Jin wanted to make amends—to earn her forgiveness, even if it took a lifetime.
If it meant spending every day righting the wrongs he had done to her, he would. He didn't care if she never loved him again. He just wanted to be someone worthy of her peace.
He picked up the phone again.
"Where is she now?" he asked, voice barely a breath.
Silence.
Then: "She's left the country, sir. Quietly. No public departure. We believe she went to England."
Gone.
Truly gone.
Not just from the estate. But from his world.
He dropped the phone and clutched the photo of her as a child.
Tears blurred the image.
He had to find her.
He had to make things right.
Not because he deserved her—but because she deserved the truth.
"I'll find you," he whispered. "I swear I will. And I will make it up to you, Hana. Even if I will dedicate my whole life in making it up to you."
Behind him, the bouquet of lilies lay broken on the floor.
They were never meant for Hana.
And now, it was too late.
Jin had never known true desperation until now.
He mobilized everything—private jets, international contacts, security networks, digital analysts. The entire force of the Ahn Group bent under one mission: find Hana Yang.
He didn't sleep. He didn't eat. Every hour wasted was another hour she slipped further from him.
This wasn't about pride.
It wasn't even about love anymore.
It was guilt.
It was obsession.
It was madness clawing at the edge of his sanity.
When the confirmation came—a wedding invitation intercepted through digital tracing—he dropped the file and stared at it like it was a death notice.
Hana Yang & Stephen Carlston
Wedding Ceremony – This Saturday – St. Elric's Chapel, England
The image of her smiling beside that man drove a spike through his chest. Stephen—noble, kind, amiable. Everything Jin wasn't when he met Hana. Everything she deserved.
But Jin couldn't accept it.
He wouldn't.
He was too late. But if fate could be cruel, he could be crueler.
He had destroyed her once by doubting her.
Now, he would destroy the whole world to win her back.
====
The morning of the wedding arrived like the calm before a storm.
The old English chapel was surrounded by cherry blossoms and guarded by stone angels. It looked too peaceful to be the place where a man's last hope would shatter.
Jin arrived uninvited, of course—but not unnoticed.
He stood outside in a tailored black suit, staring up at the grand doors. His hair was unkempt, his eyes bloodshot. But his stance was firm—soldier-like. The expression on his face scared the staff.
Because Jin didn't look like a man attending a wedding.
He looked like a man about to start a war.
Inside, Hana adjusted her gown as the final preparations were made. Her grandparents hovered nearby, beaming with pride. She smiled back, but inside, her chest was tight. Not out of fear. Not regret.
Just a whisper of uncertainty.
She had made peace with her past. But a past like hers never stayed buried.
That's when the doors slammed open.
Gasps echoed through the hallway.
Jin Ahn strode in like a man possessed.
"Where is she?" he barked. "Where's Hana?"
Several guests backed away. A few men tried to stop him, but he shoved past them like they were made of air.
Hana stepped out from behind a folding screen.
Their eyes met.
The room went still.
Jin's heart stuttered.
She looked like something divine. Ethereal. Her gown shimmered like starlight, her hair pinned up with white roses. And the look on her face wasn't joy or surprise.
It was exhaustion.
"What are you doing here, Jin?" she asked, calm and clear.
"I came to take you back," he said, stepping closer.
She narrowed her eyes. "You don't get to take anything. Not anymore."
"I know," he whispered. "But I can't lose you. Not like this. Not when I've just realized the truth."
Hana frowned. "What truth?"
"I love you, Hana. I made a mistake. It's been you for the past ten years. Please . . . give me a second chance. I'll make it up to you—I promise. We can start over."
Hana looked at him, her expression unreadable. She didn't even know what he meant anymore.
"It's too late," she whispered. Her voice was soft, but final.
Whatever she had once felt for him—it had withered, quietly and completely. He had killed it with his indifference. With his choices. There was nothing left to give.
"No, it's not!" His voice broke. "I'll do anything, Hana. Give me one more chance. Just one. I'll prove myself to you. I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you."
She shook her head. "You think a dramatic entrance is enough to fix years of pain?"
"Cancel the wedding," he said. "Call the press. I'll expose Yuna. I'll destroy everything and everyone who hurt you. Even myself."
"Jin, stop."
He didn't.
His hands trembled now. "If you marry him . . . I won't survive it."
"That's not my responsibility."
He laughed, wild and broken. "Then I'll make it yours."
People started to murmur, sensing something was wrong.
Jin reached into his coat and pulled out a small device.
Gasps. Panic.
"This isn't a bomb," he said. "Yet."
Security rushed forward, but he raised a hand.
"One wrong move, and I'll blow this entire church to ash. Don't test me."
Hana froze.
"Are you insane?" she whispered.
"I told you. I'll burn the world before I let you go."
"You already let me go," she said. "The moment you chose to believe lies. The moment you whipped me. The moment you stayed silent when I begged."
Tears slid down her cheek, but she didn't move. She felt Stephen's hand on hers tightened.
"Have you not done enough to her already?" Stephen's voice rang through the chapel like a whip. His eyes burned with fury. "And now you want to ruin her wedding? Her chance at peace—at healing?"