Love you dangerously | Minsung

20

The ride back to their dorms was thick with silence, broken only by the steady hum of the black SUV speeding through the outskirts of the city. Minho sat in the backseat, his head leaning against the cold glass window, eyes blank as city lights flickered past in smudged streaks. His knuckles were bruised again. Blood under one of his nails. He hadn't even realized it.

Chan was driving, one hand on the wheel, the other tapping restlessly on his thigh. He hadn't said much since they'd left the warehouse. None of them had.

Changbin sat beside Minho, rolling his shoulder with a quiet wince. His jacket was soaked—half from rain, half from sweat. Hyunjin was in the passenger seat, legs up on the dash, chewing on the inside of his cheek like it'd keep him sane.

"Three bodies," Chan finally muttered, eyes still locked on the road. "No trace left behind. We cleaned up faster this time."

Hyunjin scoffed. "We're getting too good at this."

Minho didn't respond.

He was still thinking about Jisung. The way he'd kissed him before leaving. So warm. So trusting. So... soft.

A world apart from this.

"You good, Min?" Changbin's voice was low, cautious.

Minho blinked slowly. "Yeah. Just tired."

Chan glanced at him through the rearview mirror, his voice calm. "You hesitated today."

Silence.

Minho didn't flinch. "I didn't."

"You did," Hyunjin added, not unkindly. "Right before pulling the trigger. Your hands shook."

Minho finally looked up. "You think I can't do my job?"

"No," Chan replied. "I think you care about someone."

Minho's jaw tightened.

Changbin's eyes flicked to him. "Is it Jisung?"

Minho didn't answer.

Hyunjin turned around in his seat, eyebrow raised. "You're thinking about him, aren't you?"

"Jesus, Hyunjin—" Minho sighed, dragging a hand through his hair.

"Look," Chan said, voice level, "whatever it is between you two, you better keep it separate from this. From us. From him."

At the mention of him, the air in the car dropped.

Brian.

Their boss. Their shadow. The man who'd brought them all into this. None of them had seen his face. Only heard the filtered voice on the phone. Only read the cryptic texts. Instructions, threats, praise—it all came from behind a screen. But he ran everything.

"He messaged me again," Chan muttered, reaching into the glove compartment and pulling out a burner phone.

A new message blinked on the cracked screen:

>>"You guys did  well. No loose ends? Good. I'll inform you about the next mission soon."

Hyunjin let out a sharp breath. "He's watching us."

"He always is," Changbin muttered.

Minho stared at the message, his stomach turning. Brian felt universal. Like he was always one step ahead. Like he knew things before they even happened.

What would he do if he found out about Jisung?

And what would Jisung do if he ever found out... the truth about them?

Minho pressed his head harder against the glass, trying to steady his thoughts.

He couldn't tell him.

Not yet.

Not ever, maybe.

"He ever showed his face to you, Chan?" Hyunjin asked quietly.

Chan shook his head. "No one's seen him. No one even knows where he is. But I've spoken to him. His voice... it's always changed. Modulated."

Changbin frowned. "Feels more like a ghost than a boss."

Minho's voice came out quieter than he intended. "Do we even know his real name?"

Chan looked up in the mirror again. "Just Brian."

Hyunjin's lips twitched. "For all we know, he could be some rich asshole running this whole operation from his penthouse while we do the dirty work."

Minho closed his eyes.

Or maybe he's someone closer than we think.

And unknowingly... the father of the boy Minho just fell for.