers with sharp ties and closed collars. His appearance was wealthy but also casual, something fresh off the yacht. In a way, it was beginning to make sense, but he couldn't have been that much older than yourself either.

Then the details clicked.

You tapped your finger against your bottom lip. “Tell me you know Shin Ryujin.”

He grinned, those dimples digging into the apples of his cheeks. “I do, indeed.” The man extended a hand out to you. “Bang Chan.”

You took his hand in a firm handshake, exchanging his name with yours.

“Well, it's good to meet a friend of Ryujin's,” Chan chirped. “She was bragging all about you the other day, if I recall.”

It seemed you had been talked about a lot these days, but at least you got your answer. “Ah, right. You're the reason she baked me raspberry scones to convince me to come with her tonight.”

His brows lifted, a cheeky expression. “Raspberry scones,” he gasped. “I didn't know she could bake.”

“Use that knowledge how you will,” you shrugged with a small smile. “So where's your other half? I mean, Ryujin mentioned you'd be bringing a friend, too.”

Chan raised his head, his eyes surveying the crowd. “I definitely came with one,” he mused. His gaze swept past faces at a nonchalant pace, and his mouth bloomed with another easy smile when he found who he was looking for. “Ah, there she is.”

He leaned toward you slightly so you could match his perspective, and you followed where he pointed toward.

There was a young woman with the grace of a feline introducing herself to Ryujin. Her hair was silky and inky as the night sky, body clad in an elegant stream of black silk. Even from here, you could feel that magnetism radiate and draw you in; you wondered what it felt like to stand next to her like Ryujin was.

“That's Yeji,” you heard Chan say beside you before he downed the remainder of his bourbon.

You blinked. “She's gorgeous,” you admitted. “You sure she's not just a friend?”

He sent you a cheeky look. “Nah, we're practically siblings. Her brother would murder me anyway.”

“Understandably,” you murmured. Your gaze turned back toward your friend and Chan's friend. There were plenty of wandering eyes that chose to walk themselves over to the pair of ladies, but Yeji and Ryujin seemed to be in their own world. And if you weren't mistaken, you realized with a sly smile, that was blush tinting the tips of her ears—

“So what do you do, Yn?”

You perked up, glancing over at Chan who leaned his forearms on the table, cheek pressed against his hand. “Oh, you mean for a living?”

He made a vague gesture. “Yeah, sure. For a living, for fun.”

Blood rushed to the back of your neck as you thought about the question. You were in a room full of people likely making six figures each, even the ones fresh out of college—in fact, the man you were speaking to must have had a net worth with a scary amount of zeroes. And who were you? A waitress at a bar, recently inducted into and working for a criminal organization. You weren't even technically a spy yet.

“I work in the service industry,” you said, finally. Then you winced. “That didn't sound like how I wanted it to.”

You gave an awkward laugh, but Chan took that in stride. “No, I get it. Nothing to be ashamed about—”

“I'm a waitress,” you cut in. “Not whatever you were thinking.”

His grin was teasing. “I don't know what you're talking about. I was about to say waitressing,” he insisted. “But I mean, I'm sure it's hard work. People can be fuckin’ assholes, so you must have infinite patience or something. Takes a lot of guts to put up with people.”

You couldn't tell if it was supposed to be condescending; you were always used to people tiptoeing around the subject of your job when they found out you weren't trying to make it big or go to medical school or whatever other options people strived for. It was strange how living a little life could be so counter to the ideal. But maybe you weren't giving this guy enough credit—his words and attitude didn't seem to be patronizing.

“That's one way to put it,” you said with a chuckle. “I'm just in the progress of getting my degree, so one of these days you might see me running a joint rather than being run.”

Chan's eyebrows lifted in interest. “If you ever need an investor” —he gestured to himself— “I've got the pockets.”

You let out a laugh. “Sure, I'll give you a call or something.”

“Well, won't you need my number for that?”

Ah. There was that telltale stir in your gut that said I told you so! Perhaps you were thinking too much into this; he could just be asking as a hopeful friend. Either way, it wasn't like you disliked chatting with the guy. He was pleasant and… cute. A disarming amount of cute.

(Dimples—why did the guy have to have dimples?)

Well, his smile was cute, but it was almost too charming. It wasn't like Hongjoong's—

Now, wait a minute.

“Was that too much?” Chan's voice became sheepish, near bashful. “I thought I was being smooth about it, but if I made you uncomfortable in any way…”

You shook your head. “No, it's okay. I will admit,” you said, “it was pretty smooth.”

He bit his lip through a smile. “Hey, I mean, if you're not interested then that's cool, too.” He raised his head and hand to flag down a waiter. “Why don't I get us both a bit of bourbon?”

“I can't possibly say no to that.”

He flashed you another grin and let a waiter know that the two of you would like something from the kitchen. Chan called out a thanks as they left, and he opened his mouth to say something to you when a loud tune erupted from his jacket.

There was a flash of exasperation across his features as he slipped his phone out from the inside pocket of his blazer. His dimples dug into his cheeks as he checked the caller ID. “I'm so sorry, it's my boss. I have to take this.”

He had a boss? “I get it; it's all good.”

His expression was apologetic as he stepped aside and pressed the phone up to his ear.

You curiously stared after him, his back facing you. If he had a boss, that meant he had a job—so what did he do to make that much money? If he wasn't a stockbroker like eighty-five percent of the people present, then there were only so many other possibilities left.

You wiped away the deeply thoughtful crease in your forehead as Chan made his way back over to you. He seemed less than bothered by whatever his boss must have said to him. “Everything alright?” you asked.

Chan nodded, replacing his phone back into its pocket. “Yeah no, all good. Just a couple updates about a new, ah, merger.”

“Merger,” you parroted, leaning your chin onto your fist. “So what do you do for a living, Chan?”

He smiled. “This and that. We'll call it acquisitions. Really boring stuff, actually.”

“I'm sure it is,” you said. The metal studs in his brow glinted sharply in the light, and his smile never faltered.

To Hongjoong, petrichor—gritty, metallic, heady—smelled a lot like blood. With the troves of rain that had washed over the city recently, the streets were flooded with that viscous, nostalgic scent. They were veins and arteries, pulsing with the lifeblood of this place. And Hala Town was its heart.

It made for the perfect night to excavate the dead, or what should have been dead.

“I can hear the final nail in my coffin,” Yunho muttered as he cupped a hand around the shell of his ear. “You hear that? Bam! Here lies Jeong Yunho; cause of death: Park Seonghwa.”

Hongjoong didn't hold back a roll of his eyes as he tugged the dark beanie over his head. “If I knew you were gonna be a diva about this, then I would have brought Jongho.”

“Jongho would still give you an attitude, just in less words,” San chimed in, sticking his head between the two front seats of Hongjoong's car. “Arguably, his judgment would be worse.”

There was a pause, then Hongjoong nodded. “Yeah, and I did drag him out yesterday…” To see—no—check up on your progress.

“Don’t tell me you're getting attached now,” Yunho said, purposely deepening and flattening his voice to mimic Seonghwa's deadpan tone.

Hongjoong grunted. “We have work to do,” he said and shouldered his way out of the car.

His two accomplices for the night snickered as he left, then swiftly joined him out into the chilly winter night. Their breaths materialized before them in light puffs of air, illuminated only by the eerie glow of a nearby streetlight. While Hongjoong liked to call all of Hala Town his home, the center region would never not make his spine tingle with dread.

Central Hala Town was as occupied as the rest of it, but it was a far cry from their home along the wharf. There was a reason Hongjoong chose to pick up the base of operations and move it somewhere far away. This was where Strictland reigned through terror, and tonight, the mausoleum of that ill-begotten past would be pried open.

If anything might give them a hint as to who remained of Strictland now or where they could possibly be or what they were planning; it would certainly be the remains of their stronghold.

It was no wonder Seonghwa was yet again uninformed of Hongjoong's whereabouts and activities.

This street in particular used to be a hub of activity. It was lined with large, office-like buildings on either side; lots of windows, rooftops that nearly touched… but inside, they were completely hollow, carved out to become the throne and operating rooms of a despot. Residents of this particular Hala Town neighborhood became superstitious about this street—the land was watered with blood and chained with ghosts. The old shells of the Strictland stronghold remained just that, shells.

Hongjoong strode up to an entryway on the side with Yunho and San flanking him. In the cold, quiet night, a stray dog's howl echoed.

From his pocket, he withdrew the only key to unlock every newly installed padlock on every door and window to these buildings. It was shiny and silver, small, threaded through with a small chain.

The breath in his lungs froze for a moment as he inserted the key into the lock. The padlock gave way with a metallic schick.

“Have one of your men watch this door,” he muttered under his breath, tucking both the key and padlock into the depths of his jacket pocket.

Yunho lingered behind to send out a command, and Hongjoong and San took their first steps into a tomb.

This building was the northwestern-most along the lane. This floor was much like the others, empty, save for the occasional pieces of furniture anchored into the floor or against the wall. All weapons and ammunition that could be of use to Ateez was taken; everything else was largely undisturbed.

Hongjoong stalked across the floor, ignoring the intense twisting sensation in his chest. He wasn't the only with memories here, but he was the highest officer amongst his inner circle. It was how he got so close to Lee Yunseok in the first place, and knew his movements, his face… Yunseok wasn't too keen on hiding his face from the public. He had money and power, and no one could touch him.

Even when Hongjoong became his judge, jury, and executioner, he only put a bullet between his eyes.

“Cap'n?”

Hongjoong reached the door on the furthest end of the floor. “Yes?”

“You haven't said anything,” said San.

He glanced back. Yunho had finished making his call, and the door behind him was shut. His counterparts made their way to him now, expressions set in careful neutrality, but he knew them too well for that.

“I'm fine,” Hongjoong replied, clearing his throat and unlocking the next door. “I just hate this place.”

“You're not alone,” Yunho murmured from behind him. His eyes wandered around the space as if seeing ghosts drift along the cement floors.

The three of them traversed the span of another building before climbing up a set of steel stairs. The rattle of metal echoed within the stairwell, their bodies spiraling up to the highest level. The topmost floors were reserved for high-ranking officials in the organization. Lee Yunseok himself had an office here, but it was largely just for show. He had a penthouse in an upscale building at the southernmost tip of the territory—it was essential that Hongjoong killed him on this soil, and not Sector soil, but Yunseok having shelter so close to the border required some planning to draw him out.

Hongjoong's own office—well…

The three of them broke out onto the landing of the top floor. It was a ghost town of opened doors, cabinets and drawers left gaping open, the floors drenched in knick knacks and papers. When Ateez took over, many of these higher officials were either killed in battle or got away. It was usually the lower ranking soldiers who turned their Z's into A's.

“What should we be looking for, Captain?” Yunho asked as they hustled down the hall toward the office at the end of the hall. The unmarked door at the end was the headquarters for Lee Yunseok's second in command, a shrewd, meticulous man named Jung Joonseo. The man couldn't fire a gun to save his life, but if anything, Hongjoong could count on at least one dead man who could tell a tale for him.

Hongjoong shoved the door open. “We're looking for anything with names, dates, locations, and numbers. Something that could tie Strictland to living people or documents, any property and assets that remain in their name.”

The three of them tore through the desk and filing cabinets, each of them taking a box of files to pour over in one corner of the office.

This was something that should have been done long ago—something to flush out the rats hiding in the walls. But three years wasn't as long a time as one may think. There was a running list of things Hongjoong had yet to complete; by every measure possible, he was as fresh as they came. But he was made of steel.

His past mistakes could and would be resolved. He would keep his people safe, his family safe. There were those counting on him.

The minutes ticked by. Files were flipped through, vision strained.

Hongjoong devoured each document with greedy abandon, his eyes scanning and his mind recognizing the information presented. He could remember this—and none of it was helpful.

“We should call in reinforcements,” San murmured at last. Three hours had passed and it was swiftly reaching the early throes of morning.

Hongjoong put his fingers against his temples and rubbed them gently to ease the growing migraine. “No,” he responded groggily, “we can finish this. There can't be much left to go.”

Yunho and San exchanged glances. “Why don't we haul some of this stuff back home then?”

“No.” He shook his head, then closed his eyes as he rolled the kinks out of his neck. “No, we can't leave without a lead. Seonghwa will actually kill me.”

An amused snort. “Since when have you ever listened to Seonghwa hyung?” San chuckled.

“Only when he gets slightly homicidal.”

“Touché.”

That was enough to boost morale for the next bout of searching. Hongjoong continued to rack his brain for what he could be missing. When Ateez took over, there were plenty of properties and assets that they claimed from Strictland ownership. All of the useful ones, at least. As well-prepared as most touted him for being, Hongjoong didn't have a plan for all the rest; he only took the ones he wanted.

He expected a paper trail or clues… But this was the dead he was talking about. He was digging up ghosts, and ghosts didn't leave trails. People saw them, but they could never explain their existence.

From his pocket, he felt his phone vibrate with an incoming notification. He pulled it out, the screen illuminating his face.

you: got the job

The corner of his mouth pulled upward. Never doubted you, he texted back. He had half the mind to ask you how yesterday's gala went, but stopped himself.

As he shut his phone off and tucked it away, the distinct feeling of eyes made him glance up. Yunho and San wagged their brows at him expectantly; everything they wanted to say had been said.

Hongjoong sent them a look, and they all resumed their work.

The box he had in his lap was a mishmash of assorted documents, ranging from electricity bills for this building to spam mail from local accountant agencies. Perhaps this was a dead end, even if he didn't want to admit it.

When he reached the bottom, there was only one document left. He picked it up with a sigh, eyebrows scrunching together as he skimmed over it—there were numbers. There were numbers, dollar signs, and an address that wasn't in Hala Town.

His heart rate picked up into a gallop. “What was the address for the Kidult Company?”

Yunho was quick to the draw. “Somewhere on 32nd Avenue, Sector 3—why? What did you find?”

Hope, that cruel thing, curled into his stomach. There it was on the document: 1724 32nd Avenue, Sector 3. This electricity bill was dated a little over three years ago, which meant Strictland used to own that building. When was it sold to the Chois?

“Can any of you find proof of a bill of sale for a property at 1724 32nd Avenue—”

Thunk! “Ow!”

Hongjoong and Yunho's attention whipped over to the desk. San emerged from beneath it, furiously rubbing the back of his head where he had collided with the underside of the table.

He hissed. “God, I fucking hate this office,” he muttered, eyes drifting down into the shadows he had crawled out from. His movements slowed, and his head cocked to the side. “Anyone got a set of lock picks?”

The other two scrambled over to San's position, knocking over stacks of papers and boxes on their way. There, hidden within the darkness beneath Jung Joonseo's desk, was a silver keyhole embedded into the wood backing. Hongjoong fished around in the inner lining of his coat and handed over a slim package.

San picked the lock, the metal scraping around the insides of the mechanism with careful precision. When they heard that telltale click sound, he withdrew.

A panel of the desk backing drifted open; it was a hidden safe.

Giddy as a trio of school boys, they dove in. There were some fake passports and identification cards—all of the identities were useless now—cash, and a small journal.

The journal, however, became something far more valuable when it was opened. Hongjoong recognized Jung Joonseo's scrawl on the pages in the same color of ink, type of pen, and line width. There were dates on one side, dollar amounts in the middle, abbreviations and phrases on the far side.

It was a personal ledger.

“Why in all Hell would Jung keep his personal shit here of all places?” San wondered aloud. “What do these phrases even mean?”

“It must be related to the work he did here then,” Yunho suggested. “But then why wouldn't he put it in his billion other ledger books?”

Hongjoong began to slowly flip through the book in search of dates around three years ago. “Because it was all off-book. He didn't want anybody, not even Lee Yunseok, to know what was happening.”

As he got closer and closer to the end of Strictland's reign, the plus signs and dollar amounts kept growing. A thought pricked at the back of his brain as he scrutinized the pattern.

He paused, glancing up from the ledger. His eyebrows lifted as if he was almost impressed with Jung Joonseo. “He was stealing money from Strictland right under everyone's noses.”

a/n: who can you trust in this biz?

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series taglist: @starriniqhts @hon3ysun @wooyouz @emotionallyanaemic @queenofdumbfuckery @ateezswonderland @angeleyes127 @sophie-mae-rose @asweetblueberry2 @miniverse-zen

#i am so sorry but i forgot everything i had to say about this chapter #as soon as hongjoong said ‘never doubted you’#that sounds like a wedding vow to me sir #anyways BANG CHAN.#ateez x reader #kim hongjoong x reader #ateez series #ateez mafia au

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emotionallyanaemic · 1 month ago

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👀👀👀 making out with Yunho? - 🐍

...kay I experienced something life changing last night. going bonkers.

yunho is soooo slow make out. soooo talking turned to murmurs turned to soft kisses turned to making out. I think comfort is really big with him. it always feels a little more natural and not... planned? expected? just like ... something that happens!

and ugh just... laying on your side facing him, his hands in your hair, yours on his face. he slides his leg between yours and pushes you closer to him by a hand on your back. the same time he licks at your bottom lip he also shifts his leg, and you feel the beginning of actual, red-hot want -- and it's all so intentional with him, he knows exactly what to do and how to get you where he wants you. he doesn't move your hips for you and without even saying anything he tells you to anyways, and when it effectively turns into borderline dry humping... mmmph.

and it would just be soooo slow. sensual. long kisses with the perfect amount of pressure, wandering hands (there's no way he isn't trying to touch all of you, everywhere, all at once), the sweet tang of the candy he was eating earlier melting on your tongue. and it's a slow transition from your lips to your neck, like he's trying to map out your features with his lips and tongue -- moving from your lips to the corner of your mouth to your chin to your jaw... and yunhos not too big on hickeys, but if you gasp and writhe enough for him he might just have to. can't let the world forget someone as precious as you is already off the table.

anyways. i've said it before but making out with yunho rarely DOESNT lead to sex -- part of that intention i was talking about. he can be mean and quick, but he knows how to get you really needy for him.

#okay well #I CANT DO THIS #this made me feel things #very accurate i feel #ateez x reader #yunho x reader #ateez imagines

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emotionallyanaemic · 1 month ago

Text

The Leaders | Chapter XIV

"lies, control, rules, numb, hatred, emptiness."

masterlist

ot8!ateez x f!reader, mafia au

chapter warnings: drinking, smoking, illegal businesses, mentions of war/military, drugs, gangs and corruption, blood and executions yikes, anxiety, a cute lil menty b, SMUT (mdni!! fingering, unprotected sex (do NAWT do this), peak intimacy.

chapter wc: 14.8k

chapter synopsis: you introduce silver light as an analgesic by the name of sylunox at a television broadcast, creating a stir in public as they point fingers at their politicians for keeping this a secret. assemblyman wi agrees to play double agent and reveals a discovery about president lee that he aims to investigate. president lee announces 15 spies caught to be publicly executed at the eden square but you learn that they are innocent and attempt to save them. you fail and have no choice but to join hands with secretary park so you return to sector 1 to say your goodbyes. hongjoong comes to your place to make sure you are alright and the night takes an intimate turn.

prev chapter recap: tiffany tipped the navy as per president lee’s order in fear that he would expose her hala lineage and indict her of international crimes. hongjoong urges her to continue complying with the president on the condition that she inform them of his activities. hongjoong feels doubtful after the meeting but you make up with him and assure him to believe in himself. you meet secretary park and he asks you to come back and inherit his business. you inquire about the ring but he admits it is a secret he cannot reveal. you refuse to comply but sunghoon warns you that he will have his way. you confide in wendy who assures you that the crescents have your back and that she understands your circumstances. president lee makes a public announcement where he covers the dispatched troop as a ‘special forces operation’ to catch and punish spies. the crescents decide to make silver light public and hongjoong promotes you to a shareholder and the face of their pharmaceutical side. you have a deep, vulnerable conversation with him. the crescents release a news article which sheds light on the president’s suspicious involvement in strictland. this leads to an attack on you while you are driving with winter and the informant kids. while nobody gets injured, hongjoong rounds up all crew to remind them of their loyalties.

For someone who used to find refuge in the darkest shadows, you were at an odd place now with the brightest white lights shining on and almost blinding you. There was not a shadow in sight.

You blinked a few times to get your eyes adjusted to the studio lights, straightening your posture and smiling dutifully at the host of The Evening Show With Sunny. Sunny was a news anchor loved by the public and had her own talk show where she hosted and interviewed a wide range of people– from celebrities and politicians to business figures and soldiers.

Tonight, you were here as the head of the pharmaceutical line of The Crescent Company. It should have been Hongjoong sitting here tonight, you thought for the umpteenth time. Or Seonghwa. The two had done so much to have silver light launch as a medicinal drug. Or it could have been San or Yeosang who were risking their lives each day to get the product to be manufactured.

Instead, it was you. You had to remind yourself that you deserved to be here, like the Crescents affirmed again and again. You had every right to be here. You had done enough. You had earned this.

You are a Crescent. Your past or your lineage does not matter. All that matters is that you are one of us now.

Hongjoong knew just the right words to say before your official debut as a Crescent. Internally sighing, you looked towards where Wooyoung and San stood with the production team, tangled in the wires as they awkwardly looked around, looking so out of place. When Wooyoung noticed you watching them, he smiled and gave you a thumbs up, San following soon after.

You would be fine.

You were the face of the pharmaceutical line. You were going to make not one but several statements today, most of them political and controversial in nature. You were going to put on a brave front. You had one shot to show the world what The Crescent Company stood for.

“Are you ready?” Sunny asked as she settled down on the sofa seat across from you and you nodded, taking a deep breath. She went on in a mechanical tone to assure you that you would do fine, that she was going to follow the script and there would be no unexpected surprises. She probably assured every guest on her show in a similar manner.

The makeup artist approached you one last time, fixing your hair that was styled in a slick back, as well as dabbing at your forehead with a smile– there were surely beads of sweat on there. You fixed your pearl ring and rested your hands over the black pants of your velvet suit. Once in position, the director called a countdown and Sunny did her introductions of the show.

The first half, which was 15 minutes of introductions and background, passed by swiftly. You introduced the Crescent Company as mainly a manufacturing business, working with Pledis who were a private company that manufactured electronic components such as resistors, capacitors, transistors, and diodes among various other things. Their latest endeavour with Pledis was producing their own car components to keep up with the times, supplying mostly to local car companies.

Sunny then asked about the other side projects of the Crescent Company and you introduced the Crescent Bar as a place of comfort for the people of Sector 1. The bar was a spot where people came to drink after a tiring day of work, where men and women who served in the war came to share stories and comfort, where the elderly found company when they missed their family. Upon asking, you admitted that the Crescent Bar would like to expand their business, possibly in Edenary.

Finally, you introduced the pharmaceutical side of the business briefly before the advertisement break. You detailed their partnership with MX Pharmaceuticals which was an established and well-respected company, their gangster background long forgiven and forgotten. Sunny asked if the Crescents were just shareholders, and you finally announced that there was a drug that the Crescent Company was hoping to launch into the market.

As expected, during the 3 minute break, the producers of the show got several calls to stop the broadcast. However, a deal was already made with Mr. Ju Jihoon through his nephew Ju Seok Tae, and even the other co-owner of Eden News did not reserve the right to stop the broadcast as this was Mr. Ju’s domain.

San and Wooyoung were there to assure the staff that there would be no problems, no damage control for them. Everything would be okay– no one was going to get fired after today’s broadcast. They did not need to assume an intimidating stance to convince them, for their name was promise enough.

Sunny was probably used to such broadcasts, or she was an expert at remaining calm as the room switched from hushed murmurs to silence. The three minutes were up, and you both nodded at each other, aware that the next part of the broadcast would change everything.

“Hello, Eden. We’re back to The Evening Show with your favourite host, Sunny. Tonight, we’re interviewing a new face of The Crescent Company, Miss Luna, who introduced herself as the person in charge of the pharmaceutical line of the long-standing business company. The Crescent Company is a major shareholder of MX Pharmaceuticals and it looks like they have big plans for a new drug launch. Luna, would you introduce the drug to the viewers?”

You nodded and looked towards the camera, assuming confidence and starting.

“The medicinal drug that The Crescent Company is aiming to launch is called ‘Sylunox’. It is an opiate analgesic. We have collaborated with MX Pharmaceuticals to conduct research and created the final product, which is a 5mg tablet with 3.5% of its original ingredient. As with any other opioid drug, it has its side effects but with our drug, the side effects are very manageable.

“We’re ecstatic to finally launch it in the market and we hope that the medicine will be beneficial to both doctors and the patients. Our target is to collaborate with anaesthesia and medicine so we can administer the right amounts to patients undergoing surgeries or amputations”

“Could you give us a little background on how this analgesic was brought to life?” Sunny asked.

You nodded. “The Crescents actually accidentally discovered the main component of this analgesic, the opioid drug, during the war. It is called… silver light. As the public is aware, Park Seonghwa of the Crescent Company served as a medic for a short while during the early years of the Battle of the Eight Hills. One of the soldiers in his group discovered the drug by accident, placed among the last medical reserves. There was only a small batch and it was labelled opium, so the drug was used to numb the pain for the soldiers who were in extreme pain due to amputations or organ damage.

“Park Seonghwa noticed that the drug worked far better than the rest of the opiate analgesics in the medical supplies. After confronting his superior, he discovered that silver light was actually not meant to be used as an analgesic at all.”

“Did it have some other beneficial properties then?” Sunny inquired.

“Not at all,” you smiled wryly. “Silver light was discovered by accident. It was never meant to be used by the patients.”

“Then why was it in the medical supplies?”

“We don’t know that,” you said. “All we know is that the soldier who discovered the drug was mysteriously shot to death. Park Seonghwa almost shared the same fate, but because of his military connections, he was transferred to the frontlines as a sniper– a death sentence, if you must. The only reason I’m here tonight is because Park Seonghwa was clever enough to keep a small batch for himself to investigate. With Kim Hongjoong, the boss of The Crescent Company, he traced the drug and found that silver light was something of a pleasure drug for the higher-ups, the elites of Eden.”

Sunny let that statement hang in the air for a few calculative moments before saying, “You’re implying that a beneficial analgesic was being reserved by the upper class of Eden.”

“I’m claiming that this is the case,” you corrected. “Silver light is a sort of currency among the elites, so you can imagine the damage our analgesic will create when launched to the market, accessible to the common man. We’ve faced a lot of obstacles and attempts to stop us, and it’s been a long journey, but it’s time that we let the world know that we care.”

You turned towards the camera, glancing at Wooyoung and San who stood next to it, sharing a subtle nod.

“No longer will The Crescent Company bow to the elites of Eden. We are citizens of Eden, just like everyone else. We are humans, above all. We care, and we hope this medicine launch is an example of our sincerity towards our people. We have suffered enough to make this project come to light, to make the best analgesic for our people so they do not have to go through the pain that we did. We are open to partnerships and we are hoping that by the end of next year, the year 1971, Sylunox will be available in every hospital to be administered by the doctors to the patients who are in pain.”

“That is quite a fierce statement,” Sunny said with a smile. “We will refrain from mentioning any names, but could you shed light on the extent of censoring that’s been done to keep you from announcing this analgesic publicly?”

“Rival companies, of course, which is understandable,” you offered. “A few other business companies. This project was top-secret until recently so it’s not that we had to watch our backs for unexpected moves. We were aware of who wished to stop us, and we were… attacked from the front, if I may.”

“Rival companies… that is interesting,” Sunny looked towards the camera. The first rival company that would come to the viewers’ minds would be Park Pharmaceuticals.

Park Pharmaceuticals, owned by Park Byung Eun, the presidential secretary to the current president of Eden.

“Were there any politically motivated moves made against your project?” Sunny asked.

“Aren’t all moves politically motivated?” You countered. Mr. Ju had instructed to keep as ambiguous as you could about the president’s involvement, so it was a fine line that you had to walk between hinting the involvement and downright exposing them.

“You’re not wrong,” Sunny chuckled lightheartedly. “The upper class of Eden mostly comprises politicians and business figures, and the two go hand in hand. I suppose it must have been quite a challenge to make your announcement tonight. We will wrap up our show now, and wish you the best of luck with your future endeavours.

“This was Miss Luna of The Crescent Company, head of the pharmaceutical business in partnership with MX Pharmaceuticals. The Evening Show With Sunny wishes a good night to their viewers.”

You waited until the cameras turned off and a ‘cut’ boomed through the room before reclining back to the seat in relief for a moment. You could distantly hear Sunny compliment you on doing a good job but all you could focus on was your heartbeat thumping between your ears and your limbs going limp as the adrenaline wore off. You heard familiar chuckles of your partners as they neared, and an assuring smack to your shoulder woke you right up.

“That hurt,” you pouted at the assailant. Wooyoung just grinned cheekily.

“I did not know that you had a bossy charm to you, Miss ‘no longer will we bow to the elites of Eden’.”

“What can I say?” You shrugged, straightening and gathering your belongings. “Your Captain clearly rubbed off on me.”

“You did amazing,” San assured with a pat on your back when you got up. “Let’s go home.”

It didn’t take too long for the news to blow up after that broadcast. Every newspaper company and every channel was talking about The Crescent Company and their daring claims about the upper class of Eden. Naturally, the public started to question the politicians and the assemblymen running for the 1971 elections.

That meant that President Lee was under scrutiny as well. The people, especially the supporters of his political party that was essentially birthed from President Han’s party, were starting to worry if their beloved president had beguiled them all with an innocent facade, which wouldn’t be a first. Eden was known to have a history of questionable leaders. Some people went as far as to question the President’s motives behind creation of the hospital in Eden that was supposedly to honour his wife– was it just a front to hide his wrongdoings?

Secretary Park was dragged into the mud as well. The public claimed that if he was the owner of the leading pharmaceutical company of Eden, there was little chance that he was unaware of the existence of silver light. Many pointed their fingers at him openly and you were sure his business was suffering a great deal.

Assemblyman General Wi and Assemblyman Kim were no exceptions, though Assemblyman Wi was at the shorter end of the stick considering his ties with the military and his questionable political career. Assemblyman Kim didn’t receive much backlash since his supporters were a far smaller number than the other two and he had a good reputation.

Assemblyman Kim was sent a message by you through the Sirens– now was the time to make his move and rise in rankings. For once, the Assemblyman didn’t disappoint and went on to conduct campaigns and addresses, promising the people to provide them with the best healthcare services and demanding that the guilty parties come forth and step down from their positions.

Assemblyman Kim wasn’t the only person who took advantage of the situation, though. Inspector Gong, despite his qualms about reinvestigating President Han’s case, finally took the recent happenings as a sign that President Lee was distracted enough for him to call you and request a meeting with Secretary Oh Jungse, who was still in hiding after being exposed as a funder of the Crescents’ weapons channel.

The Crescents were rejecting any follow-up interviews or meetings regarding the whole matter. It just made everyone more anxious. Security was upped and arrangements were made to welcome anyone who wished to collaborate with the Crescents, whether as a partner or an investor.

