Hostage {ℍ𝕐𝕌ℕ𝕊𝕌ℕ𝔾} -- DISCONTINUED

Chapter Two

Hwang Hyunjin's face was cold as he stared out the window, eyes pensive, the room filled with nothing but the sound of the tap, tap, tap of his finger knocking against the arm of his chair. A hostage exchange. The tapping of his finger increased in frequency, growing faster with each passing moment.

All of a sudden, he stopped, sighing as he turned his focus to the ground. A hostage exchange. He knew it was the best solution to ensure that the Hans wouldn't betray him – if he had one of the family head's sons, then at least he knew he wouldn't do anything to jeopardize their safety.

The thing he wasn't too happy with was who he would have to send out as his own insurance. There was a gentle knock on the door to his study and he lifted his head, train of thought broken.

The door creaked open and he peered over his shoulder, the ice melting from his gaze almost immediately. "You don't have to think so hard about it," his mother said softly as she came to sit in the chair beside him, following his gaze to where it had wandered back out the window. "When I married your father, I knew what kind of risk I was putting myself in."

Hyunjin shot her a look before his shoulders slumped. "That doesn't mean I want to put you in that kind of danger," he grumbled, closing his eyes. His mother was, admittedly, the only thing he cared about in this world. After his father died, he found that he didn't really care about much anymore.

She reached forward and, with a tender hand, brushed aside the hair that had fallen into his face. "My love, you know as much as me that if you don't secure an alliance with the Han family, you'll most likely end up dead as the head of our own. Besides, I'll be safe there." She smiled down at him and he sighed again, rubbing his temples.

"I know that." He turned to stare up towards the ceiling. "But I have a bad feeling about this, Mom." He knew it was the right course of action for his business, to keep his subordinates safe and ensure that his handle on the northern side of the city wasn't compromised, but there was still a seed of doubt, an unexplainable feeling in the pit of his stomach that warned him against it.

Really, though, what choice did he have with the Bangs rising to power as quickly as they were? They'd been quiet for a long time, the three families held in a strange kind of peace, a stalemate of sorts.

His father knew it wouldn't last forever, and it seemed that the day where it crumbled was finally upon them. "I'll be fine," she said softly, tapping his face lightly as she stood, smiling at him before she left the room, leaving him to stew in his thoughts once more.

Staring at the phone, he hesitantly picked it up, dialing a number. "Alright. It's on."

~#~#~#~#~#~

Hyunjin flipped through the files on his desk, eyebrows furrowed as he tapped his chin, deep in thought. There wasn't much information on either of the Han family head's sons – he knew their names, Jeongin and Jisung, that they were around his age, and that there was an heir and a spare.

One was said to be an extremely talented, a gem in their line of work, while the other was nothing but dead weight. If he had to take a guess, he'd assume that the Han family head would offer up the spare – there was no reason as to why he would offer up a talented soldier instead.

He could work with that – if push came to shove, he'd be able to twist the weak one into whatever it was he wanted.

He set the thin file back down on his desk and sighed, resting his chin against his crossed hands as he stared down at it. Perhaps a more appropriate question was why there wasn't any information on the two at all; it was rare for anyone of that standing to be as anonymous as they were. There were minimal pictures, all of them blurry or distorted.

For whatever reason, the Han family head did not want his sons to be known to the world. There were many reasons that came to mind when he thought about it, but he supposed that so long as it didn't impact him or his family he didn't quite care about what his rival was doing.

He flipped through whatever remaining information there was, gathering bits and pieces here and there. Most would've said that it was better than nothing, though, really, it might as well have been nothing with the limited amount of information there was in this file.

This family would cause him nothing but problems.

~#~#~#~#~#~

Jisung's eyes snapped open to the dark ceiling of his bedroom. A bead of sweat trekked down the side of his face and he raised a trembling hand to press against his forehead. He exhaled a shaky breath as he closed his eyes, attempting to calm the nerves rattling inside him.

He let his hand fall back to his side, and he waited for a moment before he opened his eyes again. That nightmare, again. How long had it been, how long had these nightmares been wreaking havoc on his unconscious mind?

Sitting up, he threw off the blankets, bare feet landing on the cold floor of his bedroom. When he peered out the window he noticed that it was still dark outside, the clock reading 3:08 AM.

Great. Well, there was no use going back to bed, his mind being as rattled as it was. He slipped on a pair of sweatpants, running a hand through his hair. Most days were like this, most nights spent in the training gym rather than in his bed where he was supposed to be.

The halls of the manor were empty apart from the occasional guard, none of which commented on his strange appearance trudging along, still barefooted. By now it was a usual occurrence, and all of them knew at this point that asking him would be enough invitation to receive a fist in the face.

Slowly, the lights in the training room opened to reveal the floor mats and the punching bag dangling in the middle. He reached over and wrapped his knuckles in white bandages. Hit after hit was aimed at the heavy bag, muscles tensing.

It didn't take long before sweat slicked his hair to his forehead, beads of sweat gleaming across his forehead. He didn't know how long he was there, venting his anger out with every hit. His chest heaved as he paused, allowing his hands to return to his sides as he caught his breath.

His eyes flashed as they narrowed on the punching bag, still swaying slightly in the air, the only sound in the room being the creaking of the chains keeping it upright; in the dead of night, there wasn't much else to be heard.

There was no way he wouldever let Jeongin be handed over to their enemies like that. Over his dead body.

A/N: Ohohohoho (I'm sorry okay I don't even know what to put in these author's notes shh)

Lots of love,

~Emilie