'I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you.'
Coming from a wealthy family was never the major flex in her life. To others, she might come off as a rich spoilt brat but the reality was far from what they perceived her to be.
In a world...
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Miyeon didn’t know when her knees started trembling or when her throat began to ache from holding in the sobs. The weight of Juwon’s revelations was still crushing her ribcage, but a different, sharper fear had begun to take hold. A primal instinct for survival.
Her mind was racing.
She had to get out. Now.
But she couldn’t be obvious. She blinked slowly, willing her legs to remain steady as she subtly shifted her foot backward, inching toward the door. Every muscle in her body felt like it was screaming, coiled and ready to snap, but she had to stay calm. She couldn’t let him see.
She tried to keep him talking.
"Why… why are you telling me all this?", she whispered, her voice hoarse but steady enough, "What do you want from me now?"
Juwon tilted his head, studying her, "Closure," he said with a smirk, "For you. For me. For everyone involved. Just like when I kill you here and the bomb blasts kills everyone there... I will win."
Miyeon took another step back, fingers tightening around her phone. Bomb? Her heart pounded against her ribs, the thudding echoing in her ears. She could almost taste the hallway beyond that door—the cold air, the chance at escape.
Just a few more seconds…
But then—
His eyes flicked down.
And everything shattered.
Before she could react, Juwon lunged.
She barely had time to gasp before he slammed her back hard against the wall, the breath knocked from her lungs. Her head cracked against the plaster with a sickening thud, and the pain came in a wave that made her knees buckle.
And then—a sharp, burning slap.
The sound of it rang through the room like a gunshot. Her head jerked sideways, cheek stinging violently, a sob tearing out of her throat as her vision blurred.
"Stupid girl...", Juwon hissed into her face, and she could smell the alcohol all over him, "You thought you could run?"
Her phone slipped from her hand, skidding across the marble floor and landing partially under a tall ceramic plant pot, the screen still faintly lit. She stared at it for a split second, her mind screaming. She had to get to it—had to run.