Madame Tiffany had requested minimal contact, especially because your broadcast had established that she had decided to partner with the Crescents after all. Hongjoong was keeping tabs on President Lee and countering every move that was made to mark Tiffany as an international criminal, though the President was distracted and didn’t do much. He needed to come clean about his position regarding silver light, and you were sure he was busy with damage control instead. Silver light’s status as a currency for illegal dealings amongst the upper class of Eden– and other nations involved– was probably being questioned.

The wheels were set in motion. You were waiting for the enemy to make their move. However, they were too quiet, and too much quiet was never good. There was something sinister about the way that they settled in resignation, not following up on the Crescents’ claims in any sense whatsoever. The hush before the storm, whispered the winds.

It was why when your official shareholder status was celebrated in a gathering at the bar with an abundance of drinks and food, you consciously tried your best to enjoy that moment. You were aware that everyone was on edge and you were not alone in feeling troubled by the things that had been happening. The boys were trying to find happiness and comfort in moments like these, and you were not going to dampen the mood by letting your worries get the best of you.

You were allowed to celebrate, to steal these little moments and live, laugh and love, Seonghwa had said prior to the gathering. He smiled at you when he noticed you staring holes into your drink and squeezed your hand to get your attention.

“You okay, love?”

“I’m good,” you assured him. “It’s lovely to be here.”

“Right? It’s been a while,” the oldest of the Crescents looked proudly at the rest. Everyone was talking to everyone, their chatter and laughter overlapping. Someone’s cheek was kissed, someone earned a smack to their head. Things could almost pass as normal, so you pushed your worries away and leaned against Seonghwa, sharing a drink.

“Sorry to spoil the mood,” Seonghwa began, “But before I forget, General Wi has decided to play a double agent. He’ll cooperate with us as best as he can, though he won’t be able to do much.”

“That’s not spoiling the mood at all,” you looked at him, sharing a laugh. “It’s good to hear that we have people on our side now.”

“Yeah, I thought I’d smoothen the creases on your forehead,” Seonghwa commented and you smacked his arm, making him groan out loud.

That caught Wooyoung’s attention though. He smacked Seonghwa’s other arm and then leaned forwards, grinning at you. “Is the old man bothering you?”

“No,” you almost doubled over with laughter. “Kind of.”

“Hey!” Seonghwa pulled away, betrayed as Wooyoung struck again. Seonghwa pressed his palm against the back of Wooyoung’s neck, muttering threats into his ears that had him surrendering right away. You watched the encounter with amusement.

“Is the old man bothering you?” You asked Wooyoung. Before he could say yes, Seonghwa started to lament about the betrayal, the light banter continuing even after Wooyoung left, even when you joined Seonghwa for the remainder of the night.

Yet another trip to Edenary was made with Jongho accompanying you this time. General Wi seemed to have some information to share and he wanted it to be in person. Hongjoong suspected that the Assemblyman was going to try and make his own deal with the Crescents and secure protection from whatever threats the President had over his head.

You learned in the meeting with the Assemblyman that the President had not only threatened to ruin his career but had his soldiers stationed around his family’s house. Assemblyman Wi had a wife and a young daughter who resided in Sector 2, unaware that they were being watched. It was an invasion of his privacy and though it wasn’t an unusual move, it still riled up the Assemblyman to no end.

“If he made verbal threats and forced my compliance, I would have stayed loyal to him,” Assemblyman Wi admitted. “I can’t stomach the fact that my wife and daughter are being watched all 24 hours of the day.”

“We can send our people to watch the soldiers that watch your family,” Jongho assured. “They will protect your family.”

“It’s too risky,” Assemblyman Wi looked conflicted.

“I’ve been watched most of my life too,” you revealed and the man shifted uncomfortably. “I know what it feels like to have your privacy invaded like that. Your family should stay ignorant about this matter, but they should be guarded nonetheless. How about having a guard reside with them instead? President Lee wouldn’t know their identity, they could pass as your cousin or acquaintance.”

Assemblyman Wi contemplated that for a few moments. “I’ll think about it and get back to you.”

“A woman can be arranged too, for your peace of mind,” you looked towards Winter and she nodded. “She makes good company and an even better guard. Your wife and daughter would get along well with her.”

“Thank you,” he smiled earnestly after a deep breath, finally willing to share whatever information he had so far.

The Assemblyman had made a visit to the Presidential Office a couple of times and he, ever the sharp-eyed general, noticed a few odd things about his office. There was always his wife’s photo in a frame present on the desk during his broadcast addresses. The frame was always obvious in the shots, just a glimpse of his wife to the public, enough to make their hearts full.

According to the Assemblyman, the frame was carelessly tossed inside the drawer of his desk. He wouldn’t have minded that it has been years since the passing of President Han, but what ticked him off was how he tried to hide the frame when he opened his drawer. Was it because he was ashamed, perhaps having moved on but still pretending to be deep in grief?

“I talked to my wife about this, you see,” Assemblyman Wi was sporting a lazy smile on his face as he traced the outline of his wine glass. “I asked her opinion on why he could have done that. It’s normal for men to move on after some time– even women do, though they tend to grieve more deeply. If moving on becomes shameful, it means there is something going on, right?”

You scrunched your face in confusion. Jongho hummed in thought. “Maybe he has found someone.”

“Why would he need to hide his wife’s photo? It’s not like I don’t know who she is,” the man grunted. “Besides, men tend to boast about having found someone, unless they can’t– but that’s not what this is about. I saw the way his hand shook when he struggled to hide it. So what did I do?”

“You went back,” you started to smile. “To take a good look at the frame.”

“And guess what I found?”

“Nothing?” You shrugged. “Did he cross out her face or something? I mean… we all know that he may or may not be involved in her passing.”

“Something better,” the Assemblyman grinned in the manner of a man who knew too much. “Another photo behind his wife’s. A photo of a baby, except… the baby looks older than the presumed time of death.”

“Holy smokes,” Jongho said and you both exchanged looks. “What age was the baby supposed to be? We are talking about his own baby with President Han, right?”

“Has to be that one, unless he has another from someone else, which would be as much of a surprise. I’m not sure, actually. The baby that we all know about was supposed to be a few months old when she passed away. A beautiful little girl, she was, I had the pleasure of seeing that little angel once in the hospital. The birth was tough on the mother and the child so they were both at the hospital for quite a while and eventually, the baby lost the battle.”

“Ah, yes,” you distantly recalled hearing about the reason the President wished to build a hospital– to honour his wife and late daughter. “So the baby passed a couple of months after her birth, right?”

“But the baby girl in the photo… had to be a year old, or more. Looked too much like the baby I remember.” The Assemblyman shivered involuntarily and Jongho folded his arms, thinking.

“I’m suspecting a baby from another woman. If it’s his baby, she might resemble the dead baby a lot. I mean… all babies look the same to me, I can’t lie.”

“That’s because you’re not a father,” Assemblyman Wi shook his head, disappointed with Jongho’s statement who simply muttered something about how he wasn’t entirely wrong. You had to agree with him. “Alright, yeah, they do look similar. It’s probably his child from another woman, but why hide it like this? He’s earned enough supporters to win the elections again even if people learn about his new family. They will only support him.”

“Yeah, it’s odd that he has to hide it. Maybe his woman has a controversial background or history,” Jongho suggested.

“And that is exactly what I’ll be looking into,” Assemblyman Wi concluded. “I might need your help on that. If you’re digging into the President, send some of your hounds sniffing this way.”

Another child. Was he leading a whole new life? You wondered for the rest of the night.

Did President Lee, the monster of a man, really have a weakness after all?

You were planning to leave the next day and were in the middle of packing your scattered luggage when a knock sounded and you opened the door to a stricken Jaehyun.

“You need to come with me.”

Your gut twisted with anxiety at the ashen face of the man and you nodded, following him to the living room, the sound from the television becoming coherent and you instantly knew that something was very, very wrong given that it was the President’s own voice addressing the public in a surprise broadcast.

“The first phase of our military operation has been a success. Through our intelligence, we have identified a number of spies– traitors to our nation who have been selling information to other nations. It is a shameful act, and will be regarded as such–”

“What is going on?” You asked out loud, meeting eyes with Winter who was as surprised as you for once, fidgeting with her fingers anxiously while seated on the sofa in front of the television.

“We don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m waiting to receive a message or orders, but this is unexpected.”

“President Lee might be acting on his own now,” Jaehyun said, folding his arms. “Especially considering how Eden Hall and even his own team is divided.”

Thanks to the Crescents, he didn’t need to add.

“We have contacted the military and as per our mutual understanding, there will be a public execution of these traitors at the Edenary Square at the 17th hour. The area will be heavily guarded but anyone of age who wishes to witness this historical moment is welcomed–”

“Luna!” Ten’s footsteps seemed to be as loud as his voice as he rushed up the stairs calling your name. “You have a message– you need to do something.”

There was more being said about how the public execution was going to be a display of warning to the traitors of this nation, to set an example and honour the methods of the Edenary Royals who were the founders of this nation, but the ringing in your ear was overpowering the President’s voice, and it felt like you could not make the words that left Ten’s mouth– was he speaking right now?

Winter gently shook you by the arm, bringing you back to your senses. Your mouth felt too dry to speak but you swallowed with some struggle, gathering your bearings. You could hear the distant bell of the phone and you shut your eyes, grounding yourself.

It will be okay.

It was not okay. You had just about a measly three hours to stop the public execution of 15 innocent lives.

The message you had received was from Ji Chang Wook, the head of the Sirens. His men were among the ones captured and taken for execution on grounds of treason– what treason? The only traitor to this nation was the President himself and his gang, and they were pulling this stunt as a political distraction to shift the people’s attention away from silver light, and more importantly–

Away from Strictland. There was a rumour that the first troop was going to be dispatched to Strictland in the next 24 hours. There would be no news coverage of the event, not a whisper to the public.

Everything was going to hell.

You only allowed yourself another moment of weakness before straightening your shoulders, Hongjoong’s voice in your head grounding you. We are the Leaders. You made a few phone calls to the Sector 1 office while you waited for Jongho to come back from his meeting. The Crescents were uneasy but they shared affirmations and reminded you that you were not alone. You were all in this together– not just the Crescents, but the Sirens were with you. Your other allies were with you.

You were not alone, yet you felt like a lone soldier marching to the battlefield on your own. Could you even win this battle, this war?

When Jongho arrived, he was accompanied by Assemblyman General Wi and you narrowed your eyes at the military man in suspicion. When he raised his hands in surrender, you realised that he looked as worried as the rest of you.

“I had no idea,” he admitted, slumping down on the sofa. “It seems like the President doesn’t trust me that much after all, despite our ‘partnership’.”

“He is wise not to, considering you’re here,” Winter commented, ever the objective person. When the Assemblyman shot her a glare, she only shrugged.

“You understand that we have to stop this execution. These are innocent people that the President is going to prosecute in the name of a distraction. Do you understand the gravity of the situation, Assemblyman?”

“As much as you, if not more,” he responded, fully alert and looking willing to do anything.

“President Kwon of Halaland seems to have gotten a whiff of the soldiers making their way to Strictland," Jongho explained. “Even though Major Sung is trying to keep things under wraps, the President is not a fool. He’ll probably request a meeting soon or retaliate.”

“We’re hoping for a meeting first,” Assemblyman Wi added. “The military… they’re divided now. Our Chief is clearly with President Lee and he won’t share what’s happening with anyone else. Top secret, he says.”

“If he learns that you’re here, you could get in trouble,” Jaehyun reminded the Assemblyman who shrugged knowingly.

“We have more pressing matters on hand,” he looked towards you. “Why does the head of the Sirens think you can put a stop to this execution? And why choose the Sirens as sacrificial lambs?”

A wave of cold washed over you as you were once again reminded of the message Mr. Ji sent. “I don’t know,” you admitted, looking helplessly towards Ten and Winter. “I just received a message without any context. If they think I can contact Secretary Park and convince him somehow, I’ll do that–”

“He’ll ask you to return to him,” Jongho shook his head. “You can’t do that.”

“But Jongho,” you called weakly. “We need to do something.”

“I have orders too,” Jongho retaliated. “From the Captain. Under no circumstances are you to offer yourself to save someone else. Even if it is us.”

Of course Hongjoong anticipated you would do exactly that.

“This is bigger than us,” you reasoned, clenching and unclenching your fists. “I need to do whatever I can. Mr. Ji is counting on us to stop the execution. The least we can do is try, Jongho. The Sirens were helping us, and it looks like President Lee is offended by that.”

Jongho looked distraught– he probably agreed with you, as did the rest, but everyone in the room was aware that Secretary Park wanted you to cut ties with the Crescents and join him. You were the sacrificial lamb now. The captured Sirens were just the bait.

You had an invisible noose around your neck. One wrong move and you would be executed with the rest.

“It’s not just because the Sirens were helping the Crescents,” Winter revealed, palpable hesitation lacing her voice. “Yes, the Sirens were initially banded to help President Han with her private investigation regarding her family, but she was also investigating the Strictland matter. Most of the members of Sirens are deserters from Strictland.”

“Deserters?” Assemblyman Wi repeated.

“A lot of people working in the Strictland nuclear base aren’t there by their own free will,” Winter said. “They are forced to sign confidentiality forms and they are threatened repeatedly. Those brave enough to run away find the Sirens, or other similar groups.”

“And why has none of them reported this to the higher-ups?” You inquired.

“Why do you think?” Winter scoffed. “The same reason President Lee will get away with the executions today. Justice is a far-fetched idea.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling lightheaded. Those people… they must have risked everything to find the Sirens if what Winter said was right.

“Let’s find loopholes,” Ten suggested, attempting to lighten the mood. “Is there anything we can use to stop Secretary Park, at least? Some dirt over the President? On him?”

“It wouldn’t work anymore,” Jaehyun said, shaking his head. “If President Kwon himself is aware of whatever President Lee is trying to pull, we have nothing left. We can’t make the Strictland Operation public– that would prompt Halaland to make a move against us to show their people that they are stable, unafraid and protective of their nation.”

“I’ll contact my people,” Winter said, grabbing her belongings to leave immediately. “Give me an hour. Ten, please make sure Luna doesn’t leave this building before I come back. However long it may take.”

“Winter–”

“That’s an order,” Winter was serious and you gave in. You could give her an hour, alright.

No more.

Assemblyman Wi looked confused but no one was going to tell him that she was one of the RV spies. Once Winter left, an air of tension settled in the room. You told Jongho that you would be in the office room and left the men to make plans among themselves.

You rang the Sector 1 office, hoping Hongjoong would not pick the receiver.

Your knees almost buckled with relief when someone else answered.

“Yunho,” you called and you heard him suck in his breath.

“Luna,” he almost whispered. “Are you alright?”

“I’m not. Do you understand what needs to be done?”

Silence.

“Hongjoong is going crazy over here, Luna,” Yunho said in a sombre tone. “He is sure there’s another motive to the President’s move, and it’s not a political one. It’s something personal.”

The President has his eyes on you.

“He won’t tell me why,” you stated almost mechanically. “Am I the bait to destroy the Crescents or am I the target itself?”

You heard Yunho shift through the receiver. He was probably deep in thought, trying to come up with a calculative response. The consigliere to Hongjoong.

“I’m allowing everyone an hour, Yunho,” you said assertively. “After the time is up, I’ll make my own decisions. Tell your Captain that.”

“Luna–”

“Tell me, Yunho,” you interrupted. “You’ve been in a similar position as me. You’ve had to make decisions for the greater good. Did you sacrifice your people or did you sacrifice yourself?”

Yunho was silent for a few moments before he answered, with immense effort. “I sacrificed myself.”

“Then you are aware of what I must do,” you smiled in defeat. “If Secretary Park is willing to stop this execution on the terms that I join him, or whatever the cost he may demand, I must pay it. It is only right that I do.”

“But you are not responsible for these lives,” Yunho reminded you.

“I know,” you agreed. “But if I don’t even try, I will be held responsible.”

“I won’t tell Hongjoong what you’re about to do, but Luna… remember to keep a level head. You said your father taught you not to play the game, but to win. Don’t play the game– just try to win.”

“Thank you, Yunho,” you said, finally sighing in relief.

“I love you,” he said and you smiled. Something started to weigh over your heart, crushing it slowly but surely.

“I love you,” he repeated. “Try to win. You can do this. But don’t be too hard on yourself. In case this doesn’t work out, don’t take it out on yourself, you hear me?”

“I do,” you told him, your eyes beginning to sting now.

“I love you,” he repeated like a mantra. “I wish I was there with you right now, Luna, I–”

“It’s okay, I know,” you assured him. “I have Jongho. I’m okay, Yunho, love, I’m okay,” you almost cried. “I love you too, Yunho. I’ll be back soon. Please… please make sure Hongjoong is okay. Will you do that for me?”

“Of course I will,” he sounded weary. “I’m hanging up– he’s here.”

He didn’t give you time to respond before the static of the phone replaced his voice. You wiped your eyes, your heart yearning for the men waiting for you back home.

When Jongho entered a few moments after, he put two and two together. “Who did you talk to?”

“Yunho,” you told him. “Hongjoong… is going to lose it when he learns what I plan to do,” you shook your head.

“Oh, dear,” Jongho closed the distance between the two of you and all but crushed you in a hug. You eased into his protective embrace and let him hold you until your heartbeat was somewhat steady.

“You’ve made up your mind,” he pulled back, searching your eyes for any signs of hesitation and finding none. “What are you going to do?”

“If there’s nothing else that can be done, I’m going to the Park Mansion,” you said, still in his arms. His embrace was the most protective, as if it could shield you from the world. “I’m going to hear him out. He will probably ask me to join him. I’ll have no choice.”

“You can’t do that,” Jongho shook his head. “Not after everything we’ve been through.”

“But that is the only thing I can do,” you smiled sadly. “Imagine if that stops the President from killing innocent people. Wouldn’t you do the same?”

“Why does it have to be you?” He asked. “I don’t understand.”

“I don’t either,” you sighed deeply, resting your forehead against his chest and feeling his steady heartbeat sync with the blood pumping in your head. “Hongjoong knows something, and he won’t tell me. He says he’ll tell me once he’s sure, but when is that? When I go back to my father?”

“He has his reasons,” Jongho said almost mechanically but then scoffed at his own statement. “I’m sure he has. Do you think you can stop this if you go to the Park Mansion?”

“That’s got to be it, right?” You looked up at the man– he was younger than you by a few months but looked as if he had lived more lives than you. You probably looked the same to him right now– spent and lost. “I don’t know what they want from me. I’m so tired of this– if Hongjoong or Winter don’t give me answers tonight, I’m going to be so, so mad, Jongho.”

“I understand,” Jongho squeezed your shoulders. “Just don’t forget that they’re trying to protect you in their own ways.”

You shot him a look– he had a point. Your eyes darted towards the clock but Jongho gently turned your face back towards him with the pad of his thumb.

“It’s going to be okay,” he assured. “I’m going to get you a drink. You look like you need it.”

“Geez, thanks,” you chuckled. “Twenty minutes, Jongho.”

“Whatever,” he said and moved towards the table to pour you both drinks. You appreciated his attempt to lighten the mood but no amount of drinks was going to help you.

Winter did not come back after the hour mark. It was twenty minutes above the hour mark when you finally broke the thick silence in the room and requested Ten to drive you to Park Mansion. The boys bought them another twenty minutes, debating whether Winter was stalling or was actually on to something. You all hoped that the latter was the case– she wasn’t the type to stall for no reason. If she wanted you under house arrest, she would guard the doors herself.

You allowed everyone ten more minutes before the stress started to eat at you, the sensation feeling like a physical gnaw. You were now worried about Winter too– just where was she? What was holding her back?

You could not afford to stall any further, whatever the case was. Deciding that you had to take the matter into your own hands, you rushed towards the phone and dialled Park Mansion, the residence number still on your fingertips even though you barely ever called. Your call was answered at the third attempt by none other than Sunghoon. You were feeling extremely queasy by then.

“I knew you would call,” he scoffed, but you almost thought his voice lacked the usual tinge of mockery.

“Where’s father?”

“Not home. Probably at Eden Square, making sure everything goes smoothly at his first public crime scene. He wouldn’t miss the processions to this historical moment, would he now?”

“Is there any way I can request a meeting with him?” You asked, your gut twisting with worry.

“Hardly,” Sunghoon replied. “Father anticipated this call. He asked me to forward the invitation. He will see you at Eden Square– you, and no one else. Not even your little guard.”

You cursed under your breath but Sunghoon was still on call. He did not hang up.

“What’s your plan, y/n?”

“I don’t have one,” you admitted. “I’m just… hoping that he stops this madness. Whatever the price, I’m willing to pay.”

“I can’t tell if this is brave of you or entirely stupid,” Sunghoon sighed audibly. “If you think he’ll stop this execution because you agree to his terms, you’re wrong, dear sister. Do you realise what you’re getting yourself into?”

“What do you care?” You countered, but you had an unsettling feeling that he was right.

“I don’t,” he confirmed. “I’m just reminding you.”

“Do you think Secretary Park… do you think father is bound to comply with President Lee? Or are they two peas in a pod?”

“What does it matter?” Sunghoon asked. “Even if he is forced to comply, it doesn’t change anything.”

He wasn’t wrong, but the truth still sounded bitter to you.

“I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you soon,” Sunghoon tsk-ed. “Say your goodbyes, sissy. Father plans to keep you close for a long, long time.”

“Do you know why?”

“I wish I did,” he admitted. “It doesn’t make sense. Why does he want you to come back after all this time? You have to admit it, I’m not that bad of a businessman. I can take over his business just fine.”

He wasn’t wrong. Secretary Park wanting you to come back to take over the business because he thought Sunghoon wasn’t reliable was just an excuse to conceal another motive. Did he think pulling you out from the Crescents would weaken them? That wasn’t the case– the Crescents were strong before you, and would continue to remain a formidable force in case you dipped out.

“There’s another reason and it’s staring right at our faces,” Sunghoon almost whispered. “I have a hunch, but it’s too mad, it doesn’t make sense. The dots are there, you just need to connect them.”

With that, Sunghoon hung up and you stared holes into the receiver. You did not have time to connect any dots right now– what you needed to do was get to Eden Square.

The familiar knock on your door had you sighing in relief when you spotted Winter. However, she looked grim. You joined her outside where Jongho was waiting. Ten and Jaehyun had left.

“The RV spies did not know anything prior to the President’s broadcast,” Winter confirmed and Jongho whistled.

“That’s got to be a first,” he said.

“We’re not all-knowing,” Winter responded but Jongho wasn’t buying it. As far as he knew, there was no wider spy network than the RV spies. The President must have found a way to make this happen without attracting their attention.

“I have orders to keep you from going to Eden Square,” Winter continued and you folded your arms in disappointment. “Whatever you have to do, you do from here. I’ll be your messenger.”

“You must know then, that Secretary Park wants me at Eden Square alone,” you said and Winter nodded. “I can stop this if I go. You need to let me go.”

Winter shook her head and you were about to burst when Jongho got up, diving between you two.

“Hold up, hold up,” he made sure to calm you as best as he could before turning to Winter. “Orders from who?”

“My boss, and… your boss,” Winter revealed and you scoffed loudly, looking at Jongho pointedly.

“Kim Hongjoong,” you shook your head. “He can’t put me under house arrest. I– he knows that I can stop this. We need to stop this, Winter. We’ll lose far more than those innocent lives if we let it happen without even trying. The Sirens– they trusted us, they trusted me to help them. I can’t let them down like this.”

Winter wiped her palms on her pants, looking as conflicted as Jongho. The two silently communicated with each other while you started to pace across the room, thumb wedged between your teeth as you tried to make sense of things.

You breathed in and out in calculated paces. Now was not the time to let your emotions get the better of you.

“Even if I don’t go now,” you started in a low, calm voice. “Secretary Park will pull another stunt. He wants me back, and he won’t stop until he gets what he wants, even if it means that I have to crawl back to him. You know that, Winter.”

“There is a chance that he will not stop the execution even if you go,” Jongho reminded you. “It’s President Lee who’s in charge. Secretary Park is just his lackey. It’s also the President who must want you back, whatever the reasons may be.”

“Why me?” You asked and Jongho’s heart ached at your distraught tone. “What did I do?”

“You’ve done nothing,” Winter approached you before Jongho could and took your hand, so uncharacteristic of the spy trained to stick to orders and not indulge in feelings. “It’s not your fault in any sense.”

“If I don’t go, it will weigh over my conscience and crush me,” you said, searching Winter’s eyes for any signs of agreement. You found nothing.

“If you go, it’s going to break you. Your life is going to change the moment you shake hands with Secretary Park. It won’t be like before when you pretended to be his niece. This time, he’s going to use you to get what he wants, and he’s a greedy man who wants too much. And… you’ll have to deal with President Lee. He is the root of all this evil.”

You looked towards Jongho, your hand still in Winter’s. “You understand why I have to go, don’t you?”

Jongho nodded. “Hongjoong’s going to kill me if I let you go.”

“He won’t,” you smiled briefly. “I’ll be back. I… I have a plan. I need you both to accompany me to Eden Square, we’ll talk in the car. There’s no time to spare.”

You were nineteen when you first witnessed the difference between life and death.

You imagined it would be slow, the life leaving a man’s body. You thought that you would be able to see the light in their eyes dim and be able to hear what they had to say for their last words on this earth. You imagined it to be like the poems you read that vividly described the one moment that separated life and death, as if it was longer than a measly second.

The first death you witnessed was a gunshot to the head. One moment the soldier was complaining about the food rations, and the next, his eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he slumped down near you. The difference between life and death was merely a drop of the pin, a shift in the air, you concluded. Subtle but irreversible.

However, you were about to learn that sudden, quick death was a gift, and the poets were not wrong. Death began the moment you realised it.

“You have to stop this madness,” you pleaded, your voice awfully small for someone who was so confident to come here. “What more do you want from me?”

The Eden Dome seemed to be weeping in your stead, its washed-out cerulean dome still damp from the rain last night. In front of the domed-building in the middle of Eden Square was the old fountain that was soon going to be covered in blood. The 15 victims wore masks that covered their eyes, but you did not need to look at their faces to understand that their death had begun. Even if they lived tonight, a part of them would be dying here.

Their limbs trembled as the guards rounded them around the fountain. They tried to huddle close for some semblance of comfort but they were divided with too much space in between. In their grey prison uniform, they could easily pass for criminals. The public who were filling in to witness this moment sure thought so, unaware that all 15 of them were wrongly accused of treason.

You were not sure if their mouths were taped, but you supposed they had nothing to say now anyway. Not a sound came from them. They seemed to be settling in resignation of their inevitable fate in their last moments.

“I don’t want anything from you,” Secretary Park shook his head, going closer to the railing of the roof. You were at the building in front of the Eden Dome and your view from here was damning. “You will come back to me because at the next procession, someone you personally know could be standing right there.”

“I will come back to you,” you promised.

The last rays of sun for the evening shone upon the victims in an almost ironic manner. The sun wasn’t warm enough to make its presence known to the blinded souls. It felt like a futile attempt to offer them some comfort.

“I will come back to you,” you joined Secretary Park at the edge of the roof. You watched him while he peered down at the scene unfolding in the square with a stoic face, watching the guards bark orders. “But you need to stop this first.”

Secretary Park gave you a look, beckoning you to come closer. From where you stood at the roof of one of the many buildings around Eden Square, your view was almost damning.

“You’re in no position to be making demands,” Secretary Park said. “It’s out of my hands, child.”

“Then why did you call me here?”

Secretary Park motioned towards the Eden Dome. At first, you didn’t get what point he was trying to make, but cold realisation washed over you.

“He’s watching from there, Lee Jinwook,” Secretary Park cocked his head almost in frustration. You observed him carefully– there was obvious resentment on his face, and for once he didn’t mask his disgust. “I called you here so that the President can see that you stand with me. That ring I gave you is your protection. You’re wearing it, right?”

You outstretched your left hand, the pearl sitting on your index finger.

“That ring is your protection, and you are mine,” Secretary Park said and you narrowed your eyes. “I need you close to me so that I can protect us both. So I can protect my family.”

“I was told that I’m protected either way, but… what do you mean that I am your protection?”

Secretary Park only smiled in response, in a manner that indicated that he had already given you too much. You followed his gaze towards the Eden Dome where you could see the faint figure of the President along with his guards, watching over the scene with binoculars in his hand–

Watching you.

The President signalled the soldiers down in the square and 15 of them started to take position in front of the 15 victims. A guard stood beside each, waiting for the signal so they could take their masks off.

“You’ve got to stop this, please,” you tried again. “What does President Lee want from us? From me?”

“I don’t know yet,” Secretary Park clenched his jaw. “I can’t stop this. I’m sorry, y/n. I wish I could but my hands are tied. If I stop this… we’ll lose the war.”

The guards saluted in eerie synchronisation and took off the masks of the 15. You looked at each and every one of them, memorising their faces. A man, middle-aged with a scar on his face. A young woman with eyes full of resentment. A boy who had to be no older than 19. Another man whose cheeks were hollowed and hair ashen. Another woman who looked lost–

It was the first time that your father ever apologised to you and you really looked at him. His eyes no longer had the mischievous twinkle. Instead, there were hollows under his eyes and his mouth drooped downwards. He looked as weary as you felt.

Even in this open space with the wind blowing your hair back, it was hard to breathe. Your lungs felt constricted and the lump in your throat threatened to take your voice with it forever. You clenched your hands into fists to manage the shaking but it didn’t work, so you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“I won’t forgive you for this,” you shut your eyes. Your statement did not sound as assertive as you meant it to be, but you could barely form the words anymore. Your mouth was running dry with each step the soldiers took towards the victims.

“You don’t have to,” he only shrugged. “One day, you will understand why everything had to be this way. “

“I hate you. We’re letting innocent people die,” you let out a dry sob. There were no tears left to cry. The victims did not deserve your tears. You could not save them. You had damned them.

“Close your eyes, y/n.”

You didn’t. You watched the soldiers point their guns simultaneously at the victims.

The victims closed their eyes for you.

It was one loud bang that encompassed the 15 bullets that simultaneously took 15 lives. The sound made you physically recoil as if it was you who had been shot, if the ache in your heart was any indication of that. You took one look at the crime scene– blood all over the old white fountain– before you stepped back and heaved, retching and choking on air.

Secretary Park watched you but did not offer any comfort. He simply stood examining the scene in front of him.

“Look at the mess we’ve made, y/n.”

You didn’t. You were on the ground, staring at your hands.

It was then that he bent down on one knee, meeting your eyes. Something like pity flashed over his face for just a moment. He clasped your hands with his and gently pressed them down until they were in your lap.

“The blood is not on your hands. It’s on my hands.”

