Chapter 36

What worried Yaein more than any external injuries was the safety of the baby. She didn’t feel any immediate pain, so should she assume everything was fine?  

Taeheon’s voice broke through her thoughts.  

[— Have you eaten?  ]

“……”  

[— Make sure you eat properly. You barely ate when you were at home.]

Bringing up food in a situation like this felt strange.  

It was such an ordinary, mundane question, but hearing it now made it seem almost surreal. And yet, if Yaein didn’t mind it—if, in fact, she found a small, irrational comfort in it—was there something wrong with her?  

The man aggressively underlined the next part of the note that she hadn’t read yet. Yaein hesitated before continuing.  

“The money should be placed in a locker at Busan Station.”  

[— Date and time?]

The man, holding the cap of a marker between his teeth, scribbled hastily.  

“Two days from now. By 9 a.m.”  

[— Can’t we move it up to tomorrow? That’s too long to wait.]

An uncomfortable silence settled between the two kidnappers.  

They exchanged hurried, silent gestures before the man shook his head.  

“……No.”  

[— I see. If you say no, then there’s nothing I can do.]

He must have known that it wasn’t Yaein’s decision, that it was the captors’ conditions.  

The man gestured sharply, signaling her to end the call.  

“I’m hanging up now.”  

[— I miss you. ]

Yaein inhaled sharply.  

[— I miss you more than you think.]

Taeheon always had a way of shaking her, whether they were together or apart. It was always too easy for him.  

Before she could react, the call ended.  

The man ran his fingers over his mouth, gripping the phone tightly. 

“What the hell is with this guy?”  

While he grumbled in frustration, Bansak’s face had noticeably paled.  

Rubbing his nose nervously, Bansak hesitated before speaking in a subdued voice.  

“Hyung, maybe we should just stop this now.”  

His whisper, filled with unease, made the other man’s eyes widen in disbelief.  

“What? Are you out of your damn mind? We’re already this far in.”  

“I just… I don’t think we can handle this. And honestly… I’m scared. That director guy… he’s seriously not normal.”  

“What the hell are you saying now? This was your idea! You said it was brilliant!”  

“I mean, yeah, but… sh*t. I think I made a mistake.”  

“You were the one who said we’d just have someone pick up the money, then we’d disappear with the cash. No one would even suspect us. You said we were basically just collecting a reward for returning a missing person, you idiot!”  

Even as the man grabbed his collar and shook him, Bansak’s expression remained troubled.  

He looked terrified, making even his partner uneasy.  

“Let’s just let her go.”

Yaein gathered every ounce of courage she had and spoke to them. Both men turned to look at her at the same time.  

“I’m already running away from my husband. I have no reason to report you. If you let me go, I’ll disappear for good.”  

If they released her now, it would be as if nothing had happened. She kept her voice soft, almost coaxing.  

Bansak’s face twisted with hesitation.  

“Hyung…”  

“You crazy bastard! If you’ve drawn a knife, you might as well use it! Now you want to back out after coming this far? What, did you take some drugs or something?”  

The other man erupted in fury, veins bulging in his neck. He shouted and raged before suddenly grabbing the knife Bansak had set down.  

“W-why are you acting like this?”  

“What do you mean, why? We’ve already come this far—we need to see it through!”  

He waved the knife menacingly toward Bansak, who cowered like a child.  

“I need my fifty million, so shut up and just keep an eye on her.”  

Barking the order, the man stormed outside.  

Bansak hesitated, glancing at the door as if contemplating following him, but eventually sighed and dragged a chair over to sit down. He clutched his head, muttering curses under his breath.  

“F*ck. F*ck.”  

Hearing his distress, Yaein carefully arranged her thoughts.  

There was a chance he could be convinced.  

“If you let me go, I’ll disappear. Even if I wanted to report you, I couldn’t. No one knows who you are, and no one will ever know what happened here.”  

Bansak pressed his palm against the back of his head, his gaze lifting only slightly. His eyes, wide and gleaming like a cornered rat, darted toward her.  

“Shut up!”  

His twisted lips spat the words, flecks of saliva flying as he shouted.  

“My head is already about to explode, so just shut the hell up.”  

His voice was harsh, but his jittery, restless movements betrayed his growing anxiety.  

Yaein obeyed at first, staying silent. But after a moment, she carefully spoke again.  

“I have a child to protect. I can’t go back to my husband.”  

At the mention of the baby, Bansak’s face twisted further. He looked even more conflicted.  

Sensing his hesitation, Yaein pressed forward.  

“You wouldn’t even have to help me escape—just let me go. Pretend you didn’t see anything. If I disappear, you won’t be able to demand money anymore, and this whole situation will be over.”  

His fear, his regret—it was all too obvious. He had acted impulsively and was now second-guessing everything.  

If she pushed just a little more, he might actually listen.  

She was terrified. If she said the wrong thing, he might lash out, might do something reckless.  

But she had to try. She had to protect her child, no matter what.  

“You need money, right? I don’t have much, but I can give you cash. If you let me go, I’ll give it to you.”  

She thought of the money Gyeongju’s people had promised her. She could hand that over.  

Bansak swallowed hard at the mention of money.  

Yaein leaned forward slightly, her frail frame making the chair creak beneath her.  

