Chapter 21

Just before making a decision, subtle, nagging thoughts always surfaced—like a rough edge catching on his nerves.  

For instance, the breathless way Yaein had spoken when he told her he wouldn’t be home tonight.  

Taeheon picked up his phone again.  

The dial tone rang, but the call didn’t connect.  

He glanced at his watch.  

It was late enough that she might not be able to answer.  

After waiting for a moment, he ended the call.  

Decision made.

“Go home.”  

“Aren’t we heading to Incheon to finish things up?”  

“I need to check something first.”  

It could be a waste of time, but Taeheon preferred to be thorough.  

Even as the car sped toward the house, unease clung to his mind like a faint stain, refusing to fade.  

When he stepped into the entrance, an eerie silence greeted him.  

This time, he didn’t storm through the house like a madman.  

Instead, he calmly put his shoes back on.

There was no need to look closely at the documents left on the living room table. He already knew what they were. 

Stepping back outside, he made his way to the garage.  

Then, he simply stood there, staring at the empty space where a car should have been.

As if watching long enough would tell him exactly when it had disappeared.  

His subordinate watched him anxiously but remained silent.  

Still fixated on the empty spot, Taeheon issued a command.  

“Call off the operation in Incheon.”  

“…Sir?”  

“Tell the boss he can speak with my father. If my father tells him to let it go, then release him. Fill the missing shipments with the Russian supply.”  

For once, even his right-hand man looked visibly unsettled.  

It was understandable.  

Taeheon never changed his decisions—especially not like this.  

“I thought you planned to completely overhaul the trade network.”  

As his subordinate cautiously voiced the question, Taeheon flicked off the garage light.  

“You know what *sunjang* is, right?”  

“Burying servants alive with the dead?” His subordinate scoffed, treating it like a joke.  

“What, you plan on making that bastard your father’s funeral offering?”  

“You catch on fast.”  

At the quiet remark, his subordinate’s face stiffened. 

A cold wind swept through the night.  

When Taeheon had first learned about **sunjang**—the practice of burying the living alongside the dead in a grand tomb—he had thought, *this must be what it means to drag someone to hell.*  

No man who insisted on taking a woman with him to the grave could ever reach paradise.

Taeheon’s lips curled into a cold, mirthless smile.  

He was that kind of man.

A man who would drag a living woman straight into hell with him.

“Where are you headed?” 

Taeheon’s subordinate called after him as he strode toward the parked car in the garage.  

“I need to find the one who’ll be buried with me.”

His voice was little more than a murmur.

“If I don’t pick up when you get to Incheon, ask my father how to handle things.”  

As he found the key and unlocked the door, the familiar scent of motor oil filled the cabin.  

“I have a feeling I’ll be busy dealing with *family matters* for a while.”  

This was where he was born.  

And this was where he would rot.  

Dragging one more person down into this pit with him didn’t even stir something as trivial as guilt. 

A woman trapped inside a golden, silk-lined tomb—she must have gone mad in there.  

He could almost hear her screams, high and keening, like a caged bird.

The car rumbled to life, its low, guttural sound breaking the stillness.  

The vehicle picked up speed, chasing the unseen figure vanishing ahead.  

***

A lively pop song played through the speakers.  

The lyrics chanted an eager wish for eternal happiness as Yaein accepted her change.  

“Thank you. Have a good night.”  

*Have a good night.*  

The cashier’s robotic farewell settled in her chest.  

Yaein smiled, returning the farewell before stepping outside.  

The highway rest stop bustled with late-night drivers.  

Though the air here was thick with exhaust rather than fresh night air, she still inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of the open road.  

How long had it been since she’d driven this far alone?

The sense of freedom washed over her. 

With a lighter heart, Yaein made her way back to the car.  

Inside the plastic convenience store bag were bottled water and snacks.

At home, even water had been difficult to swallow—but now, she felt hungry.

Seeing all the neatly arranged food at the store had made her buy on impulse. 

She tore open a package of fish cakes. 

She had never cared for cheap convenience store odeng before, yet now, the warm, slightly sweet broth coated her tongue perfectly.

She devoured three skewers in quick succession before finally sighing in relief.  

“It’s delicious.”  

The words left her without thought.  

Better than fine grilled fish, better than expensive Hanwoo steak—this thousand-won fish cake tasted better than all of them.  

“You must not take after your dad when it comes to food. Your father’s a *really* picky eater.”  

Yaein chuckled, tidying up her trash.  

It felt nice to talk freely to the baby without worrying about someone overhearing.  

As she reached into her bag to put away her wallet, she froze.  

Her phone screen glowed from inside.  

A missed call.  

Her husband’s number. 

Her stomach plummeted.  

The laughter dried up in an instant.  

Goosebumps prickled along her arms as a cold dread crawled up her spine.  

She rubbed her fingers together, trying to coax blood back into them.  

The tension made her vision blur.  

Why had he called?

It was past midnight.  

There was no reason for him to call her now.  

The fact that she had missed it gnawed at her.  

If she hadn’t been so distracted by eating…  

“Get a grip.”  

She slapped her cheeks, the sting jolting her.  

“It’s fine.”

She reassured herself, taking a deep breath.  

It was just a phone call.  

There was no way he had already noticed her absence.  

She was overreacting.  

Besides, she was already far from home, heading somewhere her husband would never suspect.  

Once she reached her contact, she planned to get rid of the car. Switching taxis multiple times would make tracking her difficult.  

All she needed was *one day—no, just twelve hours.* 

That was enough time to escape without Taeheon finding out.  

“No need to be afraid. Everything will work out.”

She had already withdrawn all the money from the savings account she had built up during her school years.  

It wasn’t much, but it was enough to last for a while. 

With cash on hand, she could avoid using credit cards or her ID, making it harder to trace her movements. 