You looked at him. There was still a gaping hollow in your heart, threatening to swallow you whole. Winter was right– something did break inside you, perhaps forever. Something probably died too, a slow death like none other.

Secretary Park looked behind you before turning his attention back to you. “It’s over. Come back home soon.”

With that, he got up and sauntered away as if it was the most natural thing to do. You remained on your knees, offering prayers for the dead. You did not apologise. You did not deserve their forgiveness.

“The blood is not on your hands, Luna.”

It was Jongho who said that, sinking down in front of you. “You could have stopped this, and you tried your best. You are not responsible for what happened after. Even the spies and some other people tried to stop this, but… it still happened.”

You knew that. You nodded, but that didn’t help the growing void in your soul.

“Look at me, Luna,” Jongho insisted and you did with immense effort. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know,” you told him. “Doesn’t help me feel any better.”

Jongho nodded in understanding, squeezing your hands. “Hongjoong was trying to find a loophole. It didn’t work. Mr. Ji tried his best too, but… they won.”

You looked towards the Eden Dome. The President was no longer there, but you could feel his silhouette still.

“I’m going to go back to Park Mansion soon,” you said, a bitter taste forming in your tongue. “I’m going to get the President good, and I’ll do it alone. I’ll make sure to ruin him. He has not won this war yet.”

Winter stood near you with her hands clasped on the front, trying her best to mask her dismay at the turn of the events. If the circumstances were different, Winter would have appreciated the way you spat those words with promise and revenge. However, this time it was just evident of the fact that the guard was right–

Something did break inside you.

“You’re not alone,” Jongho urged you to look at him. “We’re with you. We’ll do this together.”

You nodded and he helped you get up but your knees gave in and you stifled another wave of sadness that threatened to take you down with it. Jongho supported you, making sure you were okay to walk before accompanying you downstairs, your guard right behind.

Once in the comfort of the apartment, he took you to your room and made you get in your bed under the covers. You assured him that you were alright but he knew better.

The horrors of the war had kept him awake at nights. He had the boys comfort him and stay with him at his lowest.

He would do the same for you now.

So after making sure that you were fed and ready for bed, he asked if he could stay with you for the night. The sincerity in his voice almost made you smile. You pulled the covers for him so he could get in bed with you.

He held you in his arms. You didn’t question his reasons. You were well aware that it was going to be a long, long night.

When you woke up in the middle of the night with a scream lodged in your throat, he held you closer. He told you stories about the boys and how they comforted him during the war. They would stay up all night for him, barely getting any sleep just so they could watch over their youngest. At the slightest twitch, they would be fretting about how to make sure that he did not wake up, and how to turn his nightmares into dreams.

You did cry then, just a little. You told him that you were incredibly tired. He kissed the top of your head and assured you that it was okay to feel that way, but he believed in you. He believed that you would get back right up and that you would be fine. He also told you that it was okay to not be fine. You had him, the boys, Winter. They all cared for you.

“I’m going to be all alone in that house,” you said in the middle of the night, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat while he absently caressed the skin on your arm. “I’ve gotten so used to not being alone. It’s become a crutch.”

“It’s not a crutch,” Jongho’s voice had a raspy tinge to it from all the broken sleep. “I see it as my strength. Even when I’m alone, I know that I have my people.”

You hummed. That was certainly one way to look at it.

You looked up at him, resting your chin on his chest. The faint moonlight illuminated the outlines of his face with a light blue sheen from the crack of dawn, and you could tell that he had a smile on his lips.

“Thank you for staying with me tonight. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“You would have been fine,” he said but you were not having any of it.

“Thank you for letting me go to Eden Square,” you finally addressed what happened. “I think I would have been so cross with myself if I didn’t go today. Secretary Park… I think he’s finally had enough of President Lee too. He was not happy with what happened.”

“Only a monster would have been happy with how things turned out,” Jongho said, shifting so he could look at you.

“Secretary Park is not the monster that I thought he was. He’s still an evil, evil man,” you asserted. “But… I think I’ll finally have the answers I’ve wanted all this time when I go back to his house. He claims that he needs me in order to protect us, his family.”

“What do you think?” Jongho asked.

“He’s my only family,” you sighed. “He’s the only parent that I have. He may be something of a monster, but he raised me well. If I can protect him from President Lee… I should. I owe him that much.”

“I understand,” Jongho said. “Just remember that you don’t owe the man too much. Don’t end up giving him your all when he doesn’t deserve that. And you’re not responsible for protecting him. He could still be manipulating you.”

“Thank you for understanding, Jongho,” you smiled.

“You need to stop thanking me,” Jongho laughed helplessly. “I’m just saying it like it is. I understand your reasons. I want you to keep a level head when you’re there, and… even though I want to stop you from going to that house, the decision is yours.”

“You should coach Hongjoong. Or even some of the others,” you scoffed. “It’s going to be an ugly fight with them when they learn what happened.”

“The hyungs…” Jongho began, shifting to support you better when you snuggled closer, almost wrapping you in an embrace. “Seonghwa and Yunho too, they… they love with a fierceness that is overwhelming. I don’t know if they always used to be like this or if it was the circumstances that changed them, but they love like they wouldn’t wake up to see tomorrow.”

You sighed deeply at his admission. That was true. The rest were very casual, almost relaxed with their affection, but the oldest ones did love like there was no tomorrow.

“Which is why they’ll absolutely lose it when they learn what happened here,” he continued. “It’s going to be hard to talk some sense into them. They are fierce and possessive, and it’s not bad at all, no.”

You agreed. “I’ll make sure they understand. It’s not like I’m cutting ties with the Crescents. That’s probably the stance Secretary Park will take but I’m yours. I won’t be turning my back on you guys. You’ll just have to be patient.”

Jongho looked at you with reverence, a smile forming on his lips. You were confused for a second but then realisation washed over you and you smacked his chest, making him chuckle.

“You’re no better than your hyungs. All that talk and ‘I’m yours’ is the only thing that processes in that big head of yours?”

“I’m guilty,” he admitted with a grin. You shook your head.

“I am yours, though. You should know that.”

Jongho stifled a groan. “You’re awful.”

You hummed in agreement, cupping his face and caressing his cheeks. You had deep respect for the youngest after everything you had been through with him. He was the most understanding and his presence was always a comfort.

To convey your thanks, you looked at him for permission before you pecked his lips softly. He smiled lovingly, sharing another soft kiss before kissing the top of your head.

You slept soundly afterwards.

You were dropped off at your home when you returned back to Sector 1.

Wendy was not present, probably at work. However, there was a pot of your favourite meal spread on the kitchen counter with a note that said ‘welcome back!’. You smiled at her scribble, feeling close to tears. Before you could confront your emotions, you hopped into the shower and let your tears mix with the running water.

The hot shower seemed to have delivered the cathartic release that you so needed. You took your time under the water with no engagements for the night, enjoying the mechanical routine of washing your body. Anything to distract you from the constant bang of bullets in your head.

Dressing in one of your more comfortable sleeping gowns, you picked at your food but managed to get something in your system after a few minutes of internal debate. You were just finishing cleaning up when the doorbell rang. Your eyes darted towards the clock– it was past 7, which meant that it wasn’t Wendy. She usually came home after 9pm. Could it be Winter? You had given her the evening off and asked her to get some air but maybe she came back to join you for the night.

You donned a robe over your black gown and waited until a knock sounded on your door. You opened it just a fraction, sighing in both relief and surprise when you discovered that it was Hongjoong.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, opening the door for him. “Is everything okay?”

“I just wanted to see you,” he said, making a quick scan of your appearance. “Wrong time? This can wait–”

“No, come in,” you made space for him and took his jacket, hanging his outerwear by the door. “I just had dinner. Would you like something? Tea?”

“I’m good,” he assured, looking around the living room while fixing his white dress shirt. “Winter?”

“Gone for the night,” you said and he finally settled down on the sofa. You took a seat in front of him, bringing your legs up to tuck under the material of your gown. “I was going to see you tomorrow morning.”

Hongjoong nodded. “I just came by to make sure you were alright. We can discuss the logistics some other time.”

“I’m fine,” you shrugged vaguely. “As fine as I can be after… the mess. The shower certainly helped,” you let out a weak chuckle but Hongjoong didn’t find it funny.

“Are you here to scold me, Kim Hongjoong?”

“You always think the worst of me,” he shook his head. “For once, I have no words. I’m mad but I don’t have the words, Luna.”

You pursed your lips. “Did you talk to Jongho yet?”

“A bit. Got a summary of what happened,” he said, folding his arms. “I just… I wish you didn’t go, Luna. That’s all.”

“I know,” you sighed. “I wish I didn’t. I cannot forget the faces of the victims, but… if I didn’t go, no one would have remembered the truth about their last moments.”

Hongjoong sucked in a breath. You had a point.

“How did they look like? In their last moments?”

“Confused,” you recalled. “Afraid, but… angry. We failed them, Hongjoong.”

“Angry at who?” He inquired. “Not at you. Not at themselves for losing their freedom once again to the elites of this continent. Not at Mr. Ji whose cause led them here, but angry at the system, the corruption,” Hongjoong reminded you. “We didn’t fail them. We tried our best. This nation failed them.”

You supposed that he was right.

“This isn’t the first time our nation has failed its people,” Hongjoong continued after a moment. “Neither is it the first time that someone is fighting back.”

“So you are here to kill my spirits? What’s left of them?” You commented and he scoffed in amusement.

“I’m here to remind you that you are not a lone fighter,” Hongjoong said. “I’m here to make sure that my sword hasn’t gone rusty.”

“A little, it has,” you answered. “Just like my shield that failed to protect me. I’m meant to leave for the Park Mansion soon, Hongjoong. How will you protect me now?”

Hurt flashed in his eyes for a moment but he quickly masked it, ever the trained warrior. “Why do you fret? You’re still a weapon, Luna. Your defence might be down momentarily but that does not mean you cannot maim in the meanwhile.”

“I won’t be a weapon,” you told him. “I’ll be a shield. I’m going back because I’ve been threatened that one of my people could be rounded up in Eden Square next time. I don’t think I can attempt something while I’m there and risk the safety of the people I love. Do you understand now?”

“You don’t have to protect us,” Hongjoong leaned forward, attempting to reason, his clasped hands clenching and unclenching. “You only have to protect yourself. We’ll work things out, don’t stress about it– at least not tonight. I– I didn’t mean to talk about this and rile you up, I was supposed to comfort you, fuck.”

You watched Hongjoong bury his face in his hands, probably regretting the direction of your conversation. You shook your head, somewhat amused.

“What was your big plan when you decided to come here, Captain?”

Hongjoong sighed deeply into his hands, locking eyes with you. “No plan. I just wanted to make sure that you were not beating yourself up over what happened, and I wanted to make sure that you ate your dinner. I’ll see myself out now.”

Hongjoong started to get up and turned to leave but before you knew it, you were tugging at his sleeves. He stopped in his tracks but didn’t turn to face you, and you thought that it was better this way.

You wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head against the space between his shoulders.

“Must we always talk in circles?”

“I don’t know,” Hongjoong’s voice no longer sounded authoritative. “It seems like we’re cursed to do so.”

“We’re not,” you chuckled. “Try saying what you mean for once, Joong.”

Hongjoong grunted, trying to think of the words.

“Shall I start?”

He laughed silently. “Go ahead.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For everything,” you confessed. “For being mean. For always contradicting you.”

“I don’t think you’re mean,” Hongjoong placed his hand on top of yours where they were clasped around his waist. “And I never want you to submit to me just because I’m the boss. I prefer that you contradict me and we work things out after, even if it takes a few arguments to visualise the same goal.”

“See? That wasn’t too hard,” you smiled. “I bet you’re sorry too.”

“Yeah,” Hongjoong laughed softly. “I’m sorry for being mean and contradicting you so often.”

You smiled. “I don’t mind… okay, I mind it when you’re mean. I don’t think you realise when you’re mean,” you told him. He had to agree. “The other part… I don’t mind that. I know you just want the best for us.”

“I’m sorry for being mean,” Hongjoong gently gripped your hands and brought them to his lips, placing soft kisses on both of them before wrapping them on his chest, right over his heart. “I’ve got a bitter tongue, and I hurt the people I love too often.”

“It’s okay,” you pressed your lips against his back. “Someone’s got to discipline us every once in a while.”

Hongjoong laughed heartily at that. “You sound just like the boys, you know? No wonder they like you so much.”

You grinned at his admission. “And you?”

Hongjoong gently pushed your hands away so he could turn and face you. You took a step back, your lips parting in surprise– you had never seen his eyes so soft, so full of affection. You supposed that in the privacy of this house, he was truly unmasked and unguarded.

Vulnerable, but so sure of his actions. He cradled your face ever so gently and traced the pads of his thumbs across your cheekbones, his eyes memorising every inch of your face.

“I thought by now you were aware that I am so deeply and helplessly in love with you that I don’t know what to do. I keep making a fool of myself in an attempt to convey my love to you.”

It felt like some fractured part of your heart was patching itself up, his confession like a balm meant to heal you in places you didn’t know you were hurting. Of course you knew that he loved you, however, these words were something you were sure you would never forget.

A sincere smile grew on his lips. “I promise that I’ll continue to protect you. I know going back to Park Mansion is inevitable now, but I’ll make sure to set things right. You are a Crescent, and nothing will change that. You are a Leader. You are ours, just like we are yours.”

You nodded and he kissed your forehead, lingering there. “Everything will be okay, love.”

You nodded yet again, speechless. The only way you knew to convey your love was through actions so you slid your hands up his chest and cupped his neck, bringing him closer until your lips met in a fierce kiss that was long due now.

It felt as if a dam of feelings had broken. There was too much to account for– months of push and pull, far too much time spent yearning for each other, unaccounted feelings and words and emotions, but nothing mattered anymore, for now you were where you were meant to be– in the Captain’s protective hold, his lips moving against yours full of promise and love.

Hongjoong attempted to steer the kiss into something gentle, attempting to convey his sincerity and yearning, but the way you clutched onto the fabric of his shirt and pulled him closer had him swallowing a groan instead. He resorted to matching the pace of your lips instead, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss as his hands trailed down your body to wrap around your hips and pull you flush to his body.

Hongjoong pulled back, his brows furrowed as he inspected your expressions. A faint smile crawled on your lips and you shut your eyes as you brushed the tip of your nose with his.

“Such a beautiful thing, you are,” Hongjoong cupped your face with one hand, admiring the way you leaned into his touch. With his other hand, he pulled your black robe away from your shoulder, exposing the thin straps of your gown. “My strong warrior. My love.”

Your lips trembled in the slightest and he immediately captured them in a kiss, this time soft and meaningful. He moved in a rhythmic manner, every movement of his hands laced with intention. Slowly, he slid the robe off your body, leaving you in your nightgown that was a simple silk top and shorts with lace decorating the curve of your neck. He traced the pattern with his fingers and cupped your breast once before pulling away from the kiss and attaching his mouth to the curve of your neck.

You craned your neck and let out a deep moan, wrapping your arms around his chest and pulling him closer. He trailed sweet kisses along your collarbone and then pulled the strap with his teeth before kissing the bare skin there, making you chuckle slightly.

“Are you teasing me right now?”

The way he looked at you in response had you shivering in his grasp. You had never seen this look on him– desire and yearning in his eyes. Possessiveness. The two of you moved in unison and shared a deep kiss before he picked you up in his arms and started leading towards the room with the open door and leaking dim light that he naturally assumed was yours.

You caressed his face lovingly as he laid you down on the bed, ever so gently. He started by trailing his hand along your bare thighs, keeping his eyes fixed on yours. You hooked your legs around him but he remained unfazed, settling into a comfortable position and kissing you leisurely. You decided to play along.

It felt like you had all the time in this world. No rushed kisses. No desperation anymore. Just the yearning from all the time spent picking on each other instead of embracing each other now finally translating in the form of caresses and kisses.

Where was the man who sometimes failed to conceal the lust in his eyes when he looked at you? Where was the man who concealed a promise in his words– the promise to break you apart? Was this the man who seemed to have enjoyed it when you were frustrated when he watched you kiss Seonghwa with your eyes fixed on him instead?

This man was someone unfamiliar, or perhaps… vulnerable. True and bare. He held your hand with a reverence that spoke volumes– nothing that he could ever say out loud in words. He kissed your lips with a gentleness that proved his love for you, a whisper of his confession. He traced the outlines of your body with intentions that were all but pure. He swallowed your moans and whimpers with his tongue, resting his core on top of yours and making you restless with each second, yet he remained unmoving without exhibiting any control.

When he finally separated his lips from yours, he watched you for a long time. He fixed his eyes on yours as he began to worship your body, starting with taking off your top. He muttered praises all along. Beautiful. Mine. So lovely. Mine. A piece of my heart.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

You were no longer hesitant with your actions, but you felt a bit shy when you dug your fingers in his hair, the soft strands tickling your skin. You tugged at his hair just a bit when he wrapped his mouth around one of your nipples after teasing it for too long. You tangled your limbs, feeling overwhelmed in the best way possible.

Your Captain. Yours.

While he was fondling your breasts, you tugged at his shirt and he let you take a moment to unbutton it. He threw it off and you frown as you inspect the multiple scars scattered across his body, ranging from faded short ones to stitched long ones.

“What… happened?” You asked, hesitant fingertips reaching out to trace the marks.

Hongjoong didn’t shy away. “I was not always a good soldier. It took me a while to learn how to fight.”

You met his eyes. He smiled at the worry in yours and held your hands, squeezing them affectionately. “It’s okay. They switched me over to Strategy before I could get myself killed. Yunho and… General Wi taught me how to fight and properly defend myself afterwards.”

General Wi. You smiled fondly at his admission. “You must really admire the man, then.”

“Admire, not very much anymore, but respect? I think, yeah,” he admitted. “He is not a bad man and I wish I could help him more.”

“You’re doing enough,” you told him. “Don’t be too harsh on yourself.”

He kissed your forehead, clearly wanting to change the topic. You pulled him to your lips again and shared a reverent kiss, tracing your hands across his marred back and chest.

“You’re beautiful,” you told him when you broke the kiss and he shook his head. “You are. I won’t hear a no.”

“Whatever you say, darling,” he grabbed your left hand and traced the scar that ran along your thumb. “Did you get this in the war too?”

“Oh, no,” you chuckled. “This I got from a foolish fight with Sunghoon.”

His gaze darkened immediately and you poked his chest. “He didn’t hurt me. It was an accident, I accidentally grazed a nail.”

“So it is because of him,” his jaw clenched. “I’m killing him the next time I see him.”

“You’re awful,” you chuckled, letting him trace patterns on your bare waist.

You locked eyes with him and tugged at the waistband of his slacks and he raised an eyebrow. You purposefully tugged at it again and he let out a shaky breath.

“Are you sure?”

“I am,” you nodded eagerly. “Of course I am, Captain. You made me wait for too long.”

He let out a deep guttural laugh and removed your panties first, throwing them away carelessly over his back. His lips started to trail soft kisses along your inner thigh, hands squeezing at the curve of your hips and you tried not to squirm too much under his grasp. He saw how aroused you were for him but he didn’t comment on it. He simply locked his eyes with yours for that final bit of permission before caressing your mound lightly with his fingertips.

You jerked under his touch and he pressed the pad of his thumb to your clit before his fingers worked his way down and deeper, sliding a digit inside you with ease and following with a second soon after. His free hand traced up until it braced itself on your shoulder, his hot gaze watching the way you moved under his touch.

“Too much?” He asked but when you shook your head, he curled his fingers deeper, making you arch slightly, your fists gripping the sheets. He explored the cavity with leisureness, making the coil in your stomach grow tighter and tighter, threatening to snap–

And then he drew away. You let out a soft sound in protest and he shook his head, leaning in to whisper in your ear.

“I want to be inside you when I make you cum.”

With a kiss to your cheek, he pulled his pants and briefs down in one motion, freeing his half-hard cock. You licked your lips at the sight, watching and waiting, something deep growing in your abdomen as a wave of fresh arousal coursed through you. He pumped his cock a couple of times before looking around–

“It’s okay,” you told him and his features contorted into confusion. “I… I’m on contraceptives. You don’t need a condom.”

Hongjoong clenched his jaw, barely able to contain himself. “Are you sure? I have one, it’s not a problem–”

“I’m sure. I– I want this,” you breathed and he could feel something inside of him break at the vulnerability in your voice. “I want to feel you. All of you.”

Hongjoong regarded you with interest. “Have you done this with anyone before?”

“Without a condom?” No,” you told him the truth. You had been intimate with Yunho and Seonghwa so far. With Yeosang and San, it hadn’t gotten to this point yet.

But right now… you needed this. You did not know if it was because it was Hongjoong or because of the recent circumstances, but you needed to feel the utmost level of intimacy. You needed to feel every inch of him– inside you, on top of you, everywhere.

“Come here, please,” you said in a shaky voice and he immediately obeyed, getting on top of you and kissing you slowly, passionately, his cock resting between your folds and being lubricated by your arousal as you moved against him, your arms wrapped around him and held him close. When you didn’t let go of him, he took it as a sign and shifted to bury his cock inside you.

With just the tip inside, he had you groaning and clutching at him, your legs wrapping around him to ease him inside you. He clasped your hand with his free one and guided himself inside you slowly and surely with the other, letting out a deep moan when he was done.

“Fuck,” he whispered, now both hands clasping yours and pinning them to the bed. “Fuck, y/n.”

He moved experimentally, rolling his hips and resting his head on the bed near yours, lips finding your shoulders to give you soft, tender kisses. When you moved in return, he shivered involuntarily and slowly started to thrust into you with deep, meaningful strokes.

“You’re going to end me,” he whispered and you smiled, sharing a sweet kiss with him. “Fuck, baby. You’re really going to kill me.”

“You’re saying that,” you sighed in pleasure, moving in synchronisation with his thrusts. There was no urgency, just the desire to feel each other and make the most of the moment. Your walls twitched, indicating an approaching orgasm but Hongjoong made no effort to speed up. He kept his eyes locked with yours, hands caressing yours as he thrusted in a steady motion, making the delicious feeling in your stomach grow larger with each movement.

Your breath started to grow quicker and Hongjoong’s gaze fell on your parted mouth. He wet his lips before diving into your mouth with his tongue, the kiss growing hot and heavy as his thrusts started to become unsteady.

He unwound his hands from yours and pulled away to cradle your body in his arms before thrusting deeper into you, your moans intermingling. His lips felt like feathers against your temple and you wrapped your arms around his back, telling him that you were close.

“Good, good,” he said with a shaky exhale. “Come for me, love. You’re doing so well, fuck–”

Your orgasm may have been slowly approaching but it hit you with surprise when he held you impossibly closer and you came apart in his arms, an electric feeling coursing through your veins, your deep moan music to his ears. He kept thrusting and followed soon after with a deep groan, trembling under your touch.

He eased your orgasm and his with slow strokes but settled down on top of you, kissing your temple over and over again. You buried your face into the crook of his neck and he rolled over to the side, remaining inside of you for a few moments while he studied your face.

“You’re beautiful, my love,” he told you, tucking your hair back, a sincere, almost childish grin on his lips. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“Stop,” you flushed, laughing at the irony of how it was his words that made your cheeks warm when he was still inside you. “You’re insufferable.”

“You love me,” he scoffed.

“I do,” you smiled sincerely. “Kim Hongjoong. I love you so much. Don’t you ever forget that. Don’t you ever doubt that– not for a moment.”

Hongjoong’s smile fell at your confession. He could tell why you chose to say those words now. He would be holding on to these words after you leave for Edenary.

Silently, he slid out of you and waited until he could breathe normally, his hands caressing the curves of your hips, eyes fixed on the contact. You called his name but he didn’t respond. He disappeared and when you heard the sound of water running, you sighed in relief.

He was still here. He wasn’t leaving you alone.

He returned with a towel and a glass of water. Without uttering a word, he handed you the glass while he proceeded to clean you up with gentle swipes. He tossed the towel and got inside the covers after tucking you in. When you moved closer, he wrapped you in a sure embrace as if he would never let you go.

You wished he wouldn’t.

“Hongjoong,” you called softly and he hummed this time, pulling you a little closer and rolling over so you were slightly on top of him while he laid on his back. With a hand buried in your hair and another around your waist, he synchronised his breathing with yours.

“I need you to trust me when I tell you that I will change things,” you started to say, hand caressing the ragged scar that ran across his shoulder. “I don’t know how slow it will be, but I am Luna of the Crescent. I am nobody’s daughter. I am nobody’s sister. I am just Luna now. A part of Ateez. A Leader. A Crescent. I am yours– all of yours. I will return to my rightful place in your arms.”

Hongjoong clutched you tighter so you wouldn’t feel the tremble in his hands. He kept you snug to his chest so you wouldn’t move and see the sheen of tears in his eyes.

“I hate that you have to go,” he said, failing to keep the tremor in his voice. When you tried to move, he held you tighter and you understood. “I hate that I have to let you go. But I want you to know that you are just Luna. You don’t have to play any roles anymore. You are simply a woman who needs to return to her home right here, okay? Return safely. Return proudly. Return whole.”

“I promise,” you told him, determination in your voice. “Thank you for believing in me. I love you, Joong. I love you so much.”

“I love you,” he replied with a kiss to the top of your head. “I don’t doubt that, and I will never forget that.”

next chapter

taglist pt 1:

#just finished reading this chapter and i could both kill someoner #or kms <3 #what in the rollercoaster of emotions #it's like you feed us one spoonful of goodness after each slap :)#but anyways! let's break it down #i love how luna introduced silver light to the world #her being the face of this pharmaceutical line while being connected to secretary park is peak irony #woosan are so cute hehe #okay im growing to like assemblyman wi #it's interesting why prezzy lee hid the baby pic and I've got so many theories #but im verh doubtful #okay holy smokes public execution?? what in the dystopia #omg the whole scene i cant believe im saying this but fuck prezzy lee??#sec park is so cryptic like wdym man 😭 my brain is breaking #jongho crumbs! JONGHO SNACK!! JONGHO MEAL!!#omg girl #hongjoong's love confession is for the history books #GOOD LORD #the smut is so well done #this really is peak intimacy im buzzing #please i love this sm 🫠🫠#ateez x reader #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong angst #hongjoong smut #ateez angst #ateez ot8 x reader #poly ateez x reader

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emotionallyanaemic · 2 months ago

Text

The Leaders | Chapter XIII

"lies, control, rules, numb, hatred, emptiness."

masterlist

ot8!ateez x f!reader, mafia au

chapter warnings: drinking, smoking, illegal businesses, mentions of war/military, drugs, gangs and corruption, secrets and more secrets, luna gets promoted for the umpteenth time, hj finally shows his vulnerable side! but he is also about to murder someone, shooting and near death experience but no one gets hurt.

chapter wc: 11.7k

chapter synopsis: tiffany admits the reason behind her betrayal and hongjoong offers her a chance to redeem herself. you meet secretary park who orders you to come back and inherit the business but you refuse. president lee makes a public announcement where he covers the troops as special forces aiming to catch spies and the crescents follow with a news article hinting at his involvement with strictland. hongjoong promotes you as shareholder and face of the pharmaceutical business. when you get attacked while you are with jaemin and renjun, hongjoong rounds up his crew to remind them of their loyalties.

prev chapter recap: hongjoong, jongho and you go to edenary to get assemblyman wi on your side. before you leave, yunho invites you over for a relaxed night with him and yeosang. you finally meet the assemblyman but he doesn’t cooperate and admits that president lee is a dangerous man who has tied him down. he tells you that the president has his eyes on you and you interpret it as a warning. you request winter to accept secretary park’s invitation to meet him. at a business gathering at the ju residence, you remind assemblyman kim that the offer to join the crescents still stands. you reveal the true involvement of president lee with strictland. president lee makes a surprise appearance there and jongho eases you through the greeting. you catch his female secretary and exchange greetings. you accidentally hear the president tell secretary park that you look just like your mother. hongjoong leaves for sector 4 to follow a tip to madame tiffany and you go to a bar to think things over. you meet inspector gong there and have a rather sentimental talk before trading info. after learning that president han was investigating something personal regarding her family right before her death, you offer the inspector a meeting with president han’s secretary, oh jungse. winter confirms that president han was looking not into her maternal or paternal family which leaves questions about a possible child. the night ends with jongho’s affectionate warning to not make any deals with the devil.

Hongjoong was a man of many names.

The Colonel, he was called in the war. Colonel Kim. An honoured colonel because of his commendable yet questionable military strategies. Sometimes, he thought he heard a whisper of some titles that people were starting to refer to behind his back. ‘The Enigmatic Leader’ or ‘The Controversial Leader’. He heard a group of soldiers refer to him with those names while he hid in the shadows near the barracks to grab a smoke in silence.

Enigmatic or controversial he may be, but a common ground was that everyone believed in his leadership qualities. It’s what prompted him to come up with the term for his own group– The Leaders. No matter how people described him and his gang, they would always include the word ‘leader’ when referring to Hongjoong. It was important to assert that he would always be in the lead regardless of the circumstances. He lived up to that title until it became something embedded in the common man’s subconscious. Hush. Here comes The Leader.

However, after having a detailed conversation with Tiffany through a secure line with her agent physically present to work out the logistics of their future approach, he was half-convinced that perhaps, he was just a man too. Maybe the title was too much for a young man like him. He was a strategist, but anyone could be. He was an honoured Colonel, but that wasn’t a title that only he owned. There were many people in this world like him. He was just a man who had perhaps bitten off more than he could chew. He was wearing a crown and it felt like he couldn’t bear the weight of it anymore.

Hongjoong felt as if he was back to being an inexperienced strategist as he narrated the contents of his meeting with Tiffany to you and Jongho. He felt squeamish, his skin tingling as if there were more than two pairs of eyes in the room trained on him, judging him, ready to pick on his flesh at the slightest slip. Once he was done, he took a deep breath and looked away, rubbing at his face as he let the information sink in.

He wasn’t sure if it was just him. Maybe he was tired of pretending to be someone stronger than he was. Maybe the two of you would be pretending for him now.

You are Kim Hongjoong, he reminded himself. The Leader of the Underworld. Honoured military strategist and the youngest colonel. Ruler of the shadows.

It sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

“I understand Tiffany’s reasons,” it was Jongho who spoke. “If President Lee really threatened to expose her Hala lineage to the world after she’s claimed to be from Wonderland… it would be the end of her business.”

“And now she’s far too deep in with the President to back out,” you rubbed your chin, ignoring the bitter taste in your mouth. “She really had no choice but to work with President Lee to attack us, and if she backs out now, she would be considered an international criminal for betraying her homeland and selling its secrets. She would also have no place in Wonderland anymore.”

“He’s got her trapped from all sides,” Hongjoong took a deep breath. “I don’t blame her for tipping the navy and attacking the warehouse. At least she had the decency to make sure that the warehouse attack did minimal damage.”

