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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
One month later, I stared at the crumpled note in my fist, the words scrawled across it like a cruel taunt. Meeting with Blaze. Discussions ongoing about rekindling for Eun-Ji's future. The ink was smudged from where my fingers pressed too tightly, blurring the text but not enough to erase the sting of what it said. My heart pounded in my chest, a storm of betrayal, anger, and self-doubt surging inside me.
Before I knew it, my feet were carrying me to San's office, propelled by the kind of fury that couldn't be tamed. The door loomed before me, a heavy barrier that did nothing to stop the rage coursing through my veins. I shoved it open with enough force to make it rattle against the wall, the sound reverberating through the room.
San looked up from behind his desk, surprise flickering in his eyes before it shifted to a hard, unreadable expression. Papers lay scattered across the surface, and his laptop glowed with half-typed notes about our latest mission. He straightened, eyes narrowing as he took in my disheveled state.
"Wooyoung, what the hell—"
"Don't you dare," I snapped, slamming the crumpled note onto the desk between us. The impact echoed, punctuating the tension that now thickened the air between us. His eyes flicked to the note, recognition flashing across his face before a mask of guarded anger fell into place.
"Where did you get that?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous, a growl that matched the storm in my chest.
"Does it matter?" I spat back, my voice shaking with fury. My chest heaved as I struggled to keep control, but the betrayal cut too deep. "Is it true? Are you meeting with her behind my back? Are you thinking of going back to her?" The last word felt like poison on my tongue, raw and jagged.
San's jaw clenched, muscles straining under the weight of his silence. He pushed himself up from his chair, palms planted firmly on the desk as he met my glare. The shadows of his tattoos shifted in the dim light, making him look every bit the intimidating, untouchable figure that others feared.
"This isn't what you think," he said, his voice tight, strained, as if holding back something far more explosive.
"Don't give me that!" I shouted, the anger bursting out before I could contain it. "Do you know what it felt like to find this? To think that everything we've been through meant nothing? That you're just going to go back to her for the sake of appearances or whatever excuse you've convinced yourself of?"
His expression darkened, eyes burning with a fury I hadn't seen before. He shoved back from the desk, the chair scraping against the floor with a screech. "You think I'm doing this for appearances? You think I don't care about what we have?" His voice rose, sharp and jagged, cutting through the suffocating silence.
I stepped forward, meeting him head-on. "Then tell me, San! Tell me why you didn't say anything! Why keep this a secret unless you knew it would shatter everything we've built?"