Her weary yet striking gaze locked onto him, and for a moment, Bansak looked dazed, mesmerized by his own reflection in her pleading eyes.

***

“At least two of them.”

Taeheon reached his conclusion.

“One of them is an insider on our side.”

“Our employees?”  

The subordinate standing before Taeheon asked in disbelief. Taeheon tapped on the phone that had received the ransom call.

From the moment he picked up that unregistered number, a bad feeling had settled in his gut—like a needle pricking beneath his fingernail.  

To receive a call from his wife while sitting in a hotel room back in Busan—it was the last thing he had expected.  

Choosing to head straight back instead of staying overnight in Seoul had been the right call. Had he received the news from a distance, he might not have been able to restrain himself for even a second longer.  

“They knew we were looking for Lee Yaein, figured out where she was before we did, and even had my direct contact information. The ransom amount makes it obvious—this was a reckless, half-assed job by some amateur morons.”  

One of them was clearly an outsider. Taeheon could tell just from their disjointed conversation on the call.  

Perhaps it was Yaein’s secret lover. He had already sized up what kind of man it might be from the way they had spoken. It wouldn’t be surprising if such a bastard had pulled something like this.  

As for the other person, he had a good idea of who that might be.  

“Who was the last person we sent to the location where that taxi stopped in Busan? Track their address first.”

“I’ll find out immediately.”  

“They’ve got debt somewhere. Dig into that too.”  

The ransom sum was laughably small—everything about this situation reeked of desperation.  

Taeheon scoffed at the sheer absurdity of being blackmailed by such incompetent fools. The cynical smirk that crossed his face made his subordinate tense up, eyes darting nervously. The man gave a polite bow before stepping out of the room with careful, measured footsteps.  

As the presence of others faded, Taeheon unlocked his phone.  

A saved audio file was displayed on the screen.  

It felt like an eternity since he had last heard his wife’s voice.  

By the calendar, it hadn’t been that long.  

If Yaein had known what he was thinking right now, she would have reminded him that it had been shorter than his usual business trips.  

But back then, he had assumed she would always be there. When he returned, she would still be waiting.  

Taeheon pressed play on the recording.  

[── “Taeheon.”  ]

There was a slight tremor in her voice. Familiar. His wife’s voice.  

[── “We have your wife…”]

Taeheon ran a hand down his thigh, pressing against the growing heat beneath his palm. A deep exhale escaped his lips.  

He hadn’t expected to turn into some depraved bastard who would get hard while listening to a ransom call about his kidnapped wife.  

He swallowed back a twisted laugh.  

The sound of a zipper being undone filled the quiet hotel room.  

Then came the rhythmic slap of skin against skin, his breath becoming uneven.  

As the air thickened with humidity, the recording replayed over and over again.  

When he was done, he wiped his hands clean of the mess and raised the volume.  

Beyond the sweetness of her voice, there were things that stood out.  

The crude cursing, laced with a thick regional accent.  

The rustling of crumpled paper.  

And the sound of waves.  

“A beach…”

Taeheon tapped his fingernail against the table. Tap, tap. A steady rhythm.

A secluded place—isolated enough to hold a woman captive. A private property where no one would easily barge in. A location secure enough for a hastily planned crime to take place.

It wouldn’t be far from where Yaein was last seen, just a few hours’ drive. They must have transported her in a large vehicle.

Piecing together the abundance of clues, Taeheon retraced the silhouette of the shaven-headed man he had seen in the Busan office.

Those rough hands had undoubtedly grabbed Yaein.

The tapping halted abruptly.

The last time he had seen Yaein, she had looked fragile—like she might shatter at the slightest touch.

She wasn’t in any condition to be handled roughly by some filthy bastards from god-knows-where.

Taeheon rose from his seat. 

Stepping out of the bedroom, he saw a leather bag sitting alone on the coffee table, its surface gleaming under the light.

Waiting two days was out of the question.

He opened the bag. Inside, the elegant revolver rested in its place.

The empty cylinder gaped open—like a mouth waiting to be fed.

With the motion of tossing meat to a beast, Taeheon loaded the bullets. 

The chamber spun with a soft click.

***

The surveillance was lax. The two kidnappers left Yaein tied up and unattended, too preoccupied with arguing amongst themselves.

She had considered escaping. But with the baby, she couldn’t take reckless risks. The man openly carried a knife, making it clear that any attempt to flee could end badly.

Besides, they had driven quite a distance into this place—it would be difficult to escape on foot. For now, she focused on observing her surroundings.

Structurally, it looked like a house, but with hardly any furniture, it felt more like a storage building. It didn’t seem like anyone lived here. Perhaps it was an inherited property they didn’t know what to do with. Yaein recalled how long it had taken to sort out her grandmother’s country house.

Throughout the night, the man and Bansak took turns keeping watch over her, coming and going. 

By the time a pale blue dawnlight seeped through the windows, the man had gone out, and Bansak had taken his place. 

The sound of the door opening and closing stirred Yaein from her light sleep. 

Bansak was crouched in front of her. His face was hollow, dark circles shadowing his eyes—he hadn’t slept either.

“I thought about it,” he muttered, low enough that only she could hear.

He’s wavering. Yaein licked her dry lips.

“How are you going to give me the money?”

“There’s someone in my old neighborhood who can give it to you. If you take me there, I’ll hand it over right away.”

“You really won’t report us?”