“Except now President Lee suspects her and she’s in hiding,” Jongho commented. “And it seems like she also possesses some common sense. President Lee will betray her whether she cooperates with him or not. He wants Strictland to be his property and no one else’s, and he’ll probably get rid of everyone who he uses to get to it. That's why she’s finally come clean now.”

“She cares about her business and the empire she’s built for herself,” Hongjoong mused. “She’s just a businessperson like us. Her partnership is only a means for her to make sure that her reputation remains intact, and her lineage remains a secret. She must have changed her nationality when she was just a teen. At that time, Halaland was under heavy criticism for their nuclear operations– she could not have reached these heights with her Hala roots, so she pulled those rotten roots out and planted a flower instead.”

You observed the uncomfortable shift of Hongjoong’s position, crossing his legs and then deciding against it, his fingers tapping restlessly on the arms of the couch. It had only been a few hours since he came back from Sector 4. He looked weary, and Jongho silently led him to the dining table, urging everyone to eat first. It was mostly silent, just the sound of utensils clicking against each other. You and Jongho could tell the meeting might not have gone as anticipated but hearing Hongjoong narrate what actually happened was far worse than you had ever imagined–

And it looked like he felt the same. If you looked closer, you could see his shoulders curling in with each passing minute with the man physically making an effort to maintain his composure.

“President Lee is just a person too, Hongjoong,” you reminded him. “He may be a monster of a man, but he’s just a man in the end. His pride and ego will surely be his downfall, and we can use that to our advantage.”

Hongjoong spared you a glance. Were you trying to convince yourself too?

You narrowed your eyes. You could tell exactly what he was thinking. “Tiffany is still doing the President's bidding, correct? She can continue to do so. She only has to inform us of the President’s plan.”

“That could be a test,” Hongjoong countered. “We got lucky with the warehouse attack, but if another attack happens and neither our business nor our men are harmed, President Lee will surely know that she has switched sides.”

“Then we pretend that we got harmed,” Jongho suggested and you both shifted your attention to him. “Just like we did with silver light. President Lee has assumed that our batches were damaged, which is why no one has traced the batches to President Son’s area. They’re still out looking for the raw material, the drug.”

You both considered that, and you nodded in agreement.

“She tells us what damage President Lee expects to do, and we pretend that he succeeds the next time. He wants bodies? You can surely arrange for that. He wants raw material as proof? Prepare a batch as a gift,” you scoffed. “He’s probably dying to see what silver light looks like as a medicinal drug.”

Jongho agreed and you both looked towards the Captain who still seemed sceptical.

“We can make this work,” Jongho said, shifting closer to him. You watched the way he curled his fingers around Hongjoong’s hand, squeezing it gently. “Believe in us, Hongjoong. Believe in yourself.”

Hongjoong. It was a surprise to see Jongho call the Captain by his name alone when he always referred to the most of them with the suffix ‘hyung’ attached. Wooyoung and Mingi were the only ones he referred to by their names and you never noticed that until now. You realised a few things– that he was probably very, very close with the warehouse boys considering the little age gap between them, and…

He was talking to Hongjoong as his partner now. Not as a Crescent, but as his friend and companion, if the way he squeezed his hand gently was any indication of that. As a romantic partner, if the way they looked into each other’s eyes was proof of that. Silent communication.

“Alright,” Hongjoong gave in, just like that. Jongho smiled assuringly, patting his arm.

“I’ll go to Sector 4 to meet Tiffany’s agent tomorrow,” Jongho announced. “I’ll take Taeyong with me since he knows who you met. You can go back to Sector 1 with Mark, the boys need you. Let’s have the minimum number of people know about this meeting.”

Hongjoong nodded and Jongho finally let go of his hand, getting up. “I’ve got plans at the bar with an old friend,” Jongho looked at you with a grin. “Someone she almost scared the shit out of.”

“Mr. Kudo?” You asked, recalling the meeting with the middleman for the Utopian client who was funding the Crescents’ weapons project.

“Ju Seok Tae,” Jongho said and your mouth turned into an ‘o’. “You scared him too.”

“Right. Send him my warmest regards.”

Jongho chuckled, exiting the living room and you heard him shout Mark’s name, who followed moments later. Once in privacy again, you locked eyes with Hongjoong.

You both were still pretending the little argument never happened.

“You’re going back tomorrow?”

“My work in Edenary is done,” he shrugged. “Will you join me, or will you come back with Jongho the day after?”

“I have the meeting,” you reminded him.

As if he could forget. You were to meet Secretary Park at his mansion tomorrow night. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Don’t let him get to you.”

“I’ll try,” you nodded. No point pretending that you would remain wholly unaffected.

“Well,” Hongjoong leaned forward, wanting to get up but resigning back with a tired pat to his thighs. “You should go rest. I’ll drink some more before I go to bed.”

You nodded. He was dismissing you–

“I’m sorry about that night,” he finally said. “I tell you that I trust you, and then keep things from you. I can understand if you hate me.”

“Hate is a strong word, Hongjoong,” you said softly, matching his fond gaze. “I could never hate you.”

Hongjoong pressed his lips into a tight line. “Still. It’s wrong of me to keep things from you.”

“But I trust you, and I trust that you will tell me when the time is right,” you told him and he nodded, relaxing a bit. “I want you to trust me with this meeting too. It could work to our advantage, and I’m not passing this opportunity. No harm in hearing him out.”

Hongjoong nodded earnestly.

“I want you to trust yourself too,” you said after a moment and he raised a brow in question. “I know it’s overwhelming to hear that the President has taken upon himself to destroy what you’ve built solely because you refuse to give up silver light and aim to expose his wrongdoings, but Hongjoong… If there is one man who can take him down, it’s you. Believe in yourself.”

“It’s not very easy to believe in myself when the whole world is pointing their trigger at my head, y/n,” he said. He appreciated the sentiment, but he wasn’t going to pretend that he wasn’t afraid.

“But you’re not alone,” you smiled and Hongjoong thought there was something sad about it. “You have the boys. You have me. You have the Crescent Company and all your partners. You have more allies than you think, and they’re all relying on you to lead them.”

To lead them. Hongjoong swallowed the wave of nausea at the phrase. However, nothing passed your eyes.

You got up and stood in front of him, placing your hands on his shoulders. When he didn’t object, you cradled his face and gently caressed his jaw.

“You’re not alone,” you reminded him again. “You’re not a leader when you’re with us. You’re just Kim Hongjoong. We’ll do this together, all of us. This is not your burden to shoulder alone, okay? It’s ours to share. But… you’re still our captain. Do you get what I mean?”

Hongjoong nodded, his heart feeling full again. This was exactly what he needed to hear, and coming from you, even after that little argument which he thought would have put distance between you two…

“You are strong. You are fierce and ruthless. That is who you are to the world. Straighten your shoulders when you go out. But when you’re with us… allow yourself to be vulnerable, okay? Don’t bottle your feelings and don’t let them eat at you.”

Hongjoong smiled, gently holding your hands and pulling them away from his face so he could speak, his hands coming to rest on the curve of your hips “I’ll only drink my sorrows down and smoke them out.”

“And talk them out,” you scolded. “Please tell me you talk it out.”

“I do,” he laughed lightly. “But… there’s nothing to say now. I really am speechless for once.”

“That damned president,” you muttered, sharing a laugh. “Well, I’ll be in my room if you finally find some words.”

Hongjoong nodded, silently thanking you. You cupped his face again, unable to resist the urge and planted a sweet kiss on his forehead.

You drew away, finding his lips parted in surprise. You stayed at eye-level, making him look at you.

“There is no one like you. Believe that.”

“There is no one like me,” he repeated.

You smiled in satisfaction and gave him another kiss, patting his cheek and leaving him alone.

Hongjoong wished he could have found the words to stop you, but he was once again rendered speechless. Perhaps, a drink and a smoke was exactly what would help.

The Park Mansion was still the same ivory grandiose structure, ever imposing with its high pillars and columns. The vines that previously curled around the pillars were no longer there, making the house appear more devoid of life even though the gardens surrounding the structure were flourishing as ever.

“The air always feels colder here,” you curled your arms around yourself, bundling the material of your jacket to hide the lower part of your face in it. Winter seemed unaffected, or maybe the air only felt colder to you. She only smiled knowingly in response and as soon as the butler appeared and urged you both to come inside, you reluctantly made your way along the stone path.

The butler recognised you, of course, but he was trained to not react to his guests. Still, the old man could not contain his smile at the sight of you.

“All grown up now, Miss,” he whispered, leading you to the sitting room. You ran your eyes quickly across the expanse of the house. Still the same. The painting frames that adorned the walls, the vases and antique pieces on the tables. Everything was right how you left it.

You smiled back, acknowledging the man. He had been around all your life, and though he usually handled the office space at home which meant that you did not cross paths too much, the butlers and the housekeepers were still fond of you. At least the ones who had always been there.

“How’s Nanny?” You asked, referring to the housekeeper who practically raised you. She left the job back when you were still a resident here, but you were sure Mr. Butler would have kept contact with her.

“Thriving,” he replied. “Lives with her son in Sector 3. You should see her sometime. She thinks very fondly of you.”

“One day,” you promised yourself and paused in front of the door.

“Ready?” The butler asked and you passed him a knowing look but nodded after taking a deep breath.

As soon as the doors opened, you were blasted with the thick scent of Secretary Park’s favourite lavender incense. It always made your eyes water up and you forced yourself to blink the tears away, spotting the man seated on the coffee table with a game of chess in front of him.

He often played with himself. When you were younger and on the rare occasions that he was in a good mood, he would bring you to his study and silently play a game of chess with you, explaining the moves and their symbolism. Apparently, real life was a game of chess too.

You supposed he needed a partner to play with and since Sunghoon wasn’t a good player, he made do with you, but you were soon going to realise he had a motive even in teaching you to play that game.

Everything he did, every move he made had a motive, an underlying intention.

“Come, take a seat. Let’s see if your skills got any better,” he called casually and you nodded at Winter who stationed herself outside the study.

Gathering the material of your skirt, you sat in front of him. Secretary Park rested his cheek on his hand, waiting for you to study the game and make your move. You took a good minute, finding yourself in an obvious trap. Was this intentional too?

You moved a knight piece forwards in your first attempt to break yourself out of the trap and he hummed in satisfaction. “Heard you and yours are in quite the bind.”

You rolled your eyes at the way he referred to the Crescents. Don’t ever come after me or mine again, you had told him.

“Nothing we can’t handle,” you said and he made his move, trapping you yet again, but you saw another opening and countered his move with one of the rooks. “What prompted you to request my presence, though?”

“Thought we could catch up,” his lips curled in an almost mocking smile. “You and me over a chess game, just like the old times.”

“I don’t have too much time to spare,” you sighed, tired. “Get to the point.”

“Easy,” he clicked his tongue at your tone and made his move before folding his arms. “If you wish for me to stop beating around the bush, I’ll do that. I want you to come back, y/n. Come back here and join me in my business. I need an heir and Sunghoon…”

“Sunghoon is not cooperating, as per usual,” you mirrored his position, crossing your legs. “If you were just a little bit patient with him, he would make a good heir. He’s not a fool.”

“He’s not good at chess,” Secretary Park said.

“What does that even mean,” you let out a short laugh. “What’s that got to do with his capabilities?”

“You know exactly what. He’s a good businessman but he does not think like I do, or even like you do,” Secretary Park responded. “Life is a game of chess, and he will always lose.”

“We can’t always win,” you looked at the chess board. You had no way out.

“When you’re trapped from all sides… you can’t win,” Secretary Park said, proceeding to show all the ways he could make moves in his current position and call checkmate. “And you’re trapped… Luna. You can keep the name if you wish to, but you will soon realise that your new life was just a very long game meant to lead you back home.”

Disbelief would be an understatement. “You have quite the audacity to ask me to come back home after attempting to take my life multiple times. How can a father do that to his own daughter?”

Secretary Park only smiled. “There are things that are in my control, and things that are not in my control,” he said, tracing a path for your queen piece along the board. A risky path, but the only one that had any chance of ensuring your victory. “I tried to harm you, I won’t lie about that. But you are under protection,” his gaze slid towards the pearl ring on your hand.

You narrowed your eyes, looking at your ring. “Is this piece of jewellery a marker?”

“Perhaps,” he smiled knowingly. “Do not ever take it off. As long as you wear it, you are under protection and even I cannot harm you. I tried and I failed, clearly. The spies protect you, even when you are at your most vulnerable.”

You swallowed the questions threatening to burst out all at once and instead asked the one that you had come here for. “This ring was my mother’s, correct? I think it’s about time you reveal her identity.”

“It’s the one thing I’m bound to keep a secret,” Secretary Park raised his hands in surrender. “If I say it, I will be a dead man by the night.”

“Then I have no reason to come back to you,” you took the risk and moved your queen, exposing her to all the threats but also clearing a path for her. “I will continue to remain with the Crescents.”

“It was never an option, sweet child,” Secretary Park scoffed, the two of you making rapid moves after rapid moves until he finally called checkmate and the queen fell. “It was an order.”

“You’re in no place to give me orders,” you told him, adamant. “I’m not even your daughter. I’m just Jeon y/n, an orphan child. Is that not what you decreed for me when I came back to my homeland? You banished me from the only home I ever had.”

For a moment, the two of you watched each other in silence. His face gave away nothing– not a hint of emotion. Always so guarded. You wanted to scream and yell at your father. You wanted to break down and cry if that meant that he could give you some answers.

You had stopped dreaming long ago, but sometimes you would dream of flashes of what your life could have been if he acted like a father. Were you not his child after all, just like Sunghoon was? Just because you had different mothers, why were you the one who had to suffer?

Would it have been so awful if he had been affectionate with you every now and then?

“I’m leaving,” you announced in a low voice, getting up. “You lost your daughter the day you changed her surname. I…”

We could have been a team in another life.

“I owe you nothing,” you locked eyes with him and you thought you saw a flash of an emotion in his eyes. Was it guilt? Was it anger? It didn’t matter anymore.

“You owe me something that cannot be paid back,” Secretary Park said when you turned your back to leave. You stopped in your tracks, hearing him out. “You don’t know it yet. Perhaps, it is not your debt to pay. But one day… you will understand why I could never be the father that you wanted me to be.”

You did not have the courage to look back and face him lest he really saw you unguarded, so you straightened your shoulders and walked out of the study, urging Winter to follow you. Once outside, you finally took a breather and let out a short laugh.

“Thought I had a chance this time,” you said. “But he gets me every. fucking. time.”

Winter whistled, about to offer you a cigarette but the sound of someone clearing his throat had you both turning your attention towards–

“Hi, sissy. Thought you’d never come back.”

Sunghoon. He didn’t look anything like the lanky boy you had grown up with. He was truly a man now, standing straight and proud with a cigarette wedged between his lips. He took out a pack from his pocket and offered you one.

“Not the drugs kind, are they?” You asked just to make sure, reminding him that you knew all his dirty little secrets.

“Perhaps they are,” Sunghoon scoffed, not minding the joke for once. Or maybe the sight of your bodyguard with her hand stuck on the weapon on her hips suggestively was enough to keep his retorts to himself. “I found that it’s better to be candid about these things. Who does drugs in the open, right under the sun?”

“True,” you shrugged, letting him light your cigarette. “Father dear is looking for an heir.”

“The one available is not good enough,” he cocked his head, shrugging. “The one good enough is not available.”

“Maybe it’s time you up your game,” you said, noticing how he appeared more posh now, even with his new length of hair. Perhaps, he had finally learned how to appear more put together. “I don’t want to hear from that man again.”

“But you will,” he said knowingly and you narrowed your eyes. “Once he decides that he wants something, he will do anything to get to it, and you know that.”

“I’d like to see him try,” you dropped the cigarette and squashed it under your shoes, looking towards the window that opened to the study. Surely, he was watching you both. “It’s good to see you, Sunghoon. Don’t let our father dearest get to you too much.”

Sunghoon shook his head, amused but his smile fell soon. “Take my words with a grain of salt, if you will. I’ll definitely be seeing you soon.”

You scowled at him and he erupted in laughter. Ignoring your gut yet again, you walked out of the mansion, ready to go to Sector 1.

Your home.

As soon as you stepped back into Sector 1, you were filled with a sense of relief that was indescribable. It was as if you had finally stepped out into the sun after being cooped in a cold house for too long.

However, that feeling did not last long. No matter where you were, the walls of that room threatened to suffocate you. If you were out in the open space, the sky seemed to be moments away from crashing over you. It felt as if there was not enough air to breathe, and while this was not a constant state of your mind as you were quite busy with the business, your free moments were usually filled with such anxiety.

You reckoned you had Secretary Park to credit for that. The way he had casually demanded you to come back and join him– you knew the man. It had been an order and the fact that you walked out only ensured that he would resort to dirty means to get you back. It was clear that Secretary Park was carrying out President Lee’s biddings obediently. Did the President approve of you taking over Secretary Park’s business?

Or had he been the one to pull these strings?

You did not know anymore.

You pressed your hand against the foggy window of your room, watching the birds flock past the houses and the men and women bundled up in their coats, hiding the lower halves of their faces under their scarves to avoid a red nose by the time they would reach their workplace. The days were turning more grey, the sun lost somewhere within the clouds. If you were lucky, you would get a few minutes of warm sun.

It looked like it was going to snow soon.

Wendy walked into your room with a cup of coffee, standing beside you to take a look at what you were watching. The view of your room was better than hers. You could spot the post clock at the end of the street, and the bench beside it was usually occupied by an old woman who liked feeding the pigeons right there.

“Looking forward to snow?” Wendy asked.

“Not really, not this year,” you admitted, taking a sip of the coffee. “I’d rather spring arrive. It’s cold enough as it is.”

“Are you okay?” Wendy asked, nudging your arm to make you look at her. “You love the snow.”

You loved the snow. That was the truth. When you came back from your long stay at Wonderland, you were so excited for the snow that Wendy wouldn’t hear the end of it. It became a little tradition with the two of you after the first winter back– you looked forward to the first snow and would always watch it together.

“I’m okay,” you attempted a smile.

Wendy narrowed her eyes. “Are you going to spill? Or do you want me to make you?”

A laugh erupted from your mouth. Wendy could be insistent, but she was always present at the right time. Taking a deep breath, you said, “It’s Sunghoon. I don’t know if I’m reading too much into it, but he told me that my father really means it. He wants me to come back to Edenary and… I’m scared of what he might do to get me to come back.”

“Well…” Wendy sighed, thinking. “You’ve got the Crescents now. You have a bodyguard. I don’t think it would be that easy to force you back.”

“But that’s the thing,” you shook your head. “He’ll make me willingly walk back to him. And I think when the time comes, I’ll have no choice. I’m afraid no one will understand that.”

“I do,” Wendy took your hand and squeezed it. “If that happens… I’ll understand. Winter will. We’ll conjure up an evil plan to bring that monster down.”

You gave her a pointed look. “If you get a leave from your office, sure, Miss Punctual.”

Wendy let you tease her, but it was a silent vow.

And even though you were unaware of Wendy’s vow, you thought the promise in her eyes did hold some weight after all. It wasn’t any different from how Yunho and Yeosang had looked at you the other night when you told them about the events in Edenary and your meeting with Secretary Park. While they did their best to assure you that things would be alright, there was a certain fierceness in their eyes this time.

We will protect you.

And… there was no doubt they would. But you would also do anything to protect them, you silently promised yourself that night as you lay in the arms of the two.

While you waited for the inevitable, which was surely going to be a dirty move from the enemy, you and the boys made preparations to land a fatal blow on the President. The Captain had established that President Lee was his enemy, and that he was done taking the enemy’s attack and pretending that he respected his title. The man was playing dirty. If he wanted to destroy the Crescents, he could very well try. The Crescents were ready to retaliate.

Hongjoong was similar to your father in the way he planned his moves. He called the office gang for the meeting. With Seonghwa and Yunho, you created a solid foundation for your plan. You were in a game of chess, or perhaps this was a battle. Whatever the analogy, you were going to activate all the pieces in the game and strike.

The first agenda was to figure out who the President’s allies were. Seonghwa was going to look into the members of the Eden Hall– the ministers, the cabinet members, the judges, anyone who was not a fan of the President’s recent stunts or was waiting for a chance for the President to fall. You asked him to keep an eye on Secretary Im as well. She was a meticulous and a ruthless person but one thing about her was that she loved to be on the winning side. If she ever felt insecure in her position as a secretary, especially moving forwards, she could end up becoming an unexpected ally.

Since you planned to expose the President’s intentions regarding the military dispatch towards Strictland, you needed a news outlet. Jongho had formed a strong alliance with Ju Seok Tae, and by extension, Ju Jihoon, the co-owner of Eden News. If the owner could approve of a few articles that would make the public question the President’s motives, and if the television broadcast could follow-up on that, your job would be done.

The public needed to lose faith in their leader. They needed to realise that the man who claimed to be a saint was just another devil in disguise, exploiting them. Any chaos that would follow would be the President’s own mess and he could deal with it.

However, there was a big obstacle, and that was Jang Kiyong. The co-owner of Eden News with Ju Jihoon. Jang Kiyong seemed to be the President’s ally since the time of President Han’s assassination. Jang Kiyong had censored all the news regarding Han Hyojoo’s death as per her husband’s request and continued to aid the President wherever he could.

It would all come down to whether Ju Jihoon and Jang Kiyong really were comrades as they claimed to be, or just business partners with their own motives. Ju Jihoon was probably the person aiding his nephew Ju Seok Tae with the funding of the weapons projects. One man was for the nation, and the other was for its leader. The partners could end up having a bitter clash which could break the foundations of Eden News, the biggest media and news network of Eden.

Ju Jihoon had personally convinced Hongjoong that he was on his side and while he was not willing to risk his position very much, he could very well sneak in a few articles. He recommended a writer and Jongho was in charge of crafting the article with the writer.

The timing of it was the most crucial element. Mr. Ju had received a tip that the President was going to be holding an unannounced campaign at the end of the week. Since it was already known that he would be running for presidency again, there was a high chance that this announcement would be something regarding the military. It would be the most impactful if your article was to be published right after.

The end of the week approached too quickly for your liking. With the second batch of silver light medicine produced without any external intervention and safely transported to one of President Son’s warehouses in Sector 2 under the supervision of San and Yeosang, the duo could finally relax and take a breather. Yunho, Mingi and Wooyoung were out ‘preparing an army’, which was essentially making sure their partners and allies were sure about their loyalties. Somehow, the stars aligned and everyone was finally gathered at Seonghwa’s house in the evening with the television on, waiting for Eden News to air the live address of President Lee.

Hongjoong was convinced that the President would be attempting something in order to draw the public’s attention away from the military stationed at the Strictland border. Currently, the military was on standby, and the news was that they were preparing for an ‘operation’. The boys were speculating and making bets on what the address could be about with half-empty bottles of drinks scattered across the table with some chips and crackers. You switched from joining them and making your own bets to simply watching a group of them bicker or another talk in hushed voices.

It was perhaps the first time you were all home. With no eyes watching your group and no ears hearing in, everyone was relaxed and right at home. Seonghwa was doting over Yeosang who was explaining something about his trip to President Son’s rather animatedly. Mingi was watching the two with fondness while he talked to Jongho, his hand clasped around Yunho’s in a sure grip while Yunho and Wooyoung had made San their subject of attention for the night. Attention was perhaps not the right word– the man looked tortured, having had too much to drink and his face sporting a deep flush. Hongjoong was sandwiched between Seonghwa and Wooyoung, with his head resting back on the couch, someone’s cap over his face to block the light while he rested and waited.

You were seated next to Jongho, having tuned out the two’s conversation and currently tracing nervous patterns on his pants near his knee. He kept swatting your hand in between, claiming that he was ticklish but your ministrations only intensified.

Until the youngest grabbed your hand. You resorted to tracing his knuckles next. He didn’t pay any heed, deep in conversation with Mingi.

It took another few minutes for the advertisements to come to a halt, the screen going static for a few seconds before it came back to life. All of you straightened and turned your attention to the screen. President Lee was seated on his chair in what looked like his home’s office room with a desk in front of him, a mic placed on it that he adjusted and tapped, waiting for the signal to start speaking. He was wearing a dark blue suit and his trademark smile. You noticed a photo of his wife in a frame by his side though the reflection from the lights made it unable to see her face clearly.

You suppressed the chills you got at the sight of him and braced yourself.

After the introductions, President Lee took a deep breath and started the announcement after his usual introduction and greeting.

“We are aware of the public sentiment regarding the recent military troops dispatched towards the northwest. I would personally like to apologise for the confusion and ask the public to understand that we are in the midst of carrying out a military operation. We have recently come upon some tips that our nation’s secrets are being sold to foreigners. As a leader of this nation, I am deeply disappointed to discover that and after making sure that the tip was legitimate, the Presidential Office in collaboration with Eden’s Army has decided to conduct a military operation to catch these traitors and prosecute them according to the law.

“We do not tolerate anyone who intends to bring harm to our nation. Eden citizens, I hope you can understand and cooperate while the military carries out this operation. If you have any tips on such happenings, please dial Eden Hall and an investigation shall be carried out. Thank you for understanding. Long live Eden.”

“Oh, brilliant. Bloody brilliant,” you were the first one to speak. “He’s talking about himself.”

“Didn’t expect anything less from him,” Hongjoong shook his head. “It’s clever. It gives him enough time to sneak in his soldiers to Strictland right under everyone’s noses. It also gives him an excuse to get rid of any thorns in his side under the guise of treason.”

“Yeah, and in case Strictland or Halaland retaliate, our people will think that the spies were selling information to them. They would begin supporting whatever happens next,” Yunho commented.

Seonghwa nodded. “If it starts to take the shape of a war… it’s like President Lee is preparing the people for that so it does not feel like a sudden blow. Like last time..”

“Well,” Jongho clapped his hands. “We were prepared for this. The article should be published in tomorrow’s newspaper, so when President Lee sits with his cup of tea to read about the public sentiment and gloat, he has a little humbling snack to go along with.”

Wooyoung snickered. “It’s about to get real messy in Edenary.”

“Let’s not lower our guard,” Mingi reminded. “We have to make sure the President does not drag us into this stupid plan of his. It would not be a good look for us if someone gets arrested under suspicion of treason.”

“He could also use this to attack us indirectly. He might target our allies,” San responded. “We have to stay alert and keep a watch on our allies too.”

“Do you think now is a good time to make our medicine public?” Yeosang suggested and Hongjoong shifted his attention towards him. “We could have a trial version of it launched and get it approved officially. It would also be nice to have a cute little backstory about how we discovered the main ingredient of this drug in the last war.”

“Risky move,” Hongjoong was scratching his chin thoughtfully. “But if President Lee is pulling out all his guns… I’d love to land a good blow. How did you get this idea?”

“President Son suggested it actually,” Yeosang revealed. “The part about the backstory. He said a formal introduction of our new medicine would do good in solidifying our position as a company that cares for the people. We need the public to relate to us and sympathise with us now more than ever.”

“Have Kihyun make preparations for that, he’s well-versed in how to advertise new launches,” Yunho instructed. “He could make a public appearance for a formal interview but one of us needs to be present with him. We need a face for the pharmaceutical side of business. Hongjoong?”

“Nah,” he shook his head. “San and Yeosang are too heavily associated with the bar to be the face for a medicine launch. I don’t think any of us have a very good repute despite all we’ve done. We’re just a gang in the end…”

When Hongjoong’s gaze flickered towards you, you found the rest of the boys following. You folded your arms defensively, overwhelmed by their eager eyes.

“Oh no,” you shook your head adamantly, reclining further down the sofa in an attempt to hide behind Jongho’s arm but he shifted towards his left where Mingi sat to give the boys a clearer vision of you. You glared at him.

“Think about it, Luna,” Seonghwa was trying not to smile. “You were a medic during the war. Your background is clean, and even if they do find out your connection with Secretary Park, it gives us an advantage. You have a pharmaceutical background, you are well-versed in the terminologies and how the business works. And you’re acquainted with Kihyun.”

“But you were also a medic!” You retorted and Seonghwa gave you a pointed look, reminding you that he was a sniper, primarily.

Wooyoung clapped in agreement. “This is our best shot. You’ve gone and connected with so many people in Edenary too. You have a good network now because you’re mostly seen with Hongjoong and Seonghwa in public. You can be our face for this project.”

“Not just a face,” Hongjoong took a deep breath. “She’s already done so much for this project. Saving us from a damning deal, warning us about Tiffany…”

“It worked out okay in the end, though,” you assured him and he smiled.

“Point is, you deserve to be the face of this project. That means that you will be made a major shareholder in the Crescent Company like the rest of us. I can’t keep you on an extravagant secretary wage forever. You deserve better than that, and I have many plans for you, my dear.”

“Stop,” you covered your mouth with your fist, looking at Seonghwa and Yeosang in disbelief who simply nodded enthusiastically. “You can’t be serious.”

“And what makes you think I'm not?” Hongjoong cocked his head challengingly. “You are a Leader. I can’t differentiate your status with the rest of the boys. And believe me, the shareholder thing is already in process. It’s got nothing to do with whether you take up our offer to be the face for the pharmaceutical side of our business, though I would very much appreciate it if you do.”

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you locked eyes with Hongjoong.

For a moment, it felt like it was only you and him in the room. You could feel Jongho patting your thigh to comfort you and you could hear the murmurs of the boys urging you to consider, some asking you to take your time to think about it, a few praises to assure you that you deserved this, but all you could see was Hongjoong studying your form and it felt like he was mere inches away from you.

“I owe that to you,” Hongjoong spoke in a low voice as if he intended to say something personal that only you could hear. “You earned it.”

“I think I’m going to cry,” you announced as you wiped the corners of your eyes, the room bursting into a chorus of laughs and ‘no!’. Hongjoong signalled that he would talk to you later and you straightened and asked the boys to get back to business– it was getting late and you needed to go back home.

Another hour was spent making plans and ensuring that everyone was prepared for the following days. Security was going to be tightened, but with the mole still within the Crescents, nobody was sure if the extra security would really matter. You just prayed everyone would be safe because with the article that was to be published tomorrow, there would surely be violent retaliation.

What degree? That was the question lingering in the air. Could the Crescents risk their business, their people, their own lives for this? It looked like they were willing to. In fact, they almost seemed unaffected by the prospect, and it made you wonder if they had always been prepared for such a turn of events.

Maybe it was because they were an illegal business and were used to playing dirty and dangerous. You seemed to be the only one doing the worrying for them. You could only hope they were hiding their worry instead of not feeling anything at all.

When you were done, it was Hongjoong who offered to drop you home. The five minutes drive to your home was mostly silent, and then he parked his car at the end of your street. Your home was two buildings away.

“Would you like to take a walk around the block?” You asked, aware that there were things that needed to be discussed.