There were limits, of course.  

But if he helped her, things would be much easier.  

Yaein focused on the road signs, steadying her nerves.  

Seeing the names of places near her grandmother’s hometown brought her some comfort.  

She just needed to hide for a little while.  

Once Taeheon remarried, his parents and her own family would forget about her soon enough.  

And Taeheon… he wouldn’t look for her forever. 

Lately, he had become strangely persistent, but that didn’t mean he felt anything for her.  

It was just habit.  

The woman who had quietly stayed by his side for years was suddenly leaving—of course, it would feel strange to him.  

But once she was out of sight, she would be out of mind.  

Once she was far away and safely gave birth, she would finally feel at peace.  

Taeheon hated children.  

Even if he ever learned the child was his, he wouldn’t interfere.  

It was a bitter certainty, but it reassured her.  

She only needed to endure until the baby was born.  

Just one year.  

She had endured worse—her father’s suffocating home, her in-laws tormenting her with constant threats of divorce.  

She could endure this, too.

With renewed determination, Yaein merged onto the highway.  

She planned to drive without stopping.  

She hadn’t turned on the navigation, which made her slightly anxious about staying on the right path, but as long as she recognized the familiar regions, she would be fine.  

Once she reached the general area, she could switch to a taxi and give the driver the address. 

Waiting at a red light, she clutched the old phone she had packed separately.  

Still no reply.  

But once she arrived, he would meet her.  

He had to. 

She forced herself to believe that and continued driving.  

Then—her gaze flickered toward the side mirror.  

Something in the reflection kept catching her attention.  

It wasn’t clear, partially obscured by other cars, but it lingered in her vision.  

A vague sense of unease prickled at her.  

Hadn’t that car been there for a while?

The shape seemed *too* familiar.  

You’re being paranoid. You’re just overthinking.

Without warning, Yaein swerved onto the shoulder and took the exit.  

She drove down a narrow underpass, putting distance between herself and the main road.  

The wide highway shrank into a smaller road.  

Still nothing behind her.

After a while, she let out a deep breath.  

“See? It was nothing.”

Just her imagination.  

She must have been more nervous than she realized.  

Her tense shoulders finally relaxed.

She had strayed far from her intended route.  

As she scanned the road, looking for a way back to the main highway, her entire body froze.  

Behind her—the car appeared again.

She recognized it instantly.  

Taeheon’s car.

Her breath hitched.  

A choked cough escaped her throat as she struggled to breathe properly.  

It wasn’t a hallucination.  

It was real.

The car her husband always drove.  

The familiar make, the unmistakable license plate.  

Behind the dark-tinted windows, he was inside.  

Sitting in the driver’s seat.  

Watching her.  

Waiting.

Her gasping breaths filled the car.  

Yaein frantically searched for an escape route, eyes darting across the narrow, desolate road.  

She had taken a secluded path, avoiding the larger roads—now, it was working against her.  

There was barely enough space to turn around.  

‘I have to find another way out.’

She slammed her foot down on the gas pedal.  

The car surged forward, desperate to put distance between them.  

Then—the vehicle behind her lunged.

It accelerated aggressively, closing the gap in an instant.  

Yaein saw it in the mirror—he was going to ram her.

Her pulse pounded in her ears as she floored the accelerator.  

The speedometer shot up.  

The car trembled slightly as it raced down the uneven road.  

A deafening car horn split the air.  

It sounded like a predator’s roar.

So loud—so close.  

It rattled in her skull, making her flinch violently.  

“You belong to me.”

Taeheon’s whisper slithered into her mind.  

His words, once spoken against her ear, now echoed inside her head.  

Yaein yanked the wheel hard, swerving onto a narrow, single-lane road.  

Taeheon followed.  

His tires tore into the dirt path, kicking up dust as he veered off the main road.  

Her car jolted violently on the uneven ground—but so did his.

No matter how fast she went—  

He was catching up.

Yaein let out a choked, panicked scream.  

Taeheon’s car shot ahead, cutting her off completely.  

A thick cloud of dust billowed into the air.  

The sheer *certainty* of an imminent crash sent her foot slamming onto the brakes.  

**Ka-kak.**  

The tires screeched against the gravel road, jolting over loose stones.  

Her car skidded forward and—**just barely**—stopped before colliding with his.  

Everything froze.  

For a brief moment, an eerie silence settled over the scene.  

No.

Yaein collapsed against the steering wheel, gasping for breath.  

The horn blared beneath her weight—a piercing, wailing shriek that echoed through the empty road.  

Then—the front car door swung open.  

A silhouette stepped out.  

Tall. Broad. Overpowering.*

A man she could never win against.  

Bathed in the harsh glare of headlights, Taeheon looked like something out of a film—striking and terrifyingly surreal.

It felt like fingers had wrapped around her throat, squeezing tight.  

Yaein clutched the steering wheel, white-knuckled, staring straight ahead.  

A knock on the window.  

Tap. Tap.  

“Come out. Let’s talk.”

She remained silent, refusing to move.  

She couldn’t roll down the window.  

She couldn’t look at him.  

But Taeheon was patient.  

“Where were you going?”

Even now, his voice was infuriatingly calm.

Yaein forced herself to respond, though her voice wavered.  

“I just… wanted some fresh air. Thought I’d go for a drive.”  

A weak excuse.  

She turned her head slightly, as if casually avoiding his gaze.  

But there he was.  

Leaning against her car.

Hand braced against the roof, head tilted down—watching her.

Expression unreadable.  

It felt like she was back on her first school trip, sitting inside a safari bus, staring at a predator through a thin pane of glass.  

The animals had seemed tame then, too.  

But if they wanted to—if they decided to—

They could crush the vehicle in an instant.