Eyeing him closely, I suddenly ask, "I don't know your name,". His sinfully handsome face remains impassive, not a single crease betraying his thoughts.
"You didn't ask."
I groan, rolling my eyes. "So, what's your name, then?"
"Jeon," he responds, h...
Right now, I'm practically begging the Uber driver to push the pedal to the floor. The address I gave him is my sister's house—where she's currently in danger. Alice is my older sister, but sometimes it feels like I'm the one taking care of her, not the other way around.
She followed in our father's footsteps, becoming a lawyer, while I took a different path as a manager. Maybe that's why he always seemed to favor her, like he already had the perfect daughter, so he didn't need to pay attention to me. But I stopped caring about his approval a long time ago. Alice is a damn good lawyer, and I'm doing fine in my own career. Still, the constant comparisons from our childhood drove a wedge between us, leaving us more distant than we should've been.
None of that matters now. What matters is getting Alice out of this mess. I received a message from an unknown number with a picture of her tied to a chair. That's when I left Lisa and Jisoo behind. No way am I dragging them into the dark parts of my life.
"Faster! Faster!" I yell for what feels like the hundredth time.
"I'm already pushing it without getting a ticket, young lady!" the driver snaps back, glaring at me through the rearview mirror.
I don't bother apologizing. He has no idea what's at stake. Whoever's behind this is going to pay.
Fifteen agonizing minutes later, I fling some cash at the driver and bolt toward Alice's house. I already know where the spare key is hidden, so I grab it from under the vase by the door. My hands shake as I fumble with the lock, only to realize—it's already unlocked.
"Shit, shit, shit!" I whisper, my heart pounding. I take a deep breath, turn the handle, and step inside.
The house is eerily silent, bathed in darkness. No lights, no hum of appliances—just an unsettling, dead quiet. There's no sign of life, and the possibility that my sister might not be alive tightens my chest. My mind races with a million what-ifs, each one worse than the last.
"Hello?" My voice echoes back to me, the silence amplifying my dread. I try again, louder this time. "HELLO! Is anyone there?!"
The air is stifling, my skin burning with panic. A bead of sweat rolls down my forehead, and I can't shake this overwhelming sense of dread crawling up my spine.
Then, I hear it. A faint sound from upstairs, coming from her bedroom. My heart lurches into my throat.
Should I call the cops? But what if the bastards holding Alice just kill her and run before they even get here?
Suddenly, a gunshot shatters the silence. I scream, instinctively ducking behind the nearest piece of furniture. Tears blur my vision as I clamp my hand over my mouth, trying to stifle my shaky breaths.
"Oh God..." I whisper, my stomach twisting in horror. A man, shot and bleeding, tumbles down the stairs, his body making sickening thuds as it hits each step. Blood stains the carpet, and I fight the urge to throw up.
Could Alice have shot him? But why would she even have a gun?
Swallowing down the bile rising in my throat, I force myself to move. I creep up the stairs, my hand hovering over the door to her bedroom, which is cracked open just enough for me to see inside. And what I see makes my blood boil.
Jimin stands there, pressing a gun to Alice's forehead, his face calm, even bored. Several masked men surround them. One of them, though, doesn't bother with a mask—and he's annoyingly handsome. Of course, just my rotten luck to be dealing with good-looking criminals.
I slam the door open, barely stopping myself from lunging at Jimin in fury.
"What the fuck, Jimin?" I rasp, my voice cracking under the weight of my rage.
"Took you long enough," Jimin says, lazily tapping the barrel of his gun against Alice's head. "I just wanted to add some excitement."
I laugh bitterly. "Leave my sister alone. She has nothing to do with this." I lock eyes with Alice. She's trembling, her pupils blown wide with terror. She's barely holding on.
"All you need to do is what we tell you," the unmasked man—Suga, I guess—says, his voice low and gravelly.
I swallow hard. "Why?"
Jimin grins. "Because you need it."
I bare my teeth. "You don't know what I need." But they do. That's the terrifying part. They know I'm drawn to this—the danger, the thrill. I thought I buried that part of myself five years ago, swore I'd never go back.
Suga smirks, stepping closer. "Oh yeah?"
"Don't come any closer," I mutter, reaching for the gun hidden in my back pocket.
Jimin's laugh echoes through the room. "Told you. She's got a gun back there. You owe me ten thousand won, Suga."
My stomach twists with regret. Of course, they knew. They've played me from the start.
I lower my hand slowly, my voice shaking. "If you leave my loved ones alone, I'll do whatever you want."
The triumphant gleam in Jimin's eyes tells me everything.
I've just made the biggest mistake of my life.
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