Hongjoong nodded, getting out with you. Taeyong was not present so you asked if it was okay to walk around unguarded. He gave you a look, letting you know that if he was still alive and fully intact after years of having no bodyguard, that certainly meant that he was capable enough of protecting himself.

“When did you decide to make me a shareholder?” You asked the question weighing on your mind since he announced it.

Hongjoong sighed lightly. “I think around the time when we found out that Tiffany was fucking us up and I asked for your help. We had an argument but I told you that I trusted you. I meant it, Luna.”

“But… we were so busy, and there was so much happening,” you recalled, matching his slow pace as you walked the empty street with him. The gravel produced wet crunchy sounds under your shoes. “With the weapons project and trade pausing abruptly… when did you find the time, really?”

Hongjoong’s lips curled into a small smile. “I just had to pass some instructions. But it was around that time when I was sure about your position as a Leader. It wasn’t just a term anymore. I had to show you that I meant it.”

“As if you haven’t done enough for me already,” you looked at him pointedly. Your fingers brushed with his as you walked, though none of you minded nor made a move. “I’m going to be honest and tell you that I thought, just for a moment, that this was your way of keeping me close because Secretary Park asked me to come back.”

Hongjoong paused but you continued. “Just for a moment,” you reminded him. “I felt guilty right afterwards for thinking like that about you.”

“I don’t blame you,” he sighed and this time, he made his move and took your hand as you resumed walking. “You know that I would never trap you like that– none of us will. I thought that was clear.”

“It is clear,” you told him. “I’m just… I don’t understand how you guys can trust me and welcome me like you have– so openly. So warmly. I’ve always had to fight for trust. I’ve always fought to be seen, to be heard, and to be free. You gave me all of that so easily–”

“Not easily, no,” Hongjoong glanced at you, smiling at you. “We all had our doubts, of course. Yeosang may have appointed you as his bookkeeper, but at that time, you were disposable. Seonghwa would have killed you that night when you ran away with that silver light batch in the bar’s locker. Yunho conducted so many background searches and tested you in so many ways that you can never imagine. As for me…”

“It took you a while to warm up to me, I know,” you laughed and he joined, guilty.

“I’ve had my qualms about your loyalty, yes, but not for one moment did I doubt your capabilities,” Hongjoong stopped walking and turned to you, taking your other hand as well. “Your position as a shareholder is only a reward of what you’ve done for the Crescent Company. It is not because of the nature of our relationship with you, and certainly not because I am afraid that you will switch sides. I would have done that for anyone else if they earned that too.”

“Thank you for letting me know,” you smiled, fulfilled. “I would not have accepted this if otherwise.”

“I know,” he smiled. “Can you stop looking like you’re about to cry?”

“But I am,” you laughed, the tears escaping from the corner of your eyes. “They’re happy tears, don’t worry.”

“I know you’re anxious,” Hongjoong moved his hands to cradle your face, his brows furrowing with worry as he wiped your tears. “I know that you’re worried about Secretary Park. Don’t go back to him, Luna. He might try to force you, but we stand with you. We fight back.”

“He doesn’t care about the cost,” you pleaded. “He’ll hurt us, Hongjoong.”

“I won’t let him touch a hair on your head.”

A promise.

“He won’t physically hurt me,” you cried out. “He will hurt the people around me. He will break me and make me willingly walk back to him.”

“That’s President Lee,” Hongjoong reminded you. “Secretary Park is acting at the President’s orders.”

“Why do they need me?”

A question Hongjoong wished he could answer. You looked distraught, torn as if consciously keeping yourself from crumbling into pieces. The confusion about your identity, especially after your meeting with Secretary Park and his refusal to reveal your mother’s identity, learning that it was a marker for your protection… it had left a wound in you, festering into something ugly as time passed.

While Hongjoong did not have the means to patch you up, he did hold some information. A possibility, an idea so wild that he did not dare say it out loud.

But he would not try to heal you until he was sure that he could do a good job, so he attempted the next best thing.

“Because they’re scared of your potential,” he said. The truth. “Because you hold something over them that nobody but they know about. Whatever they’re hiding from you, the truth will come to light one day, and when it does… I hope that you remember that you are not alone. You have me. I’ll stand with you– we will stand with you. You never have to be alone again, y/n.”

You sniffed and nodded surely. Hongjoong stepped forward and pressed his lips to your forehead before wrapping his arms around you, cradling the back of your head.

You melted into the hug– it had to be the first time that the Captain hugged you. You relished every moment of it– the welcoming heat of his body, the way he caressed the back of your head and held you so surely in his arms. Your own arms wrapped loosely around his waist and he tightened his embrace as if he, too, was afraid to let you go into the unknown that tomorrow held.

You had to have been in each other’s arms, silent yet soaking in the unsaid, for a good few minutes. It was as if he was making up for all the arguments, all the harsh exchange of words since you started working for him. He finally loosened his grip and kissed the top of your head, resting his forehead against yours.

You almost clutched onto his shirt but he drew back. When he saw the desperation, the yearning in your eyes, he felt weak in his knees. Making a quick scan of your surroundings, he turned his attention back to you.

You did not look any better.

“We’re out in the open,” Hongjoong caressed your face lovingly, so carefully that you felt yourself unbecoming in his touch. “I cannot let my guard down any further. Go home, Luna. I’ll wait until I see you go inside.”

You nodded, understanding. He rested his forehead against yours, taking one deep breath as your noses brushed before drawing away and stepping back, physically restraining himself from going after you.

You were his weakness, and only he needed to know that.

With the chaos that followed the article that got published in response to the President’s address on the first day of the week, it was no surprise that things took a messy turn and your enemies decided to counter your move in the ugliest manners.

The article published was under a rather innocent heading– ‘A Look Back at President Lee’s Reign’. It was a quick summary of his political career– from emerging as a businessman while he was married to Han Hyojoo, to being her biggest supporter through the ups and downs of their life. From supporting his wife’s career, even after the loss of a child, watching her become president and losing her so soon afterwards, to laying the foundations of a hospital in her memory to fulfill his dead wife’s dreams.

A saint of a man who was heavily associated with Major Sung of Strictland, with a little sprinkle of the Strictland Nuclear Operation in the article and Secretary Park’s numerous visits to Halaland– on the President’s behalf? A point to ponder. Of course the public was outraged, as were the enemies.

That meant that no one was safe anymore. There had been two attempted attacks at the bar in the last week alone. Yunho and Seonghwa were out meeting with the Eden Hall members– politicians and ministers. Their car had been intercepted and they almost had a bad crash, though they came back unharmed. The MX warehouse was shut because of the threat and silver light production was once more put to a pause, though Tiffany was cooperating enough to share one of her warehouse’s locations in case the Crescents wanted to resume the production. Hongjoong wasn’t sure but she insisted that he could station his own guards if he was worried.

Hongjoong didn’t tell her that his qualms about her were not simply because of his distrust in the woman but also because he had a mole in his crew and he could end up damaging Tiffany’s business. Moreover, if President Lee realised that Tiffany had switched sides and was acting like a double agent of sorts now, he would make his move and mark her an international criminal. Tiffany may have caused damage to the Crescents but Hongjoong wasn’t going to corner her any further. He wasn’t a monster like President Lee.

Not a monster to the people who were honest to him. To the people who were not…

You would be finding out soon.

The last straw had to be when Jaemin dropped by in the office and shared some updates about the people behind the bar attacks. A man had been caught and a few of the Crescent crew members were interrogating him. According to Jaemin, the man didn’t give much, but after a few broken nails, he admitted that he really had no idea who hired him. The dealings were being done by a middle-man, and each gangster received their instructions from a different person in a different location. There was no way to trace it back, their payment was supposed to be wired into their accounts if they were successful.

And if they were not, they would not be walking back out alive. He was sure the other gangsters who had accompanied him to attack the bar were now hiding for their lives.

After sharing this update, you asked if he had lunch– the young boy looked tired and scared. You were going with Eunha and Jihoon to grab lunch at your usual spot and decided to take the kids along– apparently, Renjun was also in town. You had to thank them for their services, but more importantly, you were going to order them to lay low for the time being. It was too dangerous to play informants.

Hongjoong’s words that night when he dropped you at your home made sense now. He could not let his guard down in the open– there was someone who was watching you all very closely, someone who knew about how the business ran, what secret dealings were being done, and someone who was aiming to find your weaknesses and exploit them.

The attempted attacks were only the beginning, masked to look like the usual gang rivalry or random street attacks. The enemy was not aware that there was no gang rivalry anymore. The only gang who ever dared to rival the Crescents was Wolfgang, and they had been cooperating with Ateez ever since the weapons network almost shut down. They were in the clear, so it could only be Secretary Park and President Lee.

Or General Wi. Or even Jang Kiyong of Eden News. Surely by now, Mr. Jang was aware that his partner was not on the same side as him. He must have connected the dots.

Whoever it was, it had to be someone working for the President, and that was that.

After lunch with the kids, they asked you to drop them off at the arcade. You were pretty sure they just wanted a longer ride in your car and you didn’t mind. As long as they agreed to lay low for a while. You even sneaked in some cash in their pockets so they could enjoy the arcade like normal kids.

Except Winter’s humming turned into a warning ‘duck!’ and you hardly had any time to react, instinctively covering Jaemin and tugging Renjun down by his arm, the sound of broken glass and the tyres skidding making your ears ring violently as you went into panic mode.

Winter was quick to swerve the car on time. She spared one look to make sure you were all unharmed, and then she asked you to make sure the kids remained crouched. You loaded your own gun and Winter took off, following the car that had previously been stationed at the end of the street but was now zooming off. Winter told you that she saw a sniper get in the car, and she was going to catch them if she could.

That was her deal with you. In case of an attack, you would defend yourself and she would take the offensive and catch the attacker if possible. You made this deal with her, hoping it could lead you to the mole.

Winter followed them for a few streets, honking violently at any pedestrian or car who dared to be in her way,expertly dodging a few more shots. You fired a few bullets at the car, narrowly missing the tyres but they were prepared. You lost them when they turned abruptly, making you almost crash into a random truck.

The kids were scared. Even though they tried to appear calm, the tremor in their hands was enough to make you hot with anger. On the way back to the office, you held them close and once in the safety of Yunho’s office room, you told them that they were strictly off duty and were to remain at their home in the orphanage. Winter changed cars and dropped them back only after the kids received a few hugs, a scolding for insisting that ‘We are fine! Unharmed! We can still work!’, and a few blocks of chocolate stuffed in their mouths to shut them up and make sure that when their adrenaline crashed down, they wouldn’t faint.

As Winter reported to Hongjoong regarding the attack, an eerie silence settled over the room. Winter was sure to touch on the fact that whoever these people were, they might not have been targeting you at all but the kids. The informants. They knew there were kids inside the car and kept attacking.

That was how you ended up at the Crescent Bar. The bar was closed early for the night and all the crew members were summoned, ordered to report before the clock striked 10. That meant that not only the bar staff but also the entire crew of the Pledis Warehouse, the entire office staff that dealt with the internal business, Jaehyun and Ten from Edenary along with the rest of their Edenary workers, all the bodyguards and all the informants were present. Most of the faces you had only seen in passing.

The bar was swamped with these people. The tables and chairs were pushed against the walls, the lights dimmed to the lowest and the room reeked of alcohol and sweat. Nervous chatter sounded in the room among friends greeting each other after a long time. The women took refuge in one corner, aware that the boss would not care that they were women if one of them was a mole.

His punishment, if he did end up finding the mole tonight, would be an example for the rest to remember for the rest of their lives.

Jihoon had been kind enough to ask you to stand back and observe, and not interrupt the boss in the middle of his talk. Apparently, he had witnessed a lot of interrogations like these and he claimed that while the boss had been managing his ‘soldier instinct’ over the past years, there was no telling if he would revert back to his old ways.

The old ways. You shuddered at the implications of it.

You stood with Winter on one side and Mingi on the other. He was the only other Crescent present tonight and you wondered if it was because he was just a little different than the rest of the Crescents when it came to his approach. He was the more rational one out of them all, always depending on context and thinking a few steps ahead before making decisions, unlike the rest who were more fueled by their emotions.

Moments after Mingi took his position next to you, having requested everyone to stand in an order, the creak of the office door sounded indicating that the boss was finally making an appearance. The heels of his shoes clacked on the floor, silence intensifying with every step that he took, a heavy, palpable tension in the room spreading as soon as he stepped into their vision.

He looked mad.

He was still in his black button-up and matching slacks from earlier today, when you had reported to him about the attack. His sleeves were rolled and a few buttons were undone, the golden glint of whatever jewellery that he wore today peeking from under his clothes.

Hongjoong stood in front of the three of you, doing a quick scan of his crew. His crew, his old friends and his people. The bar staff– Yuju, Jeonghan and Mingyu, among others. They were friends. The guards– Taeyong, Johnny, Yuta and more. His most trusted people. The warehouse staff– from the designers to the engineers. From the guards to the soldiers. His spies. His eyes and ears. His shields and weapons.

One of them was leaking information. One of them had violated his code.

Hongjoong was aware how easy it was to make someone change sides. Threaten their livelihood, their family or their wealth and they would willingly become spies. He had turned far too many people against their superiors just like that. It was how he built this empire. There was the trust that he gained by doing honest work, yes, but he also needed to instill in the people that he was a force to be reckoned with. To survive in this world, you had to play a little dirty.

Hongjoong’s hands were tainted with blood and dirt. That was the cost of making it to the top.

Because he was aware of this power game, he made sure all his crew members knew to contact him directly in case they were approached with a threat to their lives, families or belongings. In case they were blackmailed to turn against their boss. Hongjoong would make sure that they played double spies and it worked most of the time. Eventually, his enemies realised that his crew was far too loyal to him and less people employed this strategy to take him down.

But Hongjoong was also not a fool to let his guard down because of the low frequency of such incidents. He usually was a step ahead of the mole.

Except this time, he felt like he was losing. It could only mean someone very close to him had betrayed him. In order to draw them out, he had to play along.

He would start by reminding the whole crew of where their loyalties lied.

Hongjoong cleared his throat before he spoke. “I am sure you are all aware of why I summoned you here.”

Nobody reacted. Not even a nod. You looked at Mingi who was watching the boss with a stoic face, his eyes sharply darting around, monitoring the crew.

Hongjoong started to move towards the left end. Taeyong stood there, along with the rest of the guards– Yuta, Johnny, Mark and more. They all had their hands clasped on their fronts, standing in a soldier-like stance.

“One of my own has betrayed my trust. I’ve taken every measure to ensure that in case anyone is approached with a threat over what they hold closest to their heart, they would report to me and play along safely and soundly,” Hongjoong walked with slow steps along the line of the crew, crossing the warehouse employees now. “I’ve put my trust in all of you as you did in me. Have I not done enough for you?”

Not a sound. You held your own breath as if you were the one being interrogated. A chill creeped up your spine and you stifled the urge to shiver.

“I know there is a mole among us. I’m half sure of who it is,” he admitted and the crew finally exchanged looks among them– some suspicious of the other, some in warning. “I let it go. If someone was reporting to the enemy without informing me and assuming the role of a double agent as they are instructed to, they must have been in quite a bind. I tried to be understanding, but even I have a limit.”

Hongjoong took out his gun from the holster and loaded it almost carelessly. Your eyes widened in shock– was he actually going to shoot someone tonight?

“The weight of this gun feels heavy in my hands,” Hongjoong’s tone had an almost amusing note about it. “It was heavy during the war. It was heavy whenever I had to defend myself. However…”

Hongjoong turned towards you, just a glance. Just a flicker of emotion in his eyes that barely lasted a second but expressed everything that he could not say today when he inspected your body to make sure you were safe earlier, when he cupped your face for just a moment and almost glared fiercely at you.

It wasn’t because he got angry, you realised now. It was because he was scared for your safety. You could have been shot to death in broad daylight today. You insisted the kids might have been the target, but Hongjoong didn’t care.

“Tonight, the gun feels like a feather in my hands,” Hongjoong looked at the weapon as if it was something he was seeing for the first time.

Hongjoong met eyes with his crew.

“Two kids were in the car when they decided that it was a good time to attack a Crescent.”

A chorus of gasps sounded. Understanding washed over some of them. Hongjoong was angry for all the right reasons.

“I may be a monster, but this is where I draw the line. I wish no kid to walk the path that we had to, to survive,” he dropped the hand that held the gun. “If there is a mole among you, and I know there is, you have exactly five seconds to step out. I will take your admission into consideration and not kill you in front of everyone else.”

Your heart sank almost violently. This is who Kim Hongjoong was.

This was the man who was the foundation of Ateez and the Crescent Company.

You were fisting your hands so hard that you didn’t realise when Mingi and Winter exchanged looks. Almost in synchronisation, they wrapped their hands around yours and stepped closer in a protective stance. You remained unmoving, unbreathing.

The five seconds felt like an eternity, yet…

“So you have decided to shun my last gift of mercy,” Hongjoong announced in conclusion, looking down.

You thought it was someone else, but it was Hongjoong’s own dark, almost maniacal laughter that filled the hall. He shook his head more in amusement than in disbelief, you were sure.

And then he met eyes with the men at the left corner of the room where the guards and the warehouse employees stood– your friends. Yuta, Taeyong and Johnny. The fiercely loyal guards. Sweet Dokyeom, handsome Jun and bright Seungkwan. The colour drained from some of their faces even though they remained in a soldier-like stance.

“There are fates worse than death. I will make sure to demonstrate that in the next summonings. Anyone who hurts me, or mine…”

Your heart must have stopped beating now.

“Anyone!” Hongjoong yelled this time, looking towards the rest. “Anyone who hurts me or mine cannot simply walk away unharmed. We are the Crescents. We are Ateez,” he turned towards Mingi and you, looking at you both with fierce sincerity. “There is no one like us. It will do you good to remember how you must– with admiration, reverence and with fear.”

There is no one like us.

An echo of the words you said to him when he almost slipped and doubted himself.

There is no one like you.

Mingi’s grip on your hand tightened as he raised your clasped hands in a salute to the Captain.

The Captain’s eyes glinted dangerously. He turned towards his crew.

“Dismissed.”

next chapter

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taglist pt 1:

#omg i had so much to say about this chapter but after reading this reblog #i am suddenly unwell #i can tell how much this chapter means to you #🥺🥺🥺#im glad this is a poly fic but i see the potential it had for just hongjoong #ANYWAYS WITH THAT SAID #the tiffany reveal is very interesting and ig they're all just pawns in president lee's game #kind of hj to offer her a second chance after she fucked up like this #but he is also doubting his choice #I LOVE THE THERE IS NO ONE LIKE YOU PART #BLESS LUNA #okay ykw #president han has to be luna's mother why else would president lee threaten to kill secretary park #but then who tf is the father #i wonder if wendy will keep her identity a secret for longer #from luna i mean #damn the prezzy is going all out huh #omg #OMG SHAREHOLDER DAMN PULLED OUT THE BIG GUNS #THEIR LITTLE MOMENT OUTSIDE WITH THE HUG??#UNWELL #THEY WERE ABOUT TO KISS STOP #chapter 14 better be fucking good (im kidding i know it will be)#omg the kids #OMG ANGRY HONGJOONG #I GOT CHILLS LITERAL CHILLS #HIS LAST LINE #HES SO HOT IM SCREAMING WITHOUT THE S

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emotionallyanaemic · 2 months ago

Text

bibliophile ⟡ j. yunho

part two

you're stressed...your study buddy has an idea.

Pairing: Yunho x Fem!Student!Reader Genre: Smut - dark twist Requested: Yes/No w.c. 5.8k Warnings: heavy on the smut, semi public sex (ish), mutual pining, food? - THE SUCKER - he does...things with it. Yunho is a FREAK. Reader is desperate for yunho dick (yes YOU, reader) Spoiler warnings are in comments if you need them. A/N: So, this is sort of two requests in one, however I don't want to disappoint anyone so I'll post it solo. I hope it's okay! <3 god deleted my ticket to heaven with this one. Requests: Open (link below)

Requests | WIPs Masterlists: BTS | ATEEZ | GOT7 | Stray Kids

Taglist: @baby-stay92 If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please DM me or click here.

You release a tired sigh and rub your eyes, throwing your pen down. It bounces off of your ridiculously thick textbook and lands on the papers scattered around your study partner.

“Ah ah. No crashing yet, we’ve got three more chapters,” Yunho says with a laugh, tapping you on the end of the nose with his own pen. You pout, making a face at him before dramatically collapsing on the table.

“I give up. You can become a lawyer, I’ll go back to making sandwiches,” you groan, muffled against pages of your future.

“I thought you liked working at the sandwich shop?”

“I did,” you reply, tilting your head to look at him. “But sandwich shops don’t pay me six figures.”

“Then stop whining,” Yunho shrugs. You grumble words unintelligible even to yourself and sit up, fixing your hair. You stretched, yawned, checked your phone for the thousandth time that evening. Finals were next week. Then there was the Bar exam. You were so close to being y/n l/n, attorney at law…but you were beginning to feel nauseous at the mere sight of words on a page.

“Wanna take a break?” Yunho suggests, leaning back to stretch. You avoid looking at the way his sweater rides up, revealing inches of what appears to be a toned belly.

“No,” you mumble, forcing yourself to look away. “If I leave this library…I think I may never return.”

Yunho chuckles and nods, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and index fingers. For a few minutes, you both just sit there, enjoying a rare moment of peace. Usually the library is filled with students, exactly like you—stressed, depressed, drowning in student debt and reading assignments.

“Yunho?” you mumble. He hums a response, looking over at you. You swallow. “If I start to cry, will you judge me?”

“Not at all,” he responds. You nod once, feeling tears burning in your eyes.

For the next hour or so, you take turns reading passages and summarizing them, going through various laws and statutes that you could barely comprehend. Your brain felt as if it might explode, and you considered calling it a night, but it was only 10 p.m. and you’d be damned if you gave out before midnight.

“What the hell are these ‘title 16 provisions?’” you scoff, crinkling your nose. “Were these even part of our assignment?”

“Let me see,” Yunho says. He scoots his chair over to your side of the table rather than just moving seats, and you feel your heart leap into your throat. And god, his arm slides over the back of your chair as he leans in to look at the tiny words on your page.

He smells like coffee and the peanut butter granola bar you shared earlier, and this close you can see that he has very light freckles on his cheeks. You kind of want him to never move.

“Ah, no this isn’t part of this assignment but we will have to know it for finals,” he says, words going in one of your ears and out the other. He begins talking about these provisions, but you must be numb to all forms of communication other than Jeong Yunho’s body heat.

“Y/n?”

“Huh?” you mumble, shaking your head. Yunho has a funny look on his face, one brow raised. Oh god. Oh god. He caught you staring like a fucking creep.

“...You good?” he chuckles. You swallow and quickly nod, brushing your hair back so fast you nearly hit him in the face.

“Yep, uh huh,” you mumble. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Oh,” he says as though relieved. “Good. Well, if you need to take a break, let me know.”

He begins to move; you panic and grab his wrist.

“Wait! You didn’t explain this part to me,” you say, pointing at a random section on the page. Yunho sits down again and tilts his head.

“You need me to explain…marital property to you?” he asks, sounding both amused and disbelieving.

Well, if you’re gonna be a bad liar, at least you’ll be persistent.

“Yes,” you nod. “Just like a refresher, you know? My brain is cooked.”

Yunho stares at you for a few seconds, and you feel your cheeks heat up. It feels like he knows something you don’t know, and you don’t like that. So you yank him back into his seat and let go of his wrist, pretending to be very interested in one of the most basic aspects of your degree.

Marital property is boring, even when the hottest guy in your class is explaining it to you. And what’s worse—he knows. You know he knows. He’s explaining basic concepts to you, and then explaining the basics of those basic concepts, all the while keeping a little smirk on his handsome face. You consider caving, thinking of any possible excuse for your behavior. You’re delirious from lack of sleep, that’s actually true. But you were too deep in this to give up now.

“That’s most of it,” Yunho finally says, long fingers splayed over the textbook. They nearly reach from one end of the open book to the other. You shiver. “I guess we should move into parental rights—”

“Yunho,” you begin with a sigh, ready to admit defeat. He smiles innocently, resting his chin in his hand.

“Yeah?”

“I—”

You freeze, having forgotten how to form sentences. Yunho’s still smiling at you, but his free hand is now resting on your thigh. You thanked the gods you’d decided to wear a skirt today.

His palm is large, warm, spanning much of the plush skin there. He’s not gripping it, but it’s still very obviously intentional. You feel your cheeks burn hot; you’re determined to remain unaffected.

“Nevermind,” you mumble. He chuckles and turns back to the page, though he doesn’t move his hand.

You don’t ask him to.

You go back to your respective chapters, thankfully far beyond the basics, but his hand stays right where it is. He even reaches over his other arm to sip his coffee, refusing to move it. Your skin burns in the shape of his fingers; you almost want to push him away simply because your body is reacting to his touch in a way that’s making you feel crazy. You’re practically feverish, just because he’s near you. Pathetic, honestly.

When you sigh and rub your eyes, those long fingers twitch, making you jump. You try to play it off, though you know he’s aware of your reaction, because he does it again. When you don’t react as dramatically, he squeezes gently.

Your knee jerks up so fast it hits the table, causing your belongings to rattle, and your heart feels like it’s going to explode. Yunho chuckles, though doesn’t move his hand. You clear your throat as though everything is normal. As though he’s not currently squeezing your upper thigh.

“Yunho,” you say quietly.

“Hm?” He doesn't bother looking up from his textbook.

“What are we doing?”

He does look up this time.

“Studying,” he says, giving you a sweet smile. You narrow your eyes.

If he was going to do this, then so were you. You were sleep deprived, numb to the world, and horny as hell. So you parted your knees.

Not much, just an inch or so, but very obvious. You didn’t miss the way Yunho’s throat worked as he swallowed, clearly not expecting the reciprocation. You go back to your textbook, but your victory is short lived, however, as his large hand slides further inward.

You’re flustered. But you’re also stubborn. So you drop your pen and look him in the eyes as you open your knees. Yunho’s gaze is steady as he slowly moves his hand, as though expecting you to stop him. You don’t.

Yunho went back to reading and you did the same, just as his pinky brushed the crease of your inner thigh. You knew you were wet, knew he could probably feel the moist heat radiating from your body behind your pink panties, but you chose to be nonchalant. Until he rubbed the back of his knuckle against your panties, over your clit.

The soft moan that escapes you is mortifying.

Yunho quickly clamps a hand over your mouth, laughing breathily as your brows pull together and you shudder. He looks as shocked as you are, though now you’re hazy, focused only on how good it felt, and wanting more.

“Shh,” he chuckles nervously, glancing around despite the fact that you’re the only ones here. “No wonder you act like you’re walking around on thin ice. You’re frustrated as hell, huh?”

“P-Please,” you whimper pitifully against his palm, though it’s muffled. He moves his hand and you grip his wrist, looking up at him. You silently communicate your needs, praying he has mercy and doesn’t force you to say it out loud. Yunho glances around one more time, licking his lips before looking down at you like a fucking steak on a platter.

“If we’re gonna do this, you gotta be quiet for me,” he murmurs. You nod quickly, gasping when he effortlessly yanks your chair closer to him. He adjusts his glasses before lowering his hand to your thighs, gently stroking them.

“Can I touch you?” he asks quietly. You open your mouth, but he presses a finger to your lips. “Quietly.”

“Yes, yes,” you whine. “T-Touch me.”

Yunho bites his lower lip, as though imagining doing much, much more than that. When he rubs your thighs again, your knees fall open and you stifle a moan behind your sleeves. Yunho smiles at the sight of you, slipping his hand between your legs again.

This time, he’s more careful, though it’s much more frustrating for you. You squirm when he strokes either side of your cunt, making a ‘v’ and squeezing your plush pussy lips between them. You moan again, loudly, and Yunho scrambles to cover your mouth.

“Baby, you’ve gotta be—”

“Quiet, I know,” you pout, gripping his wrist. “C-can’t help it…feels good.”

Yunho swallows, letting his fingers brush against you again. You manage to stay quiet this time, but your mouth opens in a silent scream.

“So fucking sensitive,” he murmurs, drawing his hand back. You nearly protest, but he presses his index finger to your clit like a button and you jolt, covering your mouth just in time. Yunho smirks.

“H-Haven’t had sex,” you say, fisting the sleeve of his sweater as he pushes again. “In m-months.”

“Why?” he asks, beginning to rub slow circles against your panties. You feel your wetness spreading beneath them, but you don’t care. You grip the edge of the table and swallow.

“Busy,” you breathe, licking your lips. Yunho’s eyes follow your tongue. You don’t notice.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Y-yeah, yes,” you nod frantically.

Yunho uses the hand between your legs to turn your entire body toward him. You want to mention how attractive that is, but he’s leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours.

His kiss is nothing like his touch; there’s nothing dirty or hurried about it. His nose brushes the crease of yours as he tilts your heads to the side, his free hand moving up to cup your cheek. It’s a sweet kiss that makes no sense when his fingers are currently resting against your panties beneath your skirt.

He seems to have forgotten what he was doing amidst your soft kisses, as you break away from his lips to impatiently bounce and whine. Yunho smirks and begins rubbing his middle finger directly over your clit, applying very little pressure. He kisses you again, and you throw your arms around his neck, trying to push your body into his. His knee prevents you from doing so.

“Nng…what are you doing?” you whine, fisting his sweater. “Wanna…wanna be in your lap.”

Your own admission makes your cheeks flush red, but you don’t care. You’re horny and your crush’s hand is between your thighs.

“Not yet, baby,” he mumbles, stealing another lazy kiss. “Wanna keep you like this. I like how desperate you are.”

“I…I’m not desperate,” you mumble. Yunho bites his lower lip and applies more pressure to your clit, you buck your hips and grip his sleeve. He’s laughing, but you don’t care, aching for more of him.

“Desperate,” he hums, pulling you in for another kiss. You don’t understand his obsession with kissing you; wasn’t he as horny as you were? But you kissed him back anyway, because you’ve had a crush on this guy since your freshman year and even the slut hormones clouding your brain couldn’t block that much out. He was a damn good kisser too, taking the lead and hardly giving you time to breathe.

In contrast to his soft mouth, Yunho’s index finger hooks your soaked panties, tugging them to the side. His finger brushes your bare cunt, though he knowingly silences your moans with a kiss.

“What can I do?” he asks once you finally break apart. You’re unwilling to let him go, however, pulling his lips back to yours..

“Don’t care,” you mumble between kisses, body buzzing with need. “Whatever you want.”

“Can I go in here?”

He prods at the needy hole between your folds and you fucking purr, clutching his sweater and pulling him close with a whine.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he laughs. He waits for you to eagerly nod, then brings his fingers to your mouth and taps your lips. “Open.”

