kidnapper's protection | seongjoong

21

Seonghwa sat cross-legged on the bed, flicking through his kidnapper's phone—a sleek, expensive device he "accidentally" left behind when leaving the apartment that morning. Seonghwa was no detective, but even he could piece together the puzzle that was falling into place right in front of him.

Every tap revealed something new: articles, business emails, stocks, even luxury brands bookmarked for future shopping. His kidnapper—wasn't just some criminal lurking in the shadows. He was someone powerful. And horribly wealthy.

There was an article plastered with his face—those same piercing eyes without the balaclava—alongside a headline:

"Kim Hongjoong: The Mind Behind Korea's Most Innovative Real Estate Company."

Seonghwa blinked at the screen, his brain struggling to process what he was seeing.

Kim Hongjoong. The name sounded new and unique.

Real estate mogul? Seriously?

His fingers hovered for a moment before scrolling down. The article went on to praise Hongjoong's success—his ability to predict market trends, his investments in luxury apartments and high-rises, his charitable contributions. Apparently, he lived in the penthouse of one of the most exclusive apartment complexes in the city.

That explains the apartment, Seonghwa thought bitterly.

But with each detail uncovered, Seonghwa's confusion deepened. Why would someone like Hongjoong—someone who could buy whatever he wanted—stoop to kidnapping? If he had everything, why resort to crime?

The door creaked open, and Seonghwa froze. He quickly shut off the phone, placing it face down on the bed just as Hongjoong stepped inside.

"Studying hard?" Hongjoong asked with a small smirk, tossing his jacket onto a chair.

Seonghwa didn't respond immediately. He just stared, brows furrowed, trying to piece it all together. Why?

Hongjoong noticed the shift in the air, and his playful demeanor flickered into something more guarded. He knelt in front of Seonghwa like before, his gaze sharp and unwavering. "What's on your mind?"

Seonghwa swallowed, hesitating for only a moment before blurting out, "You're a real estate tycoon. You're rich."

Hongjoong didn't seem surprised by the revelation. He tilted his head slightly, as if amused by Seonghwa's struggle to connect the dots. "And?"

"And...why?" Seonghwa leaned forward, frustration bubbling to the surface. "Why do you need to kidnap people? You could have anything, anyone—"

Hongjoong let out a soft chuckle, cutting Seonghwa off. "Oh, Seonghwa. You think wealth fixes everything?"

Seonghwa huffed. "WW-ell, it should."

Hongjoong's gaze darkened, and he sat beside Seonghwa on the bed, his presence both unsettling and magnetic. "Money buys comfort, not meaning." He glanced around the apartment, as if the expensive furniture and polished surfaces meant nothing to him. "People think wealth makes them invincible. But no amount of money makes you untouchable. Or..." He trailed off, eyes narrowing slightly. "Loved."

The way he said it made Seonghwa's chest tighten.

"So you kidnap people because...you're lonely?" Seonghwa scoffed, but there was no malice in his tone—only genuine confusion.

Hongjoong's lips curled into a small, humorless smile. "I take people who look like they're about to fall apart." His gaze drifted to Seonghwa, and there was something almost gentle in the way he studied him. "People who want to disappear."

Seonghwa's heart skipped a beat. He knows.

"And what?" Seonghwa whispered, almost afraid of the answer. "You save them by locking them away?"

Hongjoong shrugged, as if the logic were simple. "Sometimes people need to be taken from the world to survive it."

Seonghwa sat in stunned silence, his mind reeling. This wasn't what he expected—this wasn't the villainous mastermind he imagined. Instead, Hongjoong seemed...complicated. Twisted, maybe. But not without purpose.

And strangely enough, Seonghwa wasn't scared anymore. Not of him.

He turned to face Hongjoong fully, their knees almost touching. "What do you want from me?" he asked softly.

Hongjoong met his gaze, unblinking. "I want you to stay with me."

There was no menace in his voice. Just quiet sincerity that made Seonghwa's heart race.

Seonghwa's hand twitched at his side, unsure whether to pull away or lean in. But then, Hongjoong reached out and brushed his fingers over Seonghwa's hand—gentle, deliberate. The touch sent a shiver through Seonghwa's spine, making it impossible to move, to think clearly.

The heat between them simmered, heavy and suffocating in the quiet room. Slowly, as if testing the waters, Seonghwa laced his fingers with Hongjoong's. Their hands fit together too perfectly, like this moment had been inevitable all along.

"You're insane," Seonghwa whispered, lips twitching into a small smile despite himself.

Hongjoong leaned closer, his breath ghosting over Seonghwa's cheek. "And you're still here."

Seonghwa's heart pounded, and before he could stop himself, the words slipped from his mouth. "You can't do that. I've seen people better than you."

Hongjoong's eyes gleamed with amusement, the corner of his mouth twitching beneath the ever-present balaclava. "Is that so?"

Seonghwa smirked, his pulse quickening at the playful challenge in Hongjoong's voice. "Yeah."

Hongjoong's hand squeezed his lightly, dragging Seonghwa further into this dangerous, intimate game between them. "Careful, Seonghwa," he murmured. "You might end up liking this more than you think."

Seonghwa knew he should pull away, should retreat from the line they were toeing—but he didn't. Instead, he leaned into the warmth of Hongjoong's hand, letting the moment settle between them like a promise neither of them dared to speak aloud.

And for the first time, Seonghwa realized with a strange sort of clarity:

Maybe staying didn't feel like a trap.

Maybe it felt like home.