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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I woke in the early dawn, the faint light of the new day slipping through the heavy curtains, casting soft shadows across the room. My skin was damp with sweat, the fabric of the sheets sticking to me uncomfortably as I shifted beneath them. A deep wave of nausea rolled through me, making my stomach churn and forcing me to take slow, shallow breaths to keep it at bay.
I turned onto my side, the movement slow and cautious, as if my body were unsure how much it could handle. The coolness of the pillow against my cheek brought some relief, but it wasn't enough to chase away the discomfort. I pressed a hand to my abdomen, frowning slightly as the queasiness refused to ease.
"What is wrong with me?" I muttered under my breath, my voice hoarse in the quiet room. My fingers curled into the sheets, and I shifted again, hoping to find a position that might settle the unease coursing through me.
The room was silent, save for the faint rustle of fabric as I moved and the soft hum of the air conditioning. I glanced over my shoulder, my eyes landing on San, who was still deeply asleep beside me. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, his face peaceful in a way that made my heart ache even through the haze of discomfort. I didn't want to wake him—not after everything he'd done to make yesterday so perfect.
Another wave of nausea hit, and I closed my eyes tightly, focusing on my breathing. The queasiness wasn't sharp or overwhelming, but it was persistent, gnawing at the edges of my consciousness and making it impossible to relax. My mind raced as I tried to piece together why I felt this way. The whiskey from last night? The nerves from the wedding still lingering in my system? Or maybe I hadn't eaten enough with all the excitement and running around?
I let out a shaky sigh, opening my eyes to stare at the faint patterns the dawn light painted on the ceiling. My body felt out of sync, as though it were fighting against me in some unseen way. Turning my head, I looked back at San, his presence grounding me even in my discomfort.
I reached out tentatively, my fingers brushing against his arm. His warmth was reassuring, a small anchor in the midst of my unease. But I hesitated, not wanting to disturb his rest. He'd been so attentive, so focused on me yesterday, that I couldn't bring myself to pull him out of his much-needed sleep for something that felt so... small.
Still, the gnawing feeling in my stomach refused to be ignored, and I found myself curling in on myself slightly, tucking my knees closer to my chest in search of some kind of relief. My mind buzzed with questions, none of which I could answer in my current state. All I could do was ride out the discomfort and hope it passed before San woke up.
The thought of San waking up to find me like this—sweaty, nauseous, and out of sorts—made me grimace. I hated the idea of worrying him, especially when I wasn't even sure what was wrong with me.
I turned back onto my back, staring at the ceiling as I took slow, steady breaths. "Come on, Wooyoung," I whispered to myself, willing the nausea to fade. "Get it together."