You do as he says and he slips his fingers inside. You nearly moan around them as you instinctively suck and lick his digits; they’re long and thick, two of them practically as big as a few hookups you’ve had in the past. Yunho watches, pupils wide as you act like an obedient doll a little too eager to be fingered in a library at midnight.

When he pulls his fingers out, they’re slick and shiny with your drool, and you see him suck in air. You blush, a little embarrassed at how thorough of a job you’ve done. You expect Yunho to go beneath your skirt, but he slides his wet fingers in his mouth, eyes never leaving yours.

It’s the filthiest thing you’ve ever seen, next to the look of pure bliss in his eyes as he sucks your saliva off of his fingers and replaces it with his own. You decide then that you do not want him to finger you.

“Fuck me,” you blurt out.

You barely register what you’ve said, but you’re damn near ready to jump his bones. Yunho blinks in surprise, obviously not having expected that. He pulls his fingers out of his mouth.

“Really?” he asks. He sounds surprised for reasons you don’t understand, but you nod.

“Yeah,” you say, pulling him in for another kiss. “Want you inside me. All of you.”

“Fuck,” Yunho groans. He grabs your face in his hands and kisses you back, harder. Your hands are shaky as they go for his jeans, but then he freezes like you’ve just slapped him.

“What?” you ask, breaking the kiss. Yunho curses and rubs his face with both hands, tilting back in his chair. “What is it, yu?”

“I don’t…fuck. I don’t have a condom.”

He runs a hand through his hair like this is the biggest mistake of the century. You bite your lower lip—the idea of leaving tonight and not getting fucked by him makes you genuinely want to cry.

“We could…you know?” you mumble, face hot. “I mean, I-I’m clean. Obviously, haven’t had sex in god knows when—”

“No,” Yunho says, shaking his head. “I don’t trust myself.”

“Don’t trust yourself to what?” you frown. Yunho looks at you,

“There’s no way I’m gonna be able to make myself pull out once I’m in you,” he murmurs. “We need a condom.”

You swallow. You really shouldn’t push; but you need to hear more.

“How do you know?” you breathe, licking your lips.

“C’mere.”

“What?”

Yunho reaches over, grabbing your wrist. He pulls you into his lap and you gasp, able to feel the rigid line of his cock beneath you. But he grabs your face and pulls you in for a kiss again.

“I’ve been thinking about you for so long,” he hums, and you mewl in response, grinding down against him. He kisses you again to stifle what was no doubt a moan.

“Y-Yeah?” you manage to squeak out. Yunho nods.

“Yeah. Not gonna be able to pull out if I’m balls deep in that little cunt with you fucking crying for it like this.”

Fuck. You needed him. To be honest, with or without the condom, but if he felt it was necessary.

“Let’s go get one,” you mumble dizzily. “A c-condom. There’s a convenience store down the street.”

Yunho frowns, looking at the clock on the wall.

“The library will be locked, won’t it? Don’t we have to lock up?”

You lean back in his lap, smiling.

“Yes. But I’ve got a key,” you chime.

The moment you stepped into the store, you immediately regretted it and felt all the horny escape you. Not really, but it was embarrassing as hell, and painfully obvious as to what you were doing here. Yunho didn’t seem to mind, his hand tightly clasping yours as he guided you toward the back.

You had a little trouble finding the condoms—it made you inexplicably happy when Yunho suggested asking the clerk as he didn’t know either, even though your answer was a firm NO—but eventually found the rack next to the sex pills and cold sore cream.

Hot.

Yunho squints, and you cross your arms impatiently. You grab a box and shake it.

“It’s not a shoe store, here,” you mumble, pushing the box into his hand. Yunho glances over the label and smirks, tossing it back on the shelf. You want to ask what the hell is so funny when you’re so fucking wet your panties are sticking to your thighs, but then he finally makes a choice and puts the box in your hands. Oh.

Oh.

XXL. Makes sense.

You make him grab a few more things as though that makes the purchase less shameful. When you go to check out, you look everywhere but at the clerk—until he has the audacity to speak to the man holding your hand, very obviously purchasing condoms so the two of you can go fuck in a library.

“Finals week?” the guy says. Yunho slides his card across the counter and squeezes your hand.

“Finals week,” he nods.

“I just realized we could’ve gone to my apartment,” you say, unlocking the library door. Yunho leaned against the wall, unwrapping the candy he’d apparently decided on last minute. A red round sucker. “It’s only a few minutes away.”

You’d been given a key to the library your second year here, as you were a trusted student who often pulled all nighters—and you lived in the shitty part of campus where the power often went out. You were aware this was a total abuse of that power, but you figured if you showed Yunho to Ms. Lin, she’d understand.

“Yeah, well, my fantasies during puberty weren’t at apartments,” Yunho shrugs, holding the door for you. You head inside and find your table, where you drop the bag of your purchased items. Yunho grabs it, immediately fishing out the box.

“Very boy of you,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Let me guess, the hot librarian offers to help you find your dick? Is that part of the dewey decimal system?”

Yunho smiles. “Can we get back to you whining for me to fuck you? I liked that.”

“I was not—”

Your freakishly tall study partner grabs your wrist, tugging you against him. You swallow and look up, lips parted at the sudden contact.

“Not what?” he asks. You blink, but something is suddenly pushing at your lips. You open dumbly, feeling too obedient as you take whatever he’s putting in your mouth apparently. The taste of artificial cherry makes you grimace.

Yunho backs you up to the table, crowding you against it. He cups your face in his hands and kisses your cheek, thumbs brushing below your ears. You realize you’ve been staring at him wordlessly, sucker in your mouth.

“How’s it taste?” he asks.

“Good,” you mumble. It doesn’t taste good, you hate cherry, but if Jeong Yunho puts something in your mouth, you love it, you decide. Cherry is your new favorite flavor.

“I doubted if they sold gags, so,” he chuckles. “This’ll do.”

You frown, but he takes the stick of the sucker before you can respond.

“Open,” he says. You open.

You see his eyes twinkle, almost like he can’t believe how well you’re listening to him. If only he knew you’d do anything he asked.

Rather than pull it out, Yunho rubs the sucker around your mouth. He coats your tongue with the sticky flavor, then the inside of your cheek. By the time he pulls it out, you don’t realize you’re drooling, mouth open for him.

He pops the sucker in his own mouth, just like his fingers, and you shudder. Then he’s slipping his hands beneath your skirt, pushing your panties down your thighs.

“What are you doing?” you ask softly, more curious than concerned. Yunho takes the sucker out and kisses your cheek, then your lips. You can taste it on his tongue, just like yours.

Something sticky and wet prods at your clit and you gasp, but Yunho wraps an arm around your waist and keeps you from pulling away. You squeak helplessly in shock, caught between mind numbing bliss and disbelief. He’s rubbing the bulbous head of the sucker against your clit.

“Shh…figure it’s too risky to eat you out properly,” he hums in your ear, crushing you to his chest. You squirm, though not out of discomfort.

You have no idea how to react, hands gripping his sweater as he holds you in place. The candy feels warm and sticky, sliding through your cunt juices as he teases you with it.

“I wasn’t going to,” he says, voice strained as though he’s doing all he can to hold back. “But I saw it and…well fuck, baby, if I’m honest, I just wanted to see if you were desperate enough to try and fuck yourself on a piece of candy.”

You whine and bury your head against his shoulder, because you fucking are. You are desperate enough to try, because he slides the candy between your lips and you jolt when it brushes your hole.

“F-Fuck, Yunho,” you gasp, nails digging into fabric. You hear him laugh, and it sounds so fucking cocky, like he knew you’d end up like this, but you can’t bring yourself to care as you work yourself to ruin on a piece of candy.

He slides it beneath the hood of your clit, twisting the stick in his fingers. Your knees buckle, but he’s gripping you tight. He works it like a toy, rubbing up and down, focusing on your clit until you’re nearly there before he moves it again. It didn’t feel this big when it was in your mouth, but you’ve never wanted something inside you so bad.

“Oh my god,” you moan, thighs clamping together. It doesn’t stop his hand, or the candy, the rounded tip pushing against your hole. He starts rolling it again, and you gasp as you feel yourself snapping inside, the hot neediness spilling over the edges. You try to warn him, but only manage to squeak.

“Are you…are you cumming on a fucking lollipop?” Yunho asks, voice filled with awe. You nod.

Your ears ring, your vision blurs, and you feel something pushing against your mouth. It’s Yunho’s hand you realize, but you can’t stop, can’t stop shaking and screaming and there’s something wet on your cheeks.

You haven’t had a proper orgasm in months, maybe even a year, and were it not for Yunho holding you up, you’re pretty damn sure you would’ve fainted.

When you open your eyes, Yunho is laughing quietly and hugging you tight, rubbing your back.

“Fuck, are you okay?” he asks, sounding concerned and impressed. You sniff and nod, using the back of your hand to wipe your cheeks. Yunho cups your face and uses his thumbs to clean you up. You were crying.

“I’m sorry, jesus, I didn’t think it was that bad,” he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. You realize then that the damn sucker is in his mouth.

You whine, yanking him forward until you’re kissing him. It’s clumsy, but he takes the sucker out and tosses it on the table behind you. You begin working desperately at his jeans, and hear him release a cherry flavored groan.

“Still gonna let me fuck you?” he asks, keeping his lips against yours.

“God yes,” you say in a shaky voice. “P-Please.”

“I can do that,” Yunho breathes. He places a large hand on the softness of your belly, gently pushing you back.

Yunho towers over you, one hand moving to cup your thigh and open you up so he can stand between them. The other goes to his jeans, and you find yourself biting your lip and digging your nails into your palms.

XXL?

“Since you look like you’re about to fucking eat me,” Yunho says with a laugh, “why don’t you do it? Hm? When’s the last time you put a condom on?”

You feel yourself blush at having been caught, but sit up to snatch the box near you.

“Asshole,” you mutter, refusing to give him a proper answer.

Your hands are too shaky to open the box, so you end up ripping it down the side, condoms spilling out. You sigh anyway and grab one, slipping the foil packet between your teeth. You move your hands to his jeans, and realize that for the first time…you’re nervous.

Until now your brain had been sex focused; it still was, but your post orgasm clarity made you realize how fucking desperate you looked. You roughly popped open the button of his jeans.

Yunho was so damn tall that his hips were practically level with your face whilst you were on the short table. This meant that, as soon as you’d tugged his boxers down, you suddenly found yourself face to face with the biggest cock you’ve ever seen.

XXL.

For a moment you were too dumbstruck—why did they bother sculpting the soft dicks when the hard ones could look like…this? All veins and smooth skin and a pink mushroom head that looked perfectly designed for…use. You wanted it in your mouth. But he hadn’t technically put his mouth on you, and you were both in a library, and right now you were starting to get a little shaky at the idea of this thing going anywhere near your neglected pussy, so you swallowed your resolve and took the condom from between your teeth.

Yunho watched as you struggled to tear open the packet, biting your lower lip in frustration. You finally got it open, sighing as you placed the rubber at the tip. He grabbed your hands then, and you paused. Shit. Were you doing this wrong?

“We don’t have to do anything,” he mumbles softly, cupping your chin. “You wanna stop right now? We stop. Not trying to ruin the mood, just want you to know it’s okay.”

You shake your head.

“I’m okay, thanks,” you say quietly. “It’s just…fuck, Yunho.”

He laughs, his little ego having returned just a bit, you wanted to roll your eyes and kiss him at the same time. He bites his lower lip and strokes his thumb over yours.

“I’ll be gentle,” he hums. “You can take it for me.”

Fuck. Yes, you absolutely can.

Yunho guides you onto your back, though you settle on your elbows, propped up for him. You watch as he squeezes the rest of the lube from the packet onto his cock, giving a few tugs before nodding at you. You weren’t sure if you were excited or scared, but there were two heartbeats and one was between your legs.

He pushes your legs apart and guides his cock forward. You lick your lips and let your knees fall open, bunching your skirt around your waist, offering yourself to him. Yunho sucks in air through his teeth and curses.

“So fucking pretty,” he hums, supporting his weight on one palm as he brushes his cock against you. You shiver as the cold lube is smeared around your sensitive cunt. “Knew it from the day I saw you freshman year in a skirt just like this one. Thought I was gonna die when you smiled at me.”

“I didn’t know you remembered,” you mumbled. You were so nervous your first day, which wasn’t helped by the hot guy who approached you and asked if you were lost. Apparently you could stop feeling ashamed for having mind fucked him back then.

“Of course I do,” Yunho chuckles, teasing the head of his cock up and down your slit. “So cute, how you blushed when I talked to you. You still do that, you know.”

“Shut up,” you mutter. Yunho laughs, then licks his lips.

“Gonna put it in now. Tell me if it’s too much,” he says. You nod.

The swollen head of his cock catches on your hole, and Yunho uses his weight to lean forward and urge himself inside. It aches a bit, not just from the size but fuck it’s been so long since you’ve had something more than your own fingers in you. Your thoughts go from not so bad to okay damn to holy fuck there’s more? Because he keeps pushing and you keep taking, and you feel every inch of him filling your insides while his body offers more.

“Fuck, baby. Fuck,” Yunho whines, still gripping the base of his cock as he guides it into you. Your head falls back and you curse at nothing; his cock is somehow too big but perfectly sized at the same time and you’ve never felt so god damn full. “Look at you, that needy little cunt is swallowing me babygirl. Keep fucking taking it.”

His words make you dizzy, and you whine when he’s finally fully seated. You feel heavy, pinned to the table, as though you can’t move. You reach down and feel the rigid sides of his cock, shocked to feel just how much is inside you.

“How’s that, beautiful?” Yunho asks. He places both palms on the table, either side of your body, and you tense. If he started thrusting, it would fuck you up.

“Good,” you say, nodding. “Big, but good.”

“Knew you could take it. 'm gonna fuck you now. Stop me if you need to," he murmurs. You can take it.

"I can take it," you nod. He smiles, kissing you once, then twice.

You squeak as Yunho begins fucking you properly, ploughing into you hard and fast, moving with need and instinct rather than reason.

The table shakes with his heavy thrusts, pistoning into you so hard it makes you dizzy. You’re surprised you can take him like this, able to feel every inch of him when he’s seated inside, pressing deliciously on your walls.

Yunho ruts into you like an animal, unfortunately one with a very big cock as he struggles to keep every inch buried inside you. He wasn’t lying about not pulling out, as he refused to do so even when thrusting. You had no room to breathe, no chance for air, as he fucked into you repeatedly while trying to go deeper.

You’re at a loss for words, lips parted, eyes following his expression and movements. He’s desperate in his own way, obviously holding back, though you don’t know from what. You consider encouraging him to let go—until he groans loudly and snaps his hips, stealing the breath from your lungs.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby. So fucking…need you to hold still for me and take it,” he breathes. "Hold still. A-Almost done, fuck, keep taking it so good for me."

You do as he asks without question, clinging to his shoulders, nose to nose with Jeong Yunho as he forces his cock as far as it can go in your body and begins to pump a thin condom full of cum that should be you.

Yunho takes a few moments to breathe, arms shaking where he holds himself up on the table. You run a hand through his damp hair, watching as he moans softly and leans into your touch.

“You okay?” you giggle. He nods, tilting his head to kiss your palm.

“Just…You’re so fucking perfect. Want more of you if you’ll let me, wanna make you feel good every day," he says.

You blink at the surprising tenderness of his words, feeling they were more than sex related. You wanted to ask questions, but right now, you were both sticky with sweat and fucked out on a library table that would need to be wiped down with holy water.

You separated, which left you shuddering from the sudden cold emptiness inside of you. Yunho exhaled sharply, waiting a few moments before removing the condom and tying it off.

You both cleaned up and fixed your clothes as best you could—though you stuffed your panties in your bag because the sticky wetness was a little much.

“Do you want to come over?” you ask, making sure your skirt is covering your ass. “You know. To clean up.”

Yunho smiles, which makes you smile, and then you’re blushing and cursing at yourself. He nods and brushes your cheek with his knuckle.

“Sounds good,” he hums. You beam and gesture for him to follow you. Yunho watches as you collect your things with shaky legs, smiling to himself.

You were so damn pretty. Intelligent. He’d noticed right away that you were someone he was going to want.

He grabbed his own bag and walked past the table, pausing as he stepped on something.

The sucker.

You crinkle your nose when you notice it, too.

“Guess we need to throw that away,” you mumble. He nods, bending down and picking it up. He holds it in his hand for a few seconds.

What a good idea it had been.

He slips it into his pocket, for the memories.

Memories like, your name. Your favorite color. That skirt you wore on your first day. Apartment 2B, where you lived. You like the right side of the bed, don’t you? Yunho likes the left side.

The last man you slept with—11 months, 1 week, and 4 days ago.

Yunho hated that one.

You had waffles for breakfast this morning. You usually have oatmeal. You sleep with a nightlight on.

You’re afraid of the dark.

“You coming?” you ask with a shy smile, pausing at the door. Yunho looks up. You didn’t see him slip the sucker in his pocket. You never notice things like that.

“Yeah,” he says. He follows you out the door and waits for you to lock up. Then, without thinking too much of it, he takes your hand. You don’t pull away. Your hand is small compared to his, and he squeezes it. You squeeze back.

You like hot showers.

You sound so pretty when you moan, especially when you think you’re alone.

Your bathroom window is never locked.

You're never alone.

Yunho has a good memory when it comes to you.

#oh my god??? the ending???#ahahaha im fine #totally fine #FUCKSKSHAGSGJWJDHDBS #this was amazing #im tweaking #ateez x reader #ateez smut #yunho smut #yunho x reader

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emotionallyanaemic · 2 months ago

Text

temptation ⟡ j. yunho

Part One

Yunho has you. It's not enough.

Pairing: Yunho x Girlfriend!Reader Genre: Smut, dark, twist w.c. 3k Requested: Yes - thank you for the response to bibliophile my lovelies ❣️Warnings: somnophilia, noncon, unprotected sex, Yunho is actually obsessed w you as usual, pussy drunk Yunho, size difference, unhealthy obsession A/N: I wasn't going to do a part two, but I suddenly had the idea and...yeah. MIND THE WARNINGS.

You can technically read this as a standalone, but it'll make more sense if you read part one (Bibliophile) first.

Home | Masterlists | Lovelynauts

Lovelynauts: because this is dark and potentially triggering, I do not want to tag my lovelies. I may add a question to my taglist form for the future, I apologize.

The scene is familiar, comforting.

You’re asleep on your bed, the one you now shared with Yunho. You sleep on your stomach with one leg up—sometimes he swears you do this on purpose, just for him. Because it drives him insane, waking up and seeing you like that, as though you’re begging him to fuck you.

He used to do this every night, before the two of you had moved in together. He’d stand over you while you slept, watching you, wondering what you’d do if you woke up. Would you let him show you he can make you feel good? Would you be afraid? Probably. You might try to tell him no, you’d be too scared to relax, but he’d show you. Just like he does these days.

Because you’re his.

Not his friend. Not his peer.

His.

You belong to him, you come home to him, you sleep beside him. You love him enough to let him do things to you that most would find concerning, like waking you up with his face between your thighs, bending you over the nearest surface when the urge to be inside of you is too great.

What if he fucked you now? What if he slid his cock inside of you?

You’d wake up in pain, that much he knew—it was hard enough as it was fitting it in on the best of days. You took it for him as best you could any other day, biting your lower lip and wincing. He knew it was hurting you.

That’s why he’d go harder, deeper, faster. He wanted you to take it until you couldn’t, yelping and grabbing his wrist wherever he was holding you, telling him it hurts, he needs to slow down.

Because then he could love you, condition your pretty brain to associate him with pain relief, comfort. He was going too fast, he was hurting you, now he’s apologizing and kissing you and rubbing it better—literally, until you were cumming on his fingers.

Yunho palmed at his covered cock—he was already hard, just thinking of you, just watching you. He could wake you up right now, pin you down and tell you he wanted to fuck you. You’d whine in protest, but ultimately, you’d let him slide a pillow beneath your hips so he could wreck your tired body.

Because that’s what you did. You loved him. You were his.

He didn’t want your soft compliance right now though. What would you do if he took you instead?

He doesn’t think you’d fight him too much; maybe whining, shoving at him, finally giving in because you'll do anything for him.

Yunho sighs—he should just wake you up. It was less risky, you’d be annoyed but soft for him, he could do what he wanted to you. But he was only halfway on the bed, one knee beside your hip, when a thought hit him.

You, cute and sleepy, waking up to find cum in your panties. You’d know immediately—you’d be angry, probably afraid. But Yunho would spin it beautifully.

You wanted it. He woke you up last night and begged you to let him fuck you. You’ll be confused, still somewhat irritated, but he’d get away with it.

He’s too excited now, imagining doing this tonight…and tomorrow night. Marking you with his cum first thing in the morning; you’ll think hard throughout the day, trying to remember him fucking you, but you’ll never be able to.

Yunho groans aloud, having to quiet himself as he looks down at your smaller form.

You haven’t moved from that position, with only thin panties keeping your pussy hidden from him. Why do you have to wear these? So easy for him to push aside.

Yunho positions himself above you, one hand keeping himself supported, the other hovering over your body. He moves it to your ass, able to feel the heat coming from your body.

“Always warm for me,” Yunho hums, sliding a finger over the clothed crease of your cunt, stopping over your clit. He knew your body as well as his own. He knew that applying a slight amount of pressure here would make you shudder, and it did, before slow circles woke your body, but not you. He almost wanted to wake you, for you to look up and see him doing this. But he continues his ministrations, having to bite his lip as he feels your panties getting damp.

He stops when you twitch in your sleep, then slips two fingers inside your panties, brushing them over your cunt.

Fuck.

He wants to do it now, doesn’t care about waking you. You’re asleep, and yet you’re this fucking wet for him? So sticky and sweet on his fingers?

He eagerly slips them into his mouth, groaning quietly around them as he sits back. He continues to wet his fingers as his other hand begins to push his sweatpants down, though he has to pause to rub at the painfully hard cock between his toned thighs.

You’re lucky you’re asleep. Lucky he has at least an ounce of morals. Lucky he views you as more than just a hole. He’d never let you go, keep you tied up here like his pretty fuck doll, filling you with cum over and over again.

He goes back for more, sliding his fingers around your cunt before wetting them again, drooling at the familiar taste of you.

Yunho wants to eat you properly, wants to make you cum all over his tongue, but that’s not what he’s doing tonight. He shoves his boxers down, hissing in pain and relief as his restricted cock springs free. He remembers the look on your face when you first saw it—fear. You knew he could’ve fucked you up that night, but he didn’t. You were sweet and soft and so pretty, so good, opening for him and taking it.

“Gonna make sure this pretty cunt is fed,” Yunho whispers, readjusting himself above you. His cock leaks precum, and he spreads it on the outside of your wet panties. The thought of you both being so ready, despite the fact that you didn’t even know it, makes him shiver as he does it again. He rubs his cock up and down the soaked material, watching your sticky juices cover him. He rolls his thumb over the tip, slipping it into his mouth to taste your bodies mixed together.

He knew he’d only be able to toy with you, as putting more than an inch inside would no doubt wake you up. He whines runs his fingers over the outside of your panties first, before slipping them underneath.

You were so wet, so ready for his cock, as much as he wanted to fuck you. But he can’t, so he steels himself and uses his fingertips to part your cunt.

For a few minutes, he simply watches them move beneath your panties, rubbing gently against your clit. You jolt in your sleep once again, and he knows he’s pushing it, but he wonders if he can make you cum like this.

The thought of your pussy being creamy and wet around the head of his cock, basically sucking the cum out of him…it was enough to convince him (as if anything involving you and your pretty cunt took much convincing). Yunho mounts your sleeping form, gently adjusting himself so as not to disturb you. He slips his fingers between your bodies, finding your cunt once more.

“Shh…” he whispers, using his thumb to circle your clit. “That’s it. Be still baby, gonna make you feel so good…gonna make you dream of getting fucked."

He sighs as he pushes and rubs at your clit, wishing he could suck it into his mouth and watch you shake like you often did. He’s barely satisfied with this, but when you release a soft moan, he has to pull his hand back and remind himself not to shove his cock in you.

Yunho licks his lips and watches your face, rubbing your clit again. Your inner thighs are shiny and sticky, there’s a wet spot beneath you, but he doesn’t care about anything other than your pretty noises.

You do it again, your brows coming together, your lips parting.

“Yeah? Feels good when I touch you?” he whispers. “Can you cum for me baby? Gonna need you wet and soft if I’m gonna get my cock in there.”

You don’t respond of course, but Yunho’s own words send a shudder through him. He swallows and does his best to focus, rubbing your clit and teasing his cock.

After minutes of having to hold himself back, listening to your soft, sweet moans, he watches in awe as you suddenly squeak, your entire body seizing beneath him. He gasps and holds you down so you don’t wake yourself, feeling every inch of your form trembling as you violently orgasm in your sleep. It’s the most delicious thing he’s ever seen, and he tells himself that next time, he’ll use his tongue to make you cum, to taste all of you.

“Fuuuuck baby. Fuck. So hot,” he breathes, feeling beads of sweat forming at his brow from working himself up. He shakes his head and looks down at you in disbelief, so proud of you, proud of himself. He curses and watches you melt into the sheets, your legs relaxed, open for him on your tummy. He pushes your knee further up and uses his thumb to hook into your panties, pulling them aside.

“Holy shit,” Yunho chokes.

Your cunt, all plush and ripe from him playing with you, shiny and glistening and coated with your excitement. He whines like a dog and licks his lips, fisting his cock and bucking into his hand. He felt desperate, knowing he didn’t have long before he’d do whatever his dick told him to.

Yunho keeps a hand splayed on your ass, thumb still holding your panties aside. He takes his cock in his other hand and squeezes, trying to calm himself, to keep himself from ruining this. The idea of what he was about to do to you should make him feel some sort of guilt, but there was none. Only desire, need, possession, and love for you.

Keeping his hips back, he rubs his cock right against the center of your pussy, his eyes rolling back as your swollen cunt lips part for him. He exhales sharply, watching your face as he rubs the head against your clit, brows drawing together when you twitch. You were so sensitive.

“Almost, baby,” he hums, sliding his cock down your slippery folds, notching the head in your hole. “I’m here, ‘m gonna make you take it, yeah? Gonna wake up wet and sticky.”

Yunho eases the tip inside, hips twitching and nearly causing him to plunge into you. You’re so tight, so wet, so hot for him, and fuck, he didn’t want to stop.

Once the first inch of his massive cock had disappeared inside of you, Yunho forced himself to stop, taking his hands off you. The snap of your panties against his swollen shaft made him hiss, his tongue finding the corner of his mouth as he eased them off again. He’d never felt so needy, which was saying a lot for him, but stopping himself after the tip was almost too much for him to handle. He was either going to fuck you or cum, so he moved his fingers back to your cunt, first tracing your stretched hole around him before resting on your clit.

“Need you to cum again, baby,” he groans, trying to satisfy himself by fisting the rest of his cock. “Gonna fuck you too hard if you don’t…be a good girl, hm? Squeeze my cock with that pretty body.”

He began circling your clit and felt your cunt flutter around his cock; Yunho whined, racing against your body and his in order to do what he’d intended.

The second time, your pussy clenched, and he unintentionally rutted his hips into you. Yunho froze as a few more inches slipped inside. You visibly winced, though otherwise, didn’t respond to the intrusion. It was then he knew he was done for, knowing you could take at least 6 inches before waking.

He sighed and gripped your ass, keeping you open as he began to thrust. It was controlled, restrained, but it was more pussy than he’d had minutes ago, and he let his head fall back in bliss.

How could you feel this good? How could you be his? You were so willing for him, even in your sleep, letting him do these things to you whenever he wanted.

Yunho rested on his knees, beginning to pant as he fucked you lazily, desperately. A little more than half of his cock was going inside, likely thanks to your messy orgasm and his fingers.

“Such a good girl,” he rasped, looking down at you again. “Taking so much, can you take more? Huh? I wanna cum deep in your pretty little cunt, baby. Can I put it in you? Gonna be my sleepy girl all full of my cum?”

What was 6 inches soon became all of him, and before he could stop himself, he had both hands on your hips, fucking into you deep and slow. He watched his cock slide all the way in, making you shudder, before he pulled it out to the tip.

“That’s it, my sweet little slut,” he groaned, leaning over you. “Take it, want you to wake up and still feel my cock buried inside.”

He was beginning to lose himself, damp hair sticking to his forehead, eyes dark as he took what he wanted. He thought of before, when you weren’t his, when he couldn’t have you. Watching you fuck men who couldn’t figure out where to touch you. He knew it all, knew every inch of you. Knew what you wanted, what you needed.

You released a quiet squeak, and the noise made him more desperate rather than telling him to hit the brakes.

“So good, so fucking good, baby. Watch this pretty cunt sucking my cock inside. Can’t wait to see you in the morning, ‘s gonna hurt. Gonna know I took you like this, made my little slut take all of my cock in her sleep.”

It was a miracle you were still asleep, but he didn’t care, rutting hard into you each time he bottomed out. He leaned over your form and fucked you like a dog, ramming his cock as deep as it could possibly go.

He wanted to do so much to you, to grab your hair, wake you up with his hand over your mouth, cock against your cervix, but he was intoxicated by the sight of your soaked pussy taking him. He dropped both hands to your cunt, spreading your lips to watch himself slide in until his balls were flush against your clit.

“My good girl,” he hummed, voice strained. “Fuck baby, love you so much…my girl, you’re my fucking girl, yeah? No one knows you like this, like me, no one loves you like me. No one's gonna touch you again, 'm not gonna let anyone near you."

Yunho is mumbling, whispering, thrusting desperately inside your velvety cunt and fisting at the sheets so as not to bruise you instead.

“Oh fuck, gonna cum, baby. Gonna fuck it in deep, yeah? Want…nng…fuck, want you to hurt baby, want it too deep, g-gonna…need you to fucking take it, hold still, fuck babygirl…”

Yunho’s rambling turned into nonsense as he came, hard, still clumsily thrusting. He groaned and gripped the sheets so hard his knuckles turned white, biting his lower lip and finishing himself off with shallow thrusts until his softening cock slipped out of you.

He’d never fucked himself out like this before, not without you teasing him, anyway, but he collapsed to his side, panting, trying to catch his breath.

He did it, fucked his girl like this, claimed her, proved she was desperate for his cock even in her sleep. By some fucking miracle—you still were asleep, and post-nut clarity Yunho found himself simultaneously amazed and relieved that you’d managed not to stir. You must’ve been exhausted.

He finally sat up, running a hand through his sweaty hair. You somehow looked blissfully fucked out, and the sight made him grin, even though you had no idea what he’d done to you, for you. Your pretty cunt was swollen from the abuse; he'd have to use his mouth tomorrow, make you feel good and ease the pain.

