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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After San left, a heavy quiet descended on the house, amplifying the tumult of emotions swirling within me. I remained seated in the dimly lit living room, enveloped by the encroaching silence that seemed to feed my growing anxiety and sorrow. Each replay of our conversation deepened my distress, with San's bruised face—those marks of conflict I hadn't directly caused but felt deeply connected to—looping endlessly in my mind.
It was the betrayal from my own sister that stung fiercely. Her actions, her willingness to inflict such pain, shattered something fundamental within me. The stark realization that she could harm someone I had loved, that she had used her manipulative tendrils to wrap around my life and squeeze, was both infuriating and terrifying.
As I sat there, my fingers twisted together, wrestling each other in a physical manifestation of my inner turmoil. The occasional creaks and groans of the house settling for the night punctuated the stillness, each noise echoing like a reminder of my solitude.
The soft sound of the front door closing broke through my reverie. Yeosang entered, his presence immediately palpable in the quiet space. He paused upon seeing me, his face etching with concern before he approached and took a seat beside me. He didn't speak immediately, recognizing perhaps that platitudes would do little to ease the storm inside me.
"I... I don't know what to do, Yeosang," I murmured, the weight of helplessness suffocating. "Everything keeps spiraling. And now, San... caught up in this nightmare because of her." My voice was a mixture of anger and fear, directed mostly at the havoc my sister had wrought.
Yeosang exhaled softly, his demeanor calm but his eyes serious. "It's a lot to process," he agreed, his hand finding my shoulder in a gesture meant to ground me. "But remember, Wooyoung, you're not facing this chaos alone."
The mention of Eun-ji, the innocent caught in the crossfire, twisted a knife of guilt deeper into my gut. "But how can I protect them from her? From my own sister?" The frustration and fear of not being strong enough to shield those I cared about from someone so close to me was overwhelming.
Yeosang's attempt to reassure me seemed to barely scratch the surface of the issue. "She can't break San," he whispered, believing his words could perhaps ease the tension. I turned to look at him, frustration simmering beneath my calm exterior.
"It's not about breaking with words—it's about influence. She speaks, and he believes her, whether you like to hear it or not," I snapped, unable to contain my irritation any longer. The anger and fear, a volatile mix, pushed me to my feet. "I know what she thinks of me. I heard your conversation with San outside. I make him weak."
The words spilled out, raw and unfiltered, echoing around the room with a bitter truth that I couldn't hold back. My sister's manipulative capabilities were not just a threat to my personal peace but a wedge driving directly between San and me, corrupting what we had tried to build.
