The next morning, the sky hung low, heavy with gray clouds, as if the heavens themselves were reluctant to open their eyes.
Ra-hee stirred in the quiet apartment, her limbs tangled in the thin sheets of the bed, her hand instinctively reaching toward the other side—cold and empty. Jae-hyun wasn't there.
A rush of anxiety crept up her spine. He didn't leave… did he?
She sat up abruptly, brushing her messy hair from her face. Her mind, trained both as a doctor and as a woman in love with a man made of danger and scars, immediately listed every possible worst-case scenario. Gunshots. Rivals. Regret. Disappearance.
But before she could spiral, the scent of coffee—dark, bitter, familiar—wafted into the room.
She stepped out into the living room and found him there: Jae-hyun, standing by the wide glass window, shirtless, his back lined with old wounds and fresh tension. He was holding a mug loosely in his hand, gazing at the skyline.
He looked calm. But something in his posture told her otherwise.
Ra-hee walked to him slowly, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind. He didn't flinch. He leaned into her, just slightly.
"You didn't sleep," she whispered.
"I couldn't," he said. "I had a dream. But it wasn't mine."
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
He turned to face her, and in his hand was an envelope. Yellowed, worn, with a blood-red stamp that made her skin prickle. She hadn't seen that symbol before—an abstract design, almost like a serpent curled around a blade.
"This came late last night," he said. "I didn't open it in front of you."
She took it from him, her eyes scanning the outside. No address. No name. Just the symbol.
He nodded grimly. "It's from him."
Ra-hee's heart dropped. "Your father?"
Jae-hyun gave a mirthless laugh. "No. Worse. It's from the man who raised me after my father was arrested. The real monster."
He stepped back, his eyes shadowed by memories she had never heard before.
"You know I used to be in the Black Lanterns, right? But you don't know how I got in. I didn't join willingly. I was sold."
Ra-hee's eyes widened.
"My father owed them money. After he got caught in a raid, they came for me. Said I was collateral. A debt paid in flesh." He gave a hollow chuckle. "They said I was lucky. That I would be raised to be a weapon."
Her chest tightened.
"And that man…" Jae-hyun's jaw clenched. "The one who 'trained' me… he was the founder of the Black Lanterns. We called him Chairman Baek. No one knew his real name. He raised me like a soldier, broke me like a dog, and built me back up like a killer."
He looked at her, eyes dark. "And now he wants me back."
Ra-hee's hand trembled. "What did the letter say?"
Jae-hyun pulled out a small, handwritten note from his back pocket and handed it to her.
'My son. My soldier. You've grown bold. Soft, even. But the game isn't over. You owe me one last job. Refuse—and the girl dies. You know how I work. No second warnings.'
Ra-hee's breath caught.
She didn't realize how tight she was gripping the paper until it crumpled in her hands.
"That… that psycho," she breathed. "He threatened me?"
Jae-hyun stepped forward and cupped her face in his hands. "Listen to me. He's bluffing. But he's dangerous enough to act on it if I don't move fast."
Ra-hee shook her head. "We can't give in. We can go to the police—"
"No." His voice was sharp, almost panicked. "You don't understand. Chairman Baek owns cops. Judges. Politicians. He's been in the shadows so long, no one even remembers his name. But he remembers everyone."
Ra-hee touched his chest. "Then what do we do?"
"I have to end it."
"Jae-hyun—"
"I have to go back to the Lanterns. Just for a while. I'll make him think I'm still loyal. Get close. And then… I kill him."
Her heart screamed in protest. "That's suicide!"
He gave her a soft, sad smile. "So is loving me, but you did it anyway."
Ra-hee slapped his chest, tears forming. "Don't joke! Don't you dare joke about this!"
He pulled her into his arms. "I'm not leaving you. I'm protecting you. I promise I'll come back."
She clung to him, her face buried in his neck, breathing him in like she might never smell him again.
"Promise me again," she whispered. "Say it. Say you'll come back."
He pressed his lips to her forehead. "I swear. Even if it's in pieces… I'll come back to you."
And in that quiet apartment, where love had once felt like a healing thing, it now felt like a blade—sharp, cutting, terrifying.
Because for the first time… Ra-hee realized love wasn't always about staying.
Sometimes… it was about surviving long enough to return.
To Be Continued...