Mr and Mrs Sim ⋆ s.jake

Chapter 35

Riki's POV

The same fucked-up story was playing on a loop. My childish eyes watched my life get stolen, and years later, those same eyes—sharpened by bloodlust—watched Jaeyun's being defiled. Cold War had turned into an all-out war, and I wouldn't stop fighting on my own until those motherfuckers were dead.

"Nishimura Riki...?" I halted mid-step, tilting my head toward the door of my hospital suite. I was almost out clean, ready to disappear like a ghost, when this chica called my name and screwed it all up. "I know you're here. Can I come in?" Who the hell was she? My gaze stayed locked on the door as my hand slid into the lining of my black sports bag, fingers curling around the grip of my Glock.

"Yeah, you can. But say my name out loud one more time, and I'll make you scream it." I smirked, keeping my aim steady on the door, ready to take her down in one shot and jump out the window behind me.

No one knew I was staying there while recovering from my transplant, since Hwang had booked the suite under a false identity.

Nobody except that bitch.

"Say that again, bastard!" She shot back, the doorknob twisting down as another slur slipped from her red-painted lips. I chuckled. "Choke on your fucking laughter. You're the one who'll end up on your knees worshiping my name."

"Nah."

The door swung open, revealing the prettiest faded rose in high heels and a trench coat. I sighed, tossing my gun into my bag, buried between a black sweater and my fetish bandana.

"What?" She cocked an eyebrow while I fought to fuck the murder urge out of me, my eyes flicking up to hell and back. "You're the one who told me to meet you if I wanted answers."

"I did?"

"You did."

She closed the door with a calculated heel strike, sending it shut without a sound. The dim light filtering through the shutters caught the red sole of her stiletto against the white wood. She'd take that shade of red to her grave—I'd bet my faith on it. All the blood Jaeyun, my victims, and I had spilled? She walked over it like it was nothing.

I watched her in silence, my hands busy folding a jacket and tucking it away with the others. A padlock-like grip tightened around my vocal cords, locking the words inside. She knew, and I knew. What else was there to say?

"Why did you save him?" she asked.

"That's my family. We don't like each other much, but..." I stopped, feeling the pressure in my chest as she moved closer, like a cheetah closing in. Her eyes never left mine, narrowed, analyzing every inch of me, reading between the lines. Even those written in transparent ink in my veins. Goddamn it. Who was I kidding? Myself. "When I saw how fucked up he was, I knew. I wasn't just covering for some partner in crime. I was saving my damn big brother."

"Y-your what?" she stuttered. Her bottom lip trembled. The eyeliner line on her dark eyes stretched. I disarmed her with two words. Even in the midst of redemption, I kept the gun loaded. A Nishimura never changes; it's in the blood. "YOUR big brother?" The more the distance between us closed, the more her hand struck the air, ready to land on my face. I didn't back down. What for? "You RUINED my fucking marriage. My...no, his..." She glared at me. "OUR LIVES. And you dare to call him a big brother."

I chuckled, taken aback.

"Your life? This isn't about you, bitch." I spat, harshly. "I can't even believe you're comparing your pathetic life to his rape. You know what? Die of your fucking selfishness. We've all ruined our lives like grown ass adults, and you? You're the first one. So woman the fuck up, and try to save the love of your life."