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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The night felt strangely dense, weighed down by an unnatural silence that pressed in on me, even as I drifted between sleep and the edges of wakefulness. It was then, in the depths of that quiet, that I felt the cold grip of hands on me, pulling me from the warmth of sleep and plunging me into a waking nightmare.
My eyes shot open, barely processing the blur of masked figures moving with calculated precision around my bed. Adrenaline spiked through me, and without a second thought, I kicked out, catching one of them squarely in the chest. They staggered back, but two more closed in, hands grabbing at my arms, my legs, twisting my wrists as I fought, my muscles screaming in resistance.
"Get off me!" I managed to shout, but a rough hand quickly muffled my words, shoving a gag between my teeth and tying it cruelly behind my head. Before I could gather my strength for another attempt at escape, a blindfold was wrapped tightly over my eyes, plunging me into darkness. I was forced onto my stomach, my arms wrenched behind me and bound with something unyielding, cutting into my wrists. Panic swelled as I thrashed, my mind racing, but each movement was met with a hard grip, each struggle met with unrelenting force.
I felt myself being dragged from the room, my bare feet scraping over the cold floors of the mansion. My mind flashed to San, to the others, to how close they all were, yet somehow completely out of reach. The reality hit me harder with every step they forced me to take away from the life I'd built, from the safety and love I'd finally found. I fought harder, but with each twist and thrash, they tightened their grip, driving a brutal reminder into my ribs as they hauled me outside.
The night air was icy against my skin, sharp and bitter, carrying with it the rustle of leaves and the crunch of gravel underfoot. I heard the sound of a car door creaking open, and then, without warning, I was shoved inside, my head slamming into the hard interior. I tried to push myself upright, but they held me down, a heavy weight pressed into my back as the door slammed shut and the car lurched forward.
The car roared down the road, each turn throwing me off balance, but I struggled to keep my bearings. I had no idea where we were going, and that only made the fear twist harder in my stomach. My wrists ached beneath the bindings, my jaw clenched against the gag, and just as I tried to focus on some way to get free, I felt a sharp pinch in my neck. Coldness spread from the injection site, a numbness that quickly turned to a hazy fog clouding my mind, my movements weakening with every heartbeat.
It felt like hours passed, the drug sapping every ounce of strength from me until I was slumped in the back seat, only dimly aware of the passing time, of the car finally slowing to a stop. My senses drifted, struggling to piece together my surroundings, but everything came in fractured pieces: the jarring crunch of gravel, the creak of doors opening, the firm hands dragging me out of the vehicle. My feet stumbled against unfamiliar ground as I was pulled forward, through the cold echo of a wooden threshold and into what felt like a large, empty space.
Then I heard it—a voice I'd hoped to never hear again, its tone as cold and commanding as ever.