He kissed your bare hip and slipped your panties back into place, stretched out as they were, groaning quietly as his cum began leaking out of your pussy. He used his thumb against the material to push it back inside, rolling it around and briefly considering fingering it deeper into you. But you were already going to be raw, and he didn't want to push his luck.

He cleaned himself up, then returned to you, staring at you for a few moments before slowly climbing into bed. He wanted to hold you, but knew you’d immediately feel the ache of his cock if he woke you up now, so he simply settled on his back. He looked over at you one last time, smiling to himself as he leaned over and gently kissed you.

He couldn’t wait to see the look on your face, to see you scramble to think and process things you couldn’t remember. He loved you so much. You were his, his pretty girl.

But he was yours, too. Your good boy.

So easy to tease.

So easy to tempt.

You scoot a little closer. Yunho stiffens, then relaxes as he realizes you're probably just seeking his warmth. Of course he puts an arm around you; he kisses your forehead and bites his lip, thinking about how well you took him tonight, even while asleep. He thinks about what else he could do to you.

You think about it, too—with a sleepy smile on your face and his cum between your thighs.

#im not for noncon like this BUT #i am all for somno AND THIS WAS SO DELICIOUS #yn not waking up throughout the whole thing is unrealistic but I'll take it lmao #(and the thought that maybe she let him? grrr)#anyways im swooning and screaminh #help #yunho smut #yunho x reader #ateez smut

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emotionallyanaemic · 2 months ago

Text

The Leaders | Chapter XII

"lies, control, rules, numb, hatred, emptiness."

masterlist

ot8!ateez x f!reader, mafia au

chapter warnings: drinking, smoking, illegal businesses, mentions of war/military, drugs, gangs and corruption, things get fluffy with jongho and even angstier with hj, mentions of y/n's mother and resemblance.

chapter wc: 12.4k

chapter synopsis: you meet assemblyman wi with hongjoong and jongho and fail to convince him to join you since he claims that his hands are tied by a threat. he tells you the president lee has his eyes on you and you interpret it as a warning. you ask winter to accept secretary park’s invitation asking you to meet him. at a business gathering at ju residence, you remind assemblyman kim of his friends and foes. president lee makes a surprise appearance and you overhear him saying something about your mother. hongjoong goes to sector 4 to follow a tip regarding tiffany and you meet inspector gong and trade information which opens a new path.

prev chapter recap: you continue to deal with clients at the warehouse with wooyoung and mingi and the two of you go to the beach to have a few moments of peace before you return to the main office. you meet ji chang wook of the sirens with hongjoong and he offers to help resume the weapons channel if you mess with the elites, starting by getting assemblyman wi on your side before president lee does so he does not get the military advantage. hongjoong has a private word with mr. ji and you wonder if he and seonghwa are hiding something from you. you meet the new informant renjun who reports that the drugs are ready to be transported to a safe location from the mx warehouse. when you meet seonghwa, he sees through you and assures you that they will tell you if the information they are hiding is worth something. while that doesn’t convince you, seonghwa’s romantic plans for the night sure helps with your peace of mind. when you return to the warehouse, things start to go wrong as mx warehouse gets bombed and the informants duo reveal that president lee has dispatched a troop for strictland.

You were about sixteen when you first heard the dreadful sound of the sirens that warned the citizens of Eden of a threat to their homeland.

Every day following that, you would sit in front of the television or grab the newspaper to read about the consequences of that siren. A lot of people left their homeland for good, immigrating to Wonderland or Utopia, or even going as far as Mist Island. Those who remained in Eden shifted sectors, moving as far away from Sector 5 and Sector 4 as possible since the entirety of Sector 5 bordered Strictland and a small portion of Halaland.

The north section of the Sector 4 border also met with Strictland, though separated by mountains. Anyone who thought that the mountains would not become a bloody warzone was proven wrong, for the mountains took the brunt of the war that lasted a period of about 4 years.

When the over-17 law was enforced by the military, you had just turned 18. You heard news and accounts of the army scrounging the streets of the eight sectors for anyone who was 17 years or older. You heard all about the broken families and the fear that spread across Eden. The fate of Eden rests on the shoulders of teens. You prepared yourself to receive the letter to announce your drafting in the military.

Every doorbell made you feel like a stray cat that had just been caught sneaking in places it should not be. It took you a few months to realise that no one was coming for you, and not for your brother Sunghoon who was older than you by 2 years. You were not going to receive any letters or soldiers at your doorsteps to take you away from your family.

No one was coming for the kids of the elites. No one came for the privileged Edenary citizens. These kids would not be facing the war or its consequences.

Upon digging, you learned that the only Edenary civilians who joined the war did so voluntarily. The rest were pardoned because of their connections. If not, a bribe was enough. Some parents went as far as to change their childrens’ birth years in order to avoid scrutiny from the rest. You confronted Secretary Park, your father, about this matter and he only dismissed your questions.

When you told him that you would like to volunteer in the war, he made you question your reasons. Did you expect to get some special treatment if you made it back alive? Were you joining because you felt guilty, or were you atoning for sins that were not even your own?

But eventually, Secretary Park gave in and decided to let you go, though he pulled some strings to have you be a member of Captain Yoon’s platoon which was serving to defend Sector 4– not the best option, but still enough to hopefully keep you alive. You received training for just a short period of time before eventually serving as a medical assistant.

A considerable amount of time had passed since that war, but in retrospect, it was starting to feel like yesterday. People had just recovered from the trauma of the previous war. Eden was still strengthening its defences. While the sirens did not ring in the air this time, you could hear them in the back of your head.

The panic that would have followed the sirens was starting to spread either way, with the people being restless and anxious. The public was aware that things were not looking good. This time, the Eden citizens were stuck here– no other country was willing to accept any more immigrants. At least not now when there was such ominous ambiguity in the air and the neighbouring countries had to pick their sides lest another war in the continent break out.

Most notably, this time the president of Eden was not fighting for its people. The people were on their own, deluded by the idea that President Lee was perhaps making the right decision by sending troops for Strictland.

Perhaps, they weren’t deluded. Perhaps, they simply hoped that that was the case.

“So it’s come to this,” Hongjoong announced with sobriety as he entered Room no.1 at the Crescent Bar where the rest of you were waiting. A chorus of sighs and mutters sounded across the room as he took a seat at the end of the table, appearing weary.

“I didn’t think we’d witness a second war in our lifetime, but it appears I might be wrong,” Seonghwa sighed deeply, rubbing his face.

“Can’t call it war right now,” San reminded the eldest. “But it sure is looking like it. I genuinely don’t think it’s going to be another war, but maybe I’m just being optimistic.”

“There might not be a battle, but it’s a war alright,” Hongjoong countered and San agreed. “And wars are not to be taken lightly. President Lee has made a stupid move cornering Halaland like this. It’s as if he aims to expose Eden to its enemies. First, he stops the weapons production and channels, and now he’s sent a declaration of war to Halaland.”

“I can’t tell what he’s planning,” Wooyoung’s expressions were taut. “If you really want a fight, you have to be well-prepared. President Lee does not seem well-prepared.”

“He is,” Yunho quipped, “Look at the order of the events. He met with Major Sung of Strictland. He’s obviously partnered with him to grant Strictland freedom– Major Sung is notorious for his ‘Free Strictland’ sentiments. Once Strictland is free, the nuclear base can run however the elites want it to with the loyal Halaland officials out of the story.”

“That makes sense,” Mingi agreed. “But then… why mess with the weapons channels? Even if he’s the president, he must be aware how much the channel has helped strengthen Eden’s defences.”

“I believe that was personal,” Hongjoong commented, exchanging a subtle glance with Seonghwa. “Perhaps, a warning. We strengthened Eden’s defences with the channel but also provided our allies with the weapons. It’s time to see if the allies remain loyal to us.”

“There are still missing pieces though,” you began. “If it was personal, that was awful timing. Is it only because of silver light?”

“Probably also because we’re on to the president’s real intentions regarding the recent events,” Jongho replied. “They’ve also got eyes on us. They know that we’re gathering allies and honestly? We’re a considerable force. President Lee is probably getting queasy, if deploying the police to quell the protests across all sectors isn’t a sign that he’s anxious.”

You nodded– perhaps, the Crescents were a considerable force in the president’s eyes now. At least with the recent alliances.

Yeosang cleared his throat. “President Son informed us that the Sirens would be taking an aggressive approach towards President Lee’s recent stunt. It could get ugly but they’re prepared. It’s going to serve as a distraction while President Son makes sure that silver light is transported and stored safely in the new location.”

“He also mentioned that we should try and contact General Wi,” San added. “His loyalty lies with power, and whoever can boost his presidential ratings and give him an upper hand earns his alliance. President Lee can only earn General Wi’s loyalty if he promises him his seat, and we all know now that he would never do that.”

“Okay, well, let’s plan then,” Hongjoong began, taking ideas and recommendations from the whole group and considering everyone’s opinions. There were probably things that only he and Seonghwa were aware of, seeing how they stuck next to each other and took breaks to discuss the course of action within themselves.

You were sitting between Yunho and Yeosang. Yunho and Jongho had just come back from Edenary for this meeting, which was originally to discuss the bombing at the MX warehouse but with the threat of the war looming over your heads yet again, you had a lot more to factor in. You got a detailed account of what happened at the MX warehouse from Yeosang, as well as his meeting with ex-President Son which happened a few days ago.

Hongjoong also warned everyone about the possibility of the mole being closer than they thought– really, it was a reminder. It left a heavy feeling in the room since nobody wished to doubt their closest friends but were forced to.

Seonghwa tapped on the table to catch everyone’s attention. Once the chattering died, he cleared his throat and got ready to reveal his plan.

“I think now is a great time to make unexpected allies,” he started and you agreed. “Especially in Edenary. Firstly, we need to try and get Assemblyman General Wi on our side. His alliance with President Son hurts everyone.”

“Agreed,” Wooyoung said. “Even if he does not shake hands with us, we just need to make sure he is not President Lee’s ally.”

Seonghwa nodded. “Hongjoong is our best bet when it comes to winning over General Wi, so he’ll be making a trip to Edenary himself. Luna, you should accompany him. You might want to see Assemblyman Kim again and see if he finally thinks it’s time to seek refuge in the shadows.”

“I can do that,” you agreed. “But I can’t guarantee he’ll be much help. He’s probably already seen a rise in his ratings with President Lee’s recent move.”

“As long as he knows we’re still here if he needs us, and he might need us now more than ever,” Jongho commented. “Now would be a nice time to start exposing the Strictland programme to the public and President Lee’s involvement in it. Not just rumours like we just did on our previous trip.”

“Make sure to lay low,” Hongjoong instructed. “You’re coming with us, by the way. We need you to grease some palms.”

Jongho smirked, making you chuckle lightly. It seemed to be something he was the best at, and you had heard that he had a lot of connections in Edenary. Probably because he had bribed most of them at some point in the Crescents’ career. Wooyoung, who was sitting next to him tried to smooch his cheek out of affection but Jongho smoothly dodged that, poking his stomach and making him groan loudly.

“I think now is also a good time to look into the Sirens and how they operate,” Seonghwa continued while the youngest two jabbed each other. One glare from Hongjoong had them straightening though. “The Sirens take their protests very seriously. I’ve heard that they basically raided the President’s recent address at Eden Hall. They had to deploy the police force and it got a little ugly, but it’s got people questioning if President Lee is a good man.”

“And that’s enough. While the seed of doubt is in their hearts, we should attack from all sides and corner President Lee,” Hongjoong clapped his hand in conclusion. “We don’t have to expose him ourselves. We just need to set the wheels into motion, yeah?”

A chorus of agreements sounded across the room and Seonghwa got ready to leave for a meeting with San. San winked at you before leaving, promising to catch you before you would leave for Edenary. Hongjoong also left for some business with Mingi. Before you could get up to leave yourself, Yunho intertwined his hand with yours, looking towards Yeosang who was seated at your right.

“Would you like to come over?”

“Tonight?” You asked and he nodded. You looked at Yeosang who was smiling and nodding in assurance. “Uh, sure?”

Yeosang laughed. “Get your head out of the gutter. We’re only hanging out.”

“You tell him,” you pointed at Yunho with your thumb and he laughed loudly. “He can’t keep his hands off me.”

“You started it the last time!” He retorted in mock hurt. You only rolled your eyes in response but agreed to join them after washing up at your own apartment. Winter could drop you at their house.

When you reached home and informed Wendy about your sleepover at Yunho’s, she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively but only cheered for you. She didn’t mind you staying over at Yunho’s– that is what you supposed she thought since she was only aware that you had something going on with Yunho specifically. She wasn’t one to probe or judge, so you supposed that you would one day like to tell her about your relationship with the boys. You would like to.

You told Winter to get comfortable while she waited for you to get ready to leave, but when you came out of the shower, she was still standing by the window, a little tense. Wendy didn’t seem to mind Winter. She shared her biscuits with you both while she told you about her work politics.

Winter seemed to be a little uncomfortable, though. You reckoned that it was because she was just not used to being somewhere where she didn’t necessarily have to be on duty. No amount of asking her to relax worked. Wendy was aware that she was your ‘bodyguard’ and she understood that the Crescents were protective because things were not looking good. That didn’t stop her from joking about how you could probably afford to move out of this shoddy apartment by now.

You told her that if you were going to find a better apartment, you would be taking her with you. Wendy didn’t need to keep living in this apartment by herself. That turned into a joke of how the three of you could probably afford a house in a nicer residential area. Winter only passed a small smile in agreement and you teased her about it all the way until you reached Yunho’s house.

It wasn’t your first time at Yunho and Yeosang’s house, but it was the first time the both of them were present. You rang the doorbell and Winter told you that she would leave once you went inside. You folded your arms, feeling just a bit awkward in your night clothes out in the open like this, even though there wasn’t a soul out in this street.

Yeosang opened the door and your mouth fell open at the sight of him, clad in black silk pajamas. You made an impressed face, waving at Winter to signal her that she could leave.

“A nightwear befitting of Mr. Kang of the Crescent Company.”

“Yeah?” He scoffed. “I pulled out my best one.”

You chuckled darkly and Yeosang let you in, asking if you would like some tea or drinks since you already had dinner. You did not want to wake up with a hangover so you agreed to have some tea. While he went to prepare it in the kitchen, you found your way to Yunho who seemed to be zoning out in front of the television with the news on, in navy cotton pajamas. You fixed your black pyjama robe before sitting down.

“Someone looks tired for once,” you commented as you snuggled next to him, stealing his blanket. He grunted lightly but shared the blanket with you, switching the channel to some drama.

“Even I gotta relax once in a while. I’ve not had one moment of peace ever since we made the deal with that Tiffany woman.”

You whistled at his sharp tone when he mentioned the businesswoman. “Hope you don’t find her. We don’t want it to get ugly.”

Yunho shook his head in amusement. “You’re not entirely wrong.”

You patted his arm and Yeosang arrived with a tray of tea and biscuits. You made space for him on the other side and made sure he got his share of blanket too. With the three of you snug, warm tea cups in hands as you sipped and stared absently at the nonsensical television show, sighing in sequence, you broke into light laughter at the situation.

“What?” Yeosang poked your arm with his elbow, though there wasn’t much space to do so.

“I’ve never seen Yunho so quiet,” you admitted. “And I’ve never seen you so focused on one thing. You both must be really tired, huh? Why didn’t you get some sleep?”

“Sleep doesn’t come easy when we’re like this,” Yunho revealed. “And I like to sit like this with Yeosang. It’s our routine. We just sit and watch something like this when we’re tired.”

“Helps to sort the thoughts out,” Yeosang added. “We thought we’d share some peace and quiet with you.”

“Hmm, good thinking. I would have been all alone with my thoughts at home.”

“See,” Yunho grinned, finished with his cup of tea. He intertwined his hand with yours. “We can also recharge this way.”

“Sure,” you drawled out.

“What else did you think we planned to do, sweetheart?” Yeosang teased.

“Nothing,” you shot him a glare. “Just surprised to see this side of you both. It’s nice and cosy here.”

“Whenever one of the boys needs some quiet, they come here,” Yeosang laughed. “It’s very loud at the other houses when they’re all home.”

“I can imagine. You both lucked out pairing with each other.”

“Definitely,” Yunho said and you noticed how he passed Yeosang a gaze that dripped with love. It said all you needed to know.

The conversation soon steered to their past and the time they all used to live together. They picked their rooms randomly at that time and Mingi was lucky to get a room of his own, and he really liked his personal space. Yunho used to room with San and he shared how he got used to being cuddled to sleep because of San’s sleeping habits. You admitted that you knew all about it from the time you once had the pleasure of sleeping over. He did not let you stray too far for one moment the whole night.

You found that Hongjoong and Seonghwa used to be roommates as well, but with Seonghwa’s caring nature, he was always making sure the whole house was in top condition, especially his room and Hongjoong’s space. Hongjoong used to sleep in the office a lot or would barely make it to his room before crashing on one of the sofas in the house. Now that he shared with Jongho and Wooyoung with the two mostly staying at the warehouse, Seonghwa would still get worried about Hongjoong and to make sure he was sleeping well, he would go and give Hongjoong some company or have him stay at his own house. That left San who would then find Yeosang or Yunho if he was all alone for the night.

And you finally asked– if they liked sleeping with each other just for the sake of being together so much, why did they ever separate their housing? Turns out that they asked themselves the same question often. They did like the peace and quiet as living together was quite noisy, but at the same time, they couldn’t live without each other. Yeosang revealed that Hongjoong wanted to buy a nice mansion away from the town with enough room for it not to get too noisy but still feel like home.

All these revelations prompted you to share your experience with your first roommate, Wendy. You admitted that growing up, you had a lovely nanny who would put you to sleep but one time, Secretary Park feared that the woman was revealing your identity to people and fired her. After that, you had to make do with being alone. Sunghoon was not bad company until he learned what being an ‘illegitimate’ daughter meant for you and for him, and then he started to despise you. You had to lock your own room to sleep every time, a habit that finally died down because of Wendy.

You told them that Wendy was a very nice person and a lovely housemate, never making you feel like an intruder in your own home and never overstepping the invisible boundaries that you made. She was perfect, and it was as if she could read your mind. At first, you had been a bit reserved with her but her bright personality was infectious and she made you loosen up in no time. You admitted that you would like to introduce her to the boys, though for now she seemed to think that you were only ‘dating Yunho’. Yeosang hummed in agreement, suggesting that once things calmed down a bit, introductions could definitely happen.

However, Yeosang was a person who was bad at lying, and he could not pretend that Wendy wasn’t a very old acquaintance of theirs. He wished he could break it down to you without you feeling betrayed by both Wendy and him. Wendy was hiding things from you because it was her job, however, the Crescents could have told you at any point that your roommate was an RV spy assigned to keep tabs on you for reasons that were unknown– probably related to what President Son mentioned. It was incredibly hard for Yeosang to lie or blatantly hide things from people that he loved, so he made a show of yawning with a big stretch, calling it a night and asking you two to get comfortable. With a pat to your head, he left for his room.

You found Yunho watching Yeosang, his eyes trained on the door of his room even after he disappeared. You asked him if everything was alright.

“Of course,” he assured with a small smile. “He must be tired. He hasn’t been home in a few days– he was staying with San at the warehouse.”

“Ah…” you squeezed his hand. “You must have missed him.”

“I was with Jongho, he kept me occupied,” Yunho laughed. “Never a dull moment with him– Jaehyun and Ten send greetings, by the way. It was fun to stay with them after so long.”

You smiled.

Yunho continued, “But you’re right. I definitely missed the comfort of my own home.”

Of his home. Of Yeosang.

“Should we give him some company then?” You suggested and Yunho’s eyes lit up.

“Exactly what I was thinking,” he cocked his head, his smile deepening as he looked at you.

“Do you know that you’re perfect?”

You were positive that you flushed deeply at his comment and you waved a hand in dismissal, getting shy under his gaze. He only proceeded to pull you closer, watching you intensely until you caved in and tried to hide your face. He chuckled lightly, cupping your face with one hand and making you lean in so he could kiss you, moving his lips in slow, soft motions. Your heart warmed incredibly at the tenderness he held you with, and after sharing another kiss, he drew back.

“Let’s go to sleep.”

Yeosang was surprised to hear soft knocks on his room that were symbolic of Yunho. He hummed in answer and when the door opened, he chuckled, going right back to his sleeping position.

“Couldn’t leave you alone,” Yunho grinned, “Scoot.”

“I’m not moving– hey,” he complained but you were pretty sure that was not a complaint, the way he laughed when Yunho tackled his body and switched him to the middle of the bed. You got on the other side, facing Yeosang who was now tucked safely in Yunho’s arms. You pulled the blankets over the three of you, unable to contain the emotions that you felt in that moment. Yeosang seemed to understand, like he always did. He passed a deep smile and you pecked his lips in answer, burying your face in his chest, ready to welcome sleep.

With the lights turned off, Yeosang finally held you close.

You had never felt so warm.

It was surreal to be back in Edenary again, though the elite sector was starting to resemble any other sector with graffiti on walls of the government-owned buildings now being painted over to erase any signs of the protests of the locals against the current establishment. The banners and posters were being removed and the police were at every corner trying to trace back these offences and fill their chokeys. There were barely any pedestrians and it was awfully quiet.

You travelled in two cars since your bodyguards were accompanying you as well– Taeyong, Winter, and Jongho’s bodyguard Mark, who you had the pleasure of meeting for the first time. He seemed to be a friendly person and appeared nothing like a bodyguard, but maybe that was intentional. Taeyong and Winter stuck out like sore thumbs, but at least they got along, which was surprising. You supposed that it was for the better since you were usually travelling with Hongjoong and the guards needed to be on good terms.

It also looked like the spy and the lackey had a lot in common. You didn’t have to contribute to the conversation much, announcing earlier on that you were going to take a nap. The two talked in low voices but that was not the reason why you couldn’t welcome some sleep.

What kept you up was a letter from a certain person in Edenary requesting a private meeting. Just you. No Crescents. As if you weren’t a Crescent, you wanted to yell at the sender. Winter had delivered the letter personally, and you didn’t ask how the letter found her. She only waited patiently for your answer and you told her that you would make up your mind once you reached Edenary.

You were all welcomed warmly at the Edenary residence and office. Jaehyun and Ten were pleased to see their old friends Taeyong and Mark. After a lavish lunch of the local delicacies with meat and seafood adorning the table, you got ready to meet with the first client of the visit.

Assemblyman General Wi.

It was incessantly difficult to get a hang of the assemblyman now that he was rumoured to have joined President Lee in sending the military troops towards Strictland. Eden News was doing a damned good job at censoring the reason behind the dispatch, claiming that the troops were to receive ‘special training’ in the mountains of Sector 5, but everyone and their kids knew that it was a blatant lie, an attempt to appease the masses.

While you were sure Assemblyman General Wi had some role in dispatching the troops, you wanted to give the man the benefit of doubt. Knowing President Lee and Secretary Park, they must be holding something of significance over the military man if he was being forced to collaborate with them. If not…

You would rather not entertain that possibility.

You dressed in a deep blue plaid suit that beautifully hugged your figure, keeping the accessories to a minimal with your hair tied. Taking a deep breath in front of the mirror, you prepared for the possibility that Assemblyman Wi might not attend the meeting personally today and you would have to make do with his secretaries. Hongjoong said that the General held regard for him as his partner in war, but even he sounded half-sure.

A knock to your door prompted you to come out of your head. Winter told you that the boys were waiting downstairs and you told her to stay safe– she wouldn’t be accompanying you personally but knowing her, she would be keeping close. Winter only smiled and once outside, disappeared into the shadows like the wraith she was, accompanied by Mark who also seemed to blend into the darkness just the same.

The meeting point was a club at the outskirts of the hotspot of this sector, a place carefully chosen where you wouldn’t attract much attention. Taeyong accompanied the three of you to the club. One of General Wi’s men recognised Hongjoong immediately and led the three of you to the VIP room through the backdoor, away from the heart of the club where people partied. You couldn’t help but smile– no matter how bad it got, the clubs and the bars would always be full of people.

The man knocked at the door and Jongho entered first, taking in his surroundings before motioning that it was okay to come inside. Hongjoong placed a hand on the small of your back and you took that as a sign to enter. He glanced behind him once before following you, wearing his trademark smug expressions that was an indicator that he would always have the upper hand in the room.

Did he, though, when Assemblyman Wi wasn’t present in the room? His secretaries, Lee Dohyun and Go Minsi, greeted you all warmly and offered you drinks and snacks. You all allowed yourselves to get comfortable for just a few moments before Hongjoong finally addressed the elephant in the room.

“So, what’s keeping your Assemblyman occupied? Not dancing in the heart of the club, is he?”

Dohyun stifled a smile. “Not at all. He just has some matters to attend to. He did say that he would try to make it, but you can talk to us in the meantime.”

“Right,” Hongjoong lit a cigar and took deep smokes, the pocket watch that the General himself had given him peeking from the inside of his burgundy coat.

“We just want you to be transparent with us,” Jongho began in a rather friendly manner. “Assemblyman General Wi and our boss go way back, so you must know why we requested a meeting.”

“You suspect Assemblyman Wi has a hand in the recent events,” Minsi began, her tone curt. “Rightfully so. We all know that the Assemblyman has a certain influence in the military sector, but it is ultimately the president who makes such decisions.”

“Does that mean that the Assemblyman opposes the President’s recent move?” You wondered out loud.

“It would be bold of us to admit that,” Dohyun reminded you. “We have to take a neutral stance during such happenings.”

“Well,” Jongho took a big gulp of his whiskey drink. “You know us, Dohyun. We don’t. And I don’t think you can stay neutral here when the president of Eden is aiming to take control of Strictland, having joined forces with Strictland officials themselves. You must know all about that already, right?”

Dohyun shifted uncomfortably while Minsi, who was seated next to you, struggled to remain unmoving.

“Does it bother you when we speak so casually of what could be the beginning of the next regional war? The first chapter of this dark period?”

While that may have bothered the secretaries, Jongho’s extremely casual tone and mannerism perhaps disturbed them more. He remained seated comfortably, swirling the wine in his hands with a rather innocent smile on his face. You could tell why Hongjoong decided to bring Jongho along– he had a way of making people squirm in their seats.

“I know your Assemblyman is listening in from the next room,” Hongjoong leaned in and said in a low tone, making the secretaries sigh in resignation. “It would be wise to let him know that our time is precious, and so is his. Let’s not waste that time going in circles, alright?”

Minsi clicked her tongue in mild annoyance and signalled the guard from the window. Moments later, the Assemblyman arrived, looking awfully proud.

“You’re quite restless this time, Colonel,” he said as a greeting after Hongjoong and Jongho saluted him. “Some might think you’re playing a game that’s not meant for you.”

“You know me, General,” Hongjoong didn’t take offence to his remarks. “I always liked to stay a few steps ahead. Helps in the long run. Maybe you would like to try my approach this time.”

The General nodded mockingly, watching you for a few moments longer than necessary. He looked like he was about to say something, but then thought otherwise and looked towards Hongjoong who was on his right.

“What’s your plan?”

“There is no plan,” Hongjoong announced. “We simply wish to get bearings of your allegiance.”

“As a military man, my allegiance lies with Eden, just like yours,” Assemblyman Wi replied, narrowing his eyes.

“Yet you’re going to be remembered as one of the key figures in triggering the second regional war of our lifetime.”

“There’s going to be no war.”

“And how do you know that?” Hongjoong asked with mild interest. “Did the President promise you that?”

Silence filled the room for a few moments while everyone waited for a response.

“He must be holding something significant over you,” you tried and the General regarded you with interest. “As a key figure in the previous war, you probably do not wish for another. Or are we wrong about this?”

It looked like you had struck a chord, but soon his lips were twisting in satisfaction and he huffed loudly. “You Crescents have a lot to lose from this war, don’t you?” He turned to Hongjoong. “You are cornered. The weapons dealing has stopped, your silver light production is in shambles and no one is keen to associate with your company anymore.”

Hongjoong shrugged, taking a smoke and not bothering to correct the man. “No better opportunity to announce that we do not stand with the President and his take on Strictland. It’s going to be us against the President. Pick a side, General. If you think President Lee is willingly going to let you win the upcoming elections, you’re wrong. He’s going to use you and discard you as soon as he gets the chance. You know he can, and he will.”

“Whatever he’s holding over you is just an excuse for him to make you do his bidding at gunpoint,” Jongho continued. “Wouldn’t you like to dissociate yourself from him before we announce the President’s real intentions to the world? You might actually win the elections if you stand against him.”

The Assemblyman considered that, clicking his tongue and making a show of thinking deeply. “Do you think it’s that easy to get past the President’s team? No matter how much you try, the rumours that the army was dispatched to annex Strictland will remain rumours.”

“Until when?” You asked. “It’s only a matter of time before Halaland’s president retorts. It’s going to get pretty messy afterwards.”

“Their president is too busy dealing with internal affairs regarding Strictland–”

“President Lee is the reason they’re having trouble communicating with Strictland,” you interjected. “Major Sung and President Lee have been in cahoots for too long now. Halaland’s president will retort, and it would be incredibly stupid of us to not try and prevent that. But oh, maybe President Lee and Secretary Park promised you something better than the peace of this land. Or maybe whatever they have over you is more dear to you than anything else. Understandable.”

You got up to leave and you were glad that Jongho and Hongjoong followed suit. This was not how you expected the meeting to end, and you were feeling a bit embarrassed at your little outburst but the silence that followed made you think that your words resonated with the Assemblyman and his team.

“We’re in Edenary for the time being if you would like to reach out to us,” Hongjoong said, shaking hands with the man. “Even if we stand in opposition, we can help each other out in tough times.”

Assemblyman Wi nodded sombrely. “President Lee has eyes everywhere,” he muttered in a low voice. “He’s a dangerous man, Hongjoong. I’m surprised that I didn’t see it before, but… Jongho is right. My hands are tied for now.”

“That’s unlike you,” Hongjoong commented, “The man I remember from the military… no one could have tied him down.”

The General passed a wan smile and Hongjoong took the lead, exiting the room. Jongho motioned for you to get ahead of him and just as you were about to step out, you heard the General’s voice.

“Secretary Park was right about you, y/n.”

You felt the hair on your neck rise at the mention of your father and your name. You looked back, surprised.

“He said the President would like you,” Assemblyman Wi smiled, but it held no malicious intent. It almost looked like his eyes contained a hint of worry. “He has his eyes on you, you know. President Lee.”

Hongjoong’s eye twitched at the revelation and something hot and angry bubbled in his throat. It took everything in him to not lash out at his superior, even though he wasn’t at fault. He only intertwined your hand with his, squeezing it when he realised the colour had left your face. Jongho bowed in greeting and rested his hand on your back, nudging you forward and out of the room.

