A lovely change with love|2min

chapter 22

Trigger warnings
Murder
Voilence
Panic attack

Flashback

In the dimly lit office, Minho paced back and forth, his jaw clenched and frustration radiating from him with every tense step. The room was thick with tension as he ran a hand through his hair, his mind racing to piece together how things had spiraled so quickly. Beside him, Changbin stood quietly, watching Minho with a calculated gaze.

“How could such a massive transaction go unnoticed?” Minho’s voice seethed with anger as he stopped abruptly, turning to face Changbin. “Someone withdrew a huge sum from account, and now I have to explain it to the board! This isn’t just some oversight, Changbin, it’s a mess.”

Changbin’s eyes glinted with something unreadable as he placed a reassuring hand on Minho’s shoulder. “Hyung,” he said in a low, steady voice, “relax. I know the pressure is insane right now, especially with that shipment scheduled for today.”

Minho let out a frustrated sigh, a heavy reminder of the contract he’d made with Kumarin. The shipment of drugs to Russia had to be flawless, no mistakes, no delays. The risk was too high, and so was the payout. Every detail had to be executed with precision, but this unexpected issue at the bank had thrown everything off.

Changbin’s hand tightened slightly on Minho’s shoulder, his expression calm and unwavering. “You go to the board meeting,” he said, his voice filled with reassurance and a hint of something else, something subtle. “I’ll handle the shipment. Everything will go smoothly. Just trust me.”

Minho searched Changbin’s face, a flicker of uncertainty in his gaze. “Are you sure? This is too important to leave to chance.”

Changbin met his eyes without a hint of hesitation, his lips curving into a small, confident smile. “I’m a hundred percent sure, Hyung. You can count on me. Trust me, I’ve got this.”

Relief flickered across Minho’s face, and he nodded, taking a steadying breath as he turned to leave. “Alright, Changbin. I’m counting on you,” he said, his tone resolute but weary.

As the door closed behind Minho, the calm, reassuring mask Changbin had worn slipped away. Alone in the silence of the office, a smirk slowly spread across his face, his eyes darkening with satisfaction. “Just trust me,” he murmured under his breath, the words dripping with sarcasm. The game had begun, and everything was falling perfectly into place.

Under the club's dim, pulsing lights, Chan strode through the crowd with purpose, his black suit immaculate, each step exuding calm authority. He barely glanced at the flashing neon or the dancing patrons; his focus was solely on the VIP area at the back, where the real business was conducted. As he approached, a large, stone-faced guard extended his hand, waiting for verification. Chan coolly produced a card, and after a brief inspection, the guard nodded, granting him access.

Inside the VIP room, the atmosphere was tense, thick with smoke and the unspoken threat that always accompanied the man seated in the center of the leather couch, Kumarin, a formidable presence in his late forties, with a hard gaze that had watched countless deals and betrayals unfold. Two men stood flanking him, each with a hand resting inside their suit jackets, ready for anything. Three more men were scattered around the room, their eyes narrowing slightly as Chan entered.

Without a word, Chan approached and tossed a thick file onto the table in front of Kumarin. The dull thud echoed ominously, drawing Kumarin’s attention as he leaned forward, placing his cigarette between his lips. Chan met his gaze, eyes cold, unflinching. "I warned you about Minho," he said, his voice smooth yet laced with bitterness. "But here we are."