Choi San, a revered and feared mafia boss, reigns over Seoul's underworld with an iron fist, his influence extending seamlessly across both legal and illegal domains. But his empire is shaken to its core when his beloved daughter, Eun-ji, is kidnapp...
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We sat in the conference room, the air heavy with anticipation and unresolved tension as we waited for Wooyoung to return. My gaze kept flickering toward the door, and my thoughts swirled with everything that had gone wrong between us. He wasn't just angry—he felt betrayed, and I couldn't blame him. The weight of my choices hung over me like a storm cloud that refused to pass.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed movement by the door. My wife stood there, arms crossed, her presence filling the room with a different kind of tension. Eun-ji, who had been clinging to me for comfort, remained oblivious to the turmoil swirling around us. I kissed the top of her head softly, offering her the calm I couldn't find within myself. But my attention quickly shifted back to my wife, her silent gaze a demand for something unspoken.
Her gesture for me to follow was subtle but unmistakable. With a gentle pat on Eun-ji's shoulder, I stood up and made my way out of the room, the weight of everything pressing down on me as I approached her cautiously.
As we stepped into the hallway, away from the others, the reality of her standing here—alive, after all this time—hit me like it always did, a jarring contradiction to the months of mourning I had endured. Mourning that now felt hollow and misplaced, turning into something else. The anger at myself for not telling Wooyoung gnawed at me. How could I have asked for his trust when I had failed to give him mine?
She turned to face me, her eyes softer now, but there was an edge to her voice as she spoke. "We have to talk—I know I've been hiding. I was protecting you."
I stared at her, my jaw tight. Protecting me? That was a hollow justification for all the secrets, the lies. "I don't need protection," I said, my voice calmer than the storm of emotions inside. "You were with Blaze. I saw the photos."
She sighed, as if the weight of my accusation wasn't unexpected. "I wasn't with them," she said, quieter now, her voice almost pleading. "I was going against them. But I had to be within their circles, San. It's not my fault my clueless brother didn't see me lurking around. You know how dangerous Blaze is. I needed to stay close to keep an eye on them, to gather information. It was the only way I could do it without being caught."
Her words hung in the air, but they didn't provide the comfort I thought they might. "And what about Wooyoung?" I asked, my voice low but steady. "You expect him to believe this, to forgive this? He doesn't trust either of us now, and he has every right to feel that way."
She stepped closer, her hand resting against my chest, the touch familiar and yet foreign after everything. "I want us to try again," she said softly, her fingers stroking my shirt. "It doesn't have to be like this. We can still have a future, San. I did all of this for you, for us."
I wanted to believe her, but I couldn't shake the image of Wooyoung's face when he found out, the coldness in his voice when he said he was done. "I don't know if we can just start over," I said, my voice faltering for the first time. "Too much has happened. Too much has been broken."
