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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Lying there in the unfamiliar bed, staring up at the ceiling, my phone buzzed beside me, lighting up the dark room with a single message notification. I glanced over, sighing as I reached for it, expecting another reminder or something mundane. But when I opened it, my heart skipped a beat.
Yeosang: Race tonight, 11 p.m. Usual spot. You in?
The adrenaline surged before I even had time to think, an immediate pull, the allure of the night calling to me. Racing always had a way of clearing my head, of letting me shake off everything else and focus on the thrill, the speed. The idea of tearing down empty streets, wind whipping against me, drowning out all the noise... it was exactly what I needed.
But then reality settled in. San's words from earlier hung heavy in my mind—how he didn't want me out there, didn't want me taking risks he couldn't control. I clenched my jaw, frustration building up all over again. This was exactly the reason I was in this separate room in the first place—because he couldn't understand that I needed this freedom, this independence. The last thing I wanted was to spend the night obeying his unyielding rules, feeling caged in his fear.
I stared at Yeosang's message, my finger hovering over the screen. I knew it would be a risk, that there'd be hell to pay if San found out. But wasn't that exactly the problem? The fact that I had to second-guess something as simple as going to a race?
With a sigh, I pushed myself off the bed and slipped my phone into my pocket. The decision was far from made, but I needed something to clear my head, something to pull me out of this constant loop of frustration. If nothing else, coffee would keep me awake enough to think it through.
Padding quietly down the stairs, I made my way to the kitchen, flicking on the light as I reached for the coffee machine. The soft hum of the machine filling the room was almost comforting, grounding me in the moment, away from the tense thoughts that had been circling all night. I watched the coffee drip into the mug, feeling the weight of the decision press down, the thrill and the risk wrestling against the practicality of staying put.
I leaned against the counter, sipping the hot coffee, letting the warmth spread through me. Going to the race meant defiance, meant showing San that I wasn't just someone he could control. But it also meant taking a risk, something I knew he wouldn't forgive easily if he found out. Still, the thought of staying put, confined to the house like a caged bird, felt unbearable.
I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, the taste of coffee lingering on my tongue as I weighed my options. I could feel the night calling to me, tempting me with freedom and rebellion, the one place I could lose myself without feeling watched, without feeling restrained.
I took a long sip of my coffee, letting the warmth ground me, trying to sort through the mess of thoughts pulling me in opposite directions. I was halfway through debating whether I'd risk going to the race when I heard San's voice drifting from his office down the hall, low and cold, each word wrapped in that hard, commanding tone I knew too well. Even without hearing the details, I could pick up the frustration in his voice, the restrained anger lingering just beneath the surface.