“That was a warning,” you finally spoke once you were inside the safety of your car next to Hongjoong. He took your hand in his again, but you wondered if he needed that more than you.

“It doesn’t matter,” Hongjoong’s jaw clenched. “He only means to rile us. Don’t let it get to you.”

“You don’t know that,” you whispered. You could no longer ignore the foreboding sensation in your gut. The lack of response from Hongjoong didn’t help, though his thumb kept caressing your skin in hopes of providing some comfort.

Once you were settled in the privacy of your room that you were sharing with Winter, you turned off the night lamp to get ready to sleep, though your eyes remained open and stuck at the ceiling.

“You awake?”

“Hmm,” Winter responded. Even if she was asleep, she would have responded.

“Can you respond to the letter tomorrow?”

Winter shifted in the bed to face you and you did the same, tucking the silver strands of her hair away from her face. The spy didn’t flinch at your touch even though she wasn’t used to such actions.

“Tell Secretary Park that I’ll accept his request to meet him. He can expect me at his house soon.”

Winter nodded. “Are you sure?”

You shook your head no. “I still have to meet him. I don’t like what Assemblyman Wi said about President Lee today. Why does he have eyes on me? I’ve stayed in the shadows, haven’t I? I’ve done nothing that warrants his attention.”

“You didn’t need to,” Winter’s voice sounded sad. “Once he sets eyes on someone, he always watches them. And he’s watched you for a long, long time. Just like you have.”

She was right. As a kid in Secretary Park’s mansion, you often spotted President Lee at that house. You tried your best to hide, but the President always found you sneaking into the corners like a mouse. His eyes followed you as if he were a cat. Back then, he was just Assemblywoman Han’s husband, your father’s business investor. And then he assumed the title of President Han’s husband, until he made a name for himself. Assemblyman Lee, and finally President Lee.

The question wasn’t about how long he had watched you. The question was about why he cared now.

There was not one moment of rest for the following days, and you felt ready to go back to Sector 1, walk there if you had to and sleep in the comfort of your own home for once to wake up to the smell of Wendy’s cooking which you missed incredibly.

In the past three days, you had back to back meetings and while you weren’t attending them all, you would busy yourself with some other task– investigating and planning with Jaehyun and Ten and going to the bars to indulge in gossip with Winter because no one would suspect two women out to have some fun.

You did attend a meeting with Hongjoong at what was another Siren’s residence, where Mr. Ji shared the latest updates– President Lee was supposed to have an election campaign within the following week where he was going to announce himself as a candidate for the next election which would be taking place in February. The Sirens were planning to protest right outside and maybe give the public a little teaser of his actual involvement in the Strictland nuclear operation. However, the President was probably prepared for that and would be deploying police troops to keep the Siren under control. Mr. Ji didn’t reveal what his plan was, but it looked like he was prepared to counter any resistance.

There was a gathering held at the Ju Residence in regards to climate change– just a cover for businessmen and politicians to meet each other and discuss recent events. Hongjoong received an invitation from Ju Seok Tae, the weapons funder client that you had dealt with not long ago. Dressed to impress, you walked into the mansion arm in arm with the boys this time.

Everyone was eager to hear what the Crescents thought of the recent events so you decided to divide and conquer. Hongjoong went to tackle Mr. Ju, the host himself. If there was anyone he needed to win over, it was the co-owner of Eden News. President Lee’s control and censorship over the media could no longer be allowed to continue. You reminded Ju Seok Tae of your promise that you could easily expose Ju's family involvement in the underground. That would definitely earn them backlash not from the public, but the president himself.

Jongho decided to target the business figures who were known to be acquainted with Madame Tiffany in hopes of finding a lead and potential allies. That left you, and you had just the right person in mind for the night.

Assemblyman Kim Jooheon.

Straightening your black gown, you strolled towards the section of the room where the man stood, looking as neat as ever in a grey three-piece. He was busy chatting with someone so you stood in a corner with a wine glass, greeting Secretary Shin who stood next to him, her eyes twinkling when she recognised you.

It didn’t take long for the Assemblyman to make his way towards you, pretending that he needed to grab a drink from the table near you. No one else in the room needed to know that you had stationed yourself here deliberately, and that the Assemblyman had also approached you with a purpose.

“Been a while,” he said as a greeting and you gave him a little bow. He clicked his glass with yours and you stood with your backs against the wall. Just two people taking a breather and sharing drinks while they watched the party.

“Hope you’ve been faring well,” you said.

“I’m managing,” he admitted with a wan smile, causing you to chuckle lightly.

“Manage better,” you said teasingly. “Now seems like the right time to gain an influx of supporters.”

“Ah,” he shook his head. “Always in the game, aren’t you?”

“Have to be,” you shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s how we survive.”

He agreed. “President Lee is seeking reelection. You must know your history.”

“Presidents who run for a second term usually end up winning.”

He nodded. You considered the man.

“You must know that President Lee is involved in some Strictland operations by now. Illegal activities. Enough to invoke the wrath of the leaders of this continent.”

“He means to annex Strictland,” he addressed the matter directly. “But knowing him, the circumstances will shape themselves to his favour. Halaland will break the terms of the Treaty first, and Strictland will be annexed as a collateral to avoid a regional war.”

You made an impressed face, and he added, “It’s what I think.”

“You’re not entirely wrong,” you agreed. “He might take this approach, yes. Might take the shape of a war, might not. It won’t be his first time if it does.”

“What do you mean?”

“Didn’t the Battle of the Eight Hills begin just like this?” You wondered. “It all comes down to Strictland. President Lee and Secretary Park were involved with Strictland back then too. Halaland bombed itself and claimed that Eden had, thus retaliating with an attack on Eden and triggering the war. We all suspected that Halaland had blamed Eden wrongfully, but did you ever wonder why Halaland made such claims?”

Assemblyman Kim stared at you, realisation dawning on his face as he connected the dots, his brows relaxing and lips twisting. “I’m wondering how you can make such big claims.”

“Heard it right from the man himself,” you motioned with your drink to Secretary Park who stood in the veranda, chatting up some politicians. So far, the two of you had been ignoring each other’s existence and you intended to keep it that way.

“I also wonder if annexing Strictland is what we need,” Assemblyman Kim admitted and you looked up at him with curiosity. “Eventually, a nation on this continent is going to declare itself a nuclear power. The international laws will have to change. The production of nuclear weapons will be controlled, yes, but not halted. I’d rather it be Eden who declares itself a nuclear power first, if it comes to that.”

There was a lull in conversation. Perhaps, the Assemblyman had never admitted his thoughts about the subject out loud like this.

“You’re a wise man, Assemblyman Kim,” you meant it. “Just be careful who you choose to side with. It won’t be long before President Lee becomes a pariah. I will make sure of that personally, if I have to.”

“Should I really side with the Crescents?” He wondered. “Might do me more harm than good.”

“I never said you have to side with us,” you smiled. “Someone from the Sirens Rebel Party will approach you shortly. Hear them out, will you?”

Assemblyman Kim’s eyes widened in surprise. “Now you’re going to associate me with the notorious rebel party. Right when the elections are around the corner.”

“Come on,” you placed your empty glass back at the table. “You know the party means no harm to this land. And… it’s not like you’re winning the elections. Not alone.”

“I prefer to win fair and square, Luna,” the Assemblyman almost reprimanded, and that made a short laugh erupt from your mouth.

“Don’t you know, Mr. Kim? There’s no such thing as fair and square within the walls of Edenary.”

With that, you made your way towards the door to the lobby where Jongho seemed to be catching a breather, taking in his surroundings. You curled your hand around his left arm, a small shocked sound erupting from his mouth at the touch but he relaxed when he saw that it was only you.

“Sorry, did I scare you?” You asked, unable to keep the amusement out of your voice.

“You might not believe this, but it’s not very hard to scare me,” he admitted, sharing a grin. “Assemblyman Kim looks like someone snatched his lolly.”

“That would be me,” you said proudly. “I riled him up. He’ll definitely stop assuming a neutral position now.”

“Good,” Jongho patted your hand that was still on his arm. “Meanwhile, I’ve managed to cause a little ruckus over drinks and narrowly escaped judgement from the crowd. However… I did manage to make some new friends. We’ll need them soon.”

“Always buying connections, aren’t you?” You teased. Jongho had a rather simple philosophy of carving his path towards success, and it was that money could buy you everything. Money could also make the path towards success feel like a smooth ride.

“Can never have too many,” Jongho winked. “Don’t blame me. They are gullible. I’m just doing my job.”

“You’re bloody well good at it.”

He laughed, but it was cut short when the lobby silenced for a moment, hushed whispers indicating the arrival of someone. You couldn’t see outside from where you stood and you made no move to check who was causing the commotion, but–

“The President?”

You frowned, looking towards Jongho who seemed as confused. There was no indication that the President himself was going to attend this gathering, so whatever prompted him to arrive here? Did he want to gauge the public sentiment in person?

Jongho motioned for you to follow him and you did, situating yourselves closer to the window and the door through which the President would be entering. You noticed Hongjoong standing near the stairs next to Ju Seok Tae, concealing his surprise. Or maybe, he already got a whiff of his arrival. He only passed a small nod to the two of you.

“Are we greeting him?” You asked Jongho, gulping.

“Just like everyone else,” he scanned the room. Everyone seemed to have made way for the man of the evening. “Do you wish to move somewhere else?”

It felt like you were back to your father’s mansion. He always told you to make yourself scarce whenever some guest was supposed to visit, but he was also aware that you were a curious little thing who always sneaked around. Through the window, you could see Secretary Park’s eyes fixed on you, a knowing smile plastered on his face.

Something was off.

“Luna?” Jongho called your name gently.

“It’s fine,” you told him. “Just having some flashbacks. I’m going to be seeing the President this close after years, so.”

“Chin up. And remember,” he instructed, clasping your hand in his. “You’re a Leader now.”

“Thank you for the reminder,” you meant it.

That still did not prepare you for the way the President’s eyes found yours and stuck for far too long. He was still the same man yet it looked like he had aged a lot, the skin around his eyes creasing now. He stood with his lips parted– was he surprised to find you here?

Everyone was watching. You felt your hands get clammy with sweat, the man scanning your figure slowly with Secretary Park right by his side, saying something in a low voice. The President’s gaze travelled to your right hand that was clasped in Jongho’s, and with a dissatisfactory grunt, he shifted his gaze, giving the room his trademark smile and making sure the room saw him give the two of you that same smile.

His female secretary, Im Jinah, followed behind him and passed you a subtle smile and a nod. She definitely recognised you. Secretary Im was usually occupied in the office unlike Secretary Park, so you didn’t get to see her often when you lived in Edenary, but she was aware of your identity. You returned the sentiment and she went ahead to join Secretary Park.

Once they were out of sight, you passed a weak smile to Jongho and he let go of your hand. You wiped your hands on your dress, apologising for the nervous sweats and fixed the pearl ring on your right index finger. Your eyes followed President Lee who was greeting people, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries, claiming that he did receive the invitation and didn’t initially plan to come, but something convinced him to.

And perhaps, you were thinking too much, but you didn’t miss how the man looked back and met your eyes before turning his attention back to the group of people he was talking to.

Like an omen, General Wi’s statement rang in your head. He has his eyes on you, you know. President Lee.

Shaking your head, you caught Hongjoong watching you with worry– was that worry in his eyes? He signalled that he would join you two in a minute and went ahead to greet the President. The two shook hands like old friends, their smiles masking their intentions. You stood waiting for him in the corner and straightened when he finally approached you.

“Well. Talk about unexpected guests.”

“Stole the show,” Jongho scoffed, checking his wristwatch. “When do we leave?”

“I’ve just got to have a final word with Mr. Ju and one of the members of the Department of Security,” Hongjoong replied, looking around the room. “If they’re not kissing the president’s arse, it shouldn’t take long.”

“And if they are?” You asked.

“Then we leave right away. No point wasting time,” Hongjoong said and you both agreed. He went towards the hall and you looked at Jongho.

“I’m going to freshen up, be right back.”

“Sure, I’ll be by the drinks,” he said and you left to find the powder room.

Once inside the private space, you stood in front of the mirror, staring at your reflection. You told yourself that you were reading too much into everything. Assemblyman General Wi could have said that to distract you, which would be very plausible considering that he wanted the Crescents confused if he was going to remain your rival.

The reason President Lee looked at you like that was probably because he recognised you. Maybe if you had been in private, he would have actually said hi, since you were his old friend’s daughter, though the public wasn’t aware.

You fixed your hair and washed your hands before exiting. On the way to the hall where Jongho would be waiting for you, you encountered Secretary Im and she slowed down as you drew near her.

“It’s been a while, y/n,” she smiled and you wondered if it was genuine. “Good to see you.”

One thing about Secretary Im was that she had a way of asserting dominance which was her weapon. She appeared to be sophisticated and had an almost innocent air about her, but she was meticulous and ruthless like any presidential secretary should be in order to tackle any problems.

And, well. You had experienced her tackle your brother Sunghoon’s case incredibly well. With her law background, she had no trouble making sure Sunghoon never had to step in police stations or court. She also took it upon herself to discipline him, though Sunghoon never took her seriously. You were pretty sure he harboured feelings for the young secretary, and you couldn’t blame him. She was beautiful.

“Hope you’ve been well,” you returned her smile. You had nothing personal against her and she had never been unkind towards you.

“I hear you’ve finally found your place in this world,” she smirked, and you couldn’t tell if this was a compliment or a jab.

“Yeah, well,” you shrugged. “Took me a while but I’m pleased to be where I am.”

Secretary Im acknowledged that with a nod. “If you would like to see your father… he’s in the study.”

Of course. Of course Secretary Im knew that Secretary Park wanted to see you.

“I’d rather not… not right now,” you responded and she shrugged, her attention drawn to someone calling her name. You bowed to each other in farewell.

While you had no intentions to see your father, you found yourself searching for the study anyway. The door was slightly ajar and he seemed to have company. You caught a glimpse of him sitting with his back towards you and decided to just leave, but–

“She’s grown so much, hasn’t she?” Secretary Park’s voice was faint but you could hear it, alright. You stood closer to the door, concealing your figure and pretending to fix your dress in case any passersby found you eavesdropping.

“She has. Hyung,” President Lee’s voice sounded, his footsteps containing a sense of urgency. “She looks just like her mother.”

“Don’t let her hear that,” Secretary Park chuckled. “What do you think? Do you want to be present when she comes to see me?”

“It would be too obvious,” President Lee clicked his tongue. “Maybe some other time, or–”

You spotted some people making their way to the study and took off for the hall, finding Jongho and grabbing a glass, downing the whiskey in one gulp. Jongho looked at you with worry.

“You look awfully pale, Luna. Are you alright?”

“I’m good,” you said, but you didn’t sound convincing. “Just heard something I shouldn’t have.”

Jongho was about to inquire but he spotted Hongjoong. You were utterly relieved to hear that it was time to go back. The three of you shared the details of the gathering on your way back but you ended up keeping the last bit of the event to yourself.

You debated whether you should tell them about what you had heard, the guilt of keeping that information gnawing at you and making you restless, especially when you were in the privacy of your own room. Hongjoong was supposed to make a detour to Sector 4 tomorrow, having received a tip regarding Tiffany so you reckoned it was now or never.

Finally making the decision, you took heavy steps towards Hongjoong and Jongho’s room and knocked.

It was Jongho who opened the door for you, looking more surprised than worried. “Everything alright?”

You peeked behind him– Hongjoong was up, dressed in black silk nightwear as opposed to Jongho’s ivory cotton one. He was sitting on a chair and was occupied with a book.

“Can I come in?”

“Sure,” Jongho made way for you and you gave the Captain an awkward smile when he finally noticed that it was you who knocked. You settled on the edge of the bed in front of the two.

“I overheard Secretary Park and President Lee talk about something at the Ju Residence earlier,” you told, your heart thumping between your ears.

Hongjoong shut his book, giving you his full attention. “And what was that?”

“President Lee said I look just like my mother. He sounded awfully surprised, and… off. It was strange to hear that from his mouth.”

A surprised sound erupted from Jongho’s mouth. Hongjoong, however, remained stoic.

“Secretary Park and President Lee go way back,” he reminded you. “It would only make sense that they share everything with each other, including this information. It is possible that he knew your mother personally.”

“But…” you fiddled with your hands in your lap. “I don’t know how to explain it. It’s just… strange. The way he looked at me today. How Assemblyman Wi said he’s got his eyes on me. Nothing's making sense anymore.”

“Is there a chance your father wants you to side with him now?” Jongho wondered and you were surprised at his deduction.

“Well… I also received a letter a few days ago from Secretary Park,” you admitted and Hongjoong raised a brow. “He said he wants to meet me. Alone.”

“And you didn’t tell anyone?”

“I’m telling you now,” you gave him a tired look.

“You must have made a decision then,” Hongjoong smiled and something about it felt like a jab.

“I have,” you kept your voice steady. “I have to hear him out and find out the reason why he’s so keen on meeting me now.”

Heavy silence filled the room for a few seconds before Jongho grunted, attempting to improve the mood.

“I think that’s a good idea,” he offered his insight. “Secretary Park must be in desperate need of something to call a meeting with you. I don’t think he would ask to meet you just to rub our recent sufferings in your face.”

You smiled at that and agreed. “I’ll learn what he needs and we can use that to our advantage–”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to meet him,” Hongjoong interjected. “I think they’re trying to distract you– us, from something. It’s a common tactic.”

“Well,” you began. “I’ll keep that in mind. But I still think I should meet him anyway.”

“So you’ve already made up your mind,” Hongjoong sighed in resignation. “Thanks for letting us know.”

“Hongjoong,” Jongho warned but you shook your head, silencing him.

“Do you trust me, Joong?”

“Of course I do,” Hongjoong’s voice almost cracked. “I don’t trust anyone else but us. I think they’re going to take advantage of you, and I do not want my ace to be taken advantage of.”

“That won’t happen,” you insisted. He knew that it was not that easy to manipulate you into doing something, so why was he being so adamant about this if he trusted you so much?

Your eyes narrowed slightly. “Are you hiding something from me?”

Hongjoong folded his arm and leaned back in his chair, expressions going cold. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

You looked at Jongho who appeared about as uncomfortable as you. He definitely was not aware of Hongjoong’s reasoning.

“You haven’t lied to me about anything, right?” You asked and Hongjoong nodded. “But… you’re hiding some truth from me.”

When Hongjoong did not respond, Jongho muttered a curse under his breath. While you were glad that it was only Hongjoong playing this game with you, it still left a bitter taste in your mouth because if he had not shared these things with the boys, that meant that the gravity of the matter must be pretty high.

“I’m not blind, neither am I dumb, Kim Hongjoong,” you glared at him. “I know you must have your reasons. But just like you did not like how I kept this from you, I don’t like how you’re keeping something from me. Will you share it with me now, or should I take your silence as a sign that I’m dismissed?”

“Luna,” he appeared distraught. “I don’t want you distracted from what’s more important right now. Whatever I’m keeping from you is nothing of importance right now.”

“Not helping,” you shook your head and got up. “Have a safe trip, Hongjoong.”

With that, you left the room, shutting the door with a bit of a slam for extra measure. Hongjoong clenched his jaw, glancing at Jongho who was grimacing.

“Damn, hyung. You messed up.”

Hongjoong shook his head. “This fucking building must be cursed or something– never a peaceful moment here with Luna. Ask Jaehyun to contact real estate and find us a better building.”

“Or we’ll just have this one blessed,” Jongho suggested and Hongjoong shot him a glare.

When you took to a bar to drown in your emotions, you didn’t expect to run into Inspector Gong, of all the people in Eden.

Hongjoong had left for Sector 4 earlier in the morning. You both were pretending that the conversation from last night never happened, and you only wished him well and prayed for his safety as he went to verify the tip that he had received about Madame Tiffany. Apparently, she was trying to contact him and did not want anyone finding out.

That was strange in itself. For a person of Madame Tiffany’s standing to practically go into hiding meant something was up. She hadn’t made a public appearance since the tip to the navy had temporarily paused trade with Mist Island. Your sources had confirmed that she was nowhere to be found in Wonderland.

Jongho was due to meet a client close by, and he offered you to join him but you denied, admitting that you felt bad for leaving things on a sour note with Hongjoong and wanted to clear your head. He understood.

“If you’re like me, you’d want to try a bar,” Jongho had said. “Just the perfect place to drown in your sorrows.”

“Oh, then I’m very much like you,” you had confirmed and with a grin, he told you to visit one specific bar in downtown that wasn’t very active but had the best collection of wine and the perfect atmosphere to enjoy some solitude.

And solitude you were enjoying, Winter hanging nearby, inconspicuously keeping watch. When she spotted Inspector Gong, she informed you immediately but it looked like the officer was here for a reason much like yours.

It was why you didn’t mind him taking a seat near you. You would have moved elsewhere, but he noticed you and chuckled in surprise.

“Didn’t expect to run into a Crescent here,” he commented.

“Didn’t expect to run into an officer here,” you retorted, signalling the waiter to get the officer a drink. “But I’m not one to complain.”

He chuckled, thanking you for the drink and presumed to stare at it intently instead of consuming it. You continued to do the same to your drink, though it wasn’t your first.

“You’re not drinking,” you said after a moment. “I didn’t spike it in case you’re worried about that.”

“Of course you didn’t,” he said but you raised a brow, indicating that you very well could have. “I don’t think the drink is going to help very much, to be frank.”

“I can confirm,” you sighed. “Fifth glass and it only feels worse.”

“Trouble in paradise?” He asked. You wondered if he was aware of your relationship with the Crescents– or at least one of them. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was. He always kept a close, watchful eye on the gang.

“Something like that,” you found yourself admitting. “Do you have a partner, Inspector?”

“I have a wife, yes.”

“How do you solve conflicts?”

“By not avoiding them, but it’s easier said than done,” he mused.

“Right…” you traced the curve of your glass with your fingertip. “What if the conflict is because you’re both trying to protect each other in your own ways?”

“That’s always a hard one,” he sucked in a breath, contemplating what to say next. One look at you and he knew that he could share this. “I had an intense conflict with my wife when I was investigating my last case in Edenary. She told me not to dig into it and obey my superiors. It was her way of protecting me, and I only understood that after that case cost me my detective badge.”

“Did she gloat about being right afterwards?” You asked. The Inspector couldn’t tell if you were teasing.

“Oh, she did. Rubbed salt in my wounds, still does,” he chuckled. “But that’s her way of reminding me to be careful. She’s also someone who sticks with me and is proud of me, no matter where I am. No matter how stupid I am.”

That warmed your heart. “She sounds like a great partner.”

The Inspector nodded and finally downed his drink.

“The last case that you investigated in Edenary… that was President Han’s murder investigation, wasn’t it?”

He was silent for a good moment but eventually, he nodded, figuring that you already knew a great deal.

“Why did you get demoted?”

“Because I wouldn’t listen to my superiors–”

“No, I mean,” you turned your attention to him and he met your eyes, looking more tired than you expected. “Why, really, were you demoted? Only because you refused to let go of the case, or was it because you were snooping in places that were never meant to be snooped in?”

The Inspector gave you a look. “You’re Secretary Park’s daughter. You should know all about it.”

“Connected the dots, have you?” You scoffed. “And if you really have, you must know that it’s just a misfortune, a stroke of bad luck that we’re bound by those familial ties.”

Another moment of silence.

“So it was Secretary Park who stopped your investigation, eh?” You asked, even though you knew the answer. Everyone knew. “And by extension… President Lee.”

“They claimed he had his private team looking into it,” the Inspector reminded you.

“A weak excuse. His private team never found anything.”

“Because it never existed,” he scoffed. “I know.”

The waiter offered to fill your glasses and you both gladly accepted the refill. You sipped on your drink, thinking. The taste of the familiar drink was more bitter tonight.

“Would you like to look into the case again?”

“No,” It was more a warning than an answer. “You can’t look into it. Not now–”

“Now’s a good time, I think,” you commented. “He’s all riled up and distracted. Would be the perfect opportunity to access the previously restricted resources, don’t you think?”

“He’ll find out,” Inspector Gong shook his head. “And I can’t get any more demoted than I already am.”

“But he’s scared of you,” you locked eyes with him. “He stopped you, crushed your spirits, because he was scared you were going to find something that he did not want you to find. So if you’re not going to look into the case again, tell me about your last or most recent findings.”

He passed you a sceptical look and you shrugged loudly. “I don’t have enough time to investigate it myself, don’t worry. I’m just interested.”

“For all the wrong reasons, I suppose.”

“They’re going to be the right reasons very soon,” you said, implying the president’s recent controversial decisions. “I’ll share something with you if you share this with me. Something you’ll like very much.”

“Go ahead, then. You first,” he folded his arms, ready to hear what you had to offer.

“Who would you like dirt on?”

“Let’s see…” he thought for a good minute. “How about the Crescents themselves?”

When you shot him a glare, he raised his hands in surrender. “How about the Sirens? I hear you’re all chummy now.”

“You’re barking up the wrong tree, though,” you smiled. “The Sirens are not your enemy, inspector. You could work with them– you’d made good allies. They just want the Strictland issue to be solved. Don’t you, Inspector?”

“I suppose I do,” he exhaled deeply, sniffing. “Why do the Sirens care about the Strictland issue so much?”

You contemplated for a moment. “I’m not sure. Loyalty to Eden sounds like a lie. My guess is that they– that one of their leaders has something personal against President Lee or one of the parties involved with Strictland. You know how most of the members of that group are immigrants. Loyalty to Halaland? Unlikely when their homeland abandoned them. It feels personal, but that’s just my observation.”

“That’s very insightful,” Inspector Gong regarded you with curiosity.

“Your turn,” you reminded him.

“Well… I actually received a tip from someone right before President Lee interjected and closed the case. I suspect it was President Han’s female secretary. She disappeared after her death and has probably left Eden, or maybe she’s buried under the ground. I’m not sure, but anyways… the tip revealed that President Han was looking into something very personal right before her death.”

“Investigating her husband?” You asked. “I bet she was, but I already know about that–”

“No, not politics-related,” Inspector Gong took a deep breath. “Something related to her family. I found out that she has some maternal family in Eden, but they always stayed out of the spotlight. No one was aware of their identities, and I bet after what happened to her, they cut all association with her for fear of their lives.”

“Maternal family…” you considered that. “It would be interesting if they were still around, right?”

“I suspect they are. The detective hunch in me says so,” Inspector Gong passed a cryptic smile and you fought the urge to inquire further. “But my detective hunch also wonders if the tip was pointing to President Han’s family with President Lee.”

“The infant that died?” You frowned.

“Maybe they had other children. Maybe one of them had children out of an affair,” Inspector Gong said. “I like to entertain all possibilities. I just wish the secretary elaborated when she gave me the tip, but I can’t blame her. She was probably too scared and wanted to reveal the information in private. Maybe she never would have revealed that and doubted me as much as any other.”

“Interesting,” you commented. “Would you be up to meet President Han’s male secretary regarding this matter?”

“Isn’t he in hiding after what happened with his arrest?”

“I know how to reach him,” you offered.

“There must be a catch,” Inspector Gong cocked his head.

“You’ll keep me updated.”

“Of course,” he shook his head. “You’re just like Hongjoong, you know.”

That pleased you infinitely. You looked back at where Winter was standing, surprised to see that Jongho had joined her. You finished your drink and got up.

“Well, it’s been a pleasure, Inspector,” you said. “I hope we can share drinks more often.”

“Nah, I think I’m fine,” he shook his head but his smile said otherwise.

You approached Jongho who started clapping. “How did you get the Inspector to smile so damn much?”

“We shared domestic troubles,” you said and he laughed. “But… I’ve found some interesting things regarding President Han’s case.”

“Oh?”

“Apparently, she was investigating something personal right before her death– something regarding her family. Only, we don’t know what family is meant by that. She has some maternal family in Eden so we might want to look into that– but you would know all about it, wouldn’t you?” You turned towards Winter who was smiling.

“Can’t break the code,” she simply said.

“We’re going to end up finding out anyway, save us some time,” you half-pleaded but she was adamant.

“This one, you won’t.”

“And what about the things that we potentially could find out?” Jongho asked.

With the two of you ganging up on the young spy, she gave in. “Fine. President Han wasn’t looking into her maternal or paternal family or anything related to them.”

“So she was looking into what? Does President Lee have another child?” Jongho asked. “Someone with a different mother? Someone no one knows about?”

“Find out for yourselves.”

You suppressed a curse and Winter smirked. Jongho only shook his head and you looked towards him.

“Do you think I should ask Secretary Park about that?”

“Don’t you even try,” he warned. “If that’s what got President Han killed by her own husband… don’t you dare try, Luna.”

“Geez, okay,” you folded your arms. “I won’t.”

“Promise me,” he was serious.

“I promise,” you assured him. “But I’m going to meet him. Tomorrow. You can’t stop me from that.”

Jongho looked conflicted. “Hongjoong asked me to let you do whatever you want, but I’m still tempted to stop you from meeting him.”

“It’s just a little meeting. It will only do emotional damage,” you laughed though it didn’t quite sound very hearty. “Winter will be present with me. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“Oh, you can’t stop me from worrying,” Jongho motioned for you to follow him, exiting the dark corridor and leading you towards the parking lot, hand on the small of your back. “I just hope…”

Jongho paused when you reached the car and he faced you, looking conflicted. “I hope you don’t let him get to you too much. Don’t end up making any deals with the devil, Luna.”

You nodded, finding his hand and squeezing it in assurance. He drew his other hand to your face, giving your cheek a gentle caress before pulling away and opening the door for you, taking you home.

Little did you know that the devil would take your hand and ask you to come with him.

next chapter

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taglist pt 1:

#oh new edenary trio i hope we get more jongho interactions #sleepovers with yunsang must be so cozy 😔#wonder what's got assemblyman wi so compliant #TF YOU MEAN PREZ HAS HIS EYES ON HER #he may be asshole but he is still ✨daddy #man i hope the daddy park meeting goes well #calling him daddy bc i just checked out the character book and realized #that you used actor park byung eun like how stupid of me #he may be an asshole but he's still a ✨daddy✨#also damn winter warmed up huh #all these business meetings be giving peaky blinders #omg the way jongho hides the ring seems unintentional on his part but intentional on YOURS???#why the fuck does the prez care if luna is holding jongho's hand UNLESS #no nvm #WHO LOOKS LIKE WHO NOW #so he knows #ofc he does #man hj is so pathetic 😭 JUST SAY THAT YOU LOVE HER AND YOU'RE TRYING TO PROTECT HER #omg the inspector knows the deal #family with president lee as in the child #the dead child #and what if that child is luna but then #did pres han.... have an affair?#then why is pres lee so calm about it #UNLESS #okay I'll hold my thoughts #also i love how jongho is opening up #good stuff #ateez x reader #ateez ot8 x reader

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