Chapter 40

Silently, Taeheon approached and placed a finger under her nose.  

A breath, faint and fragile, brushed against his knuckle.  

She was alive.  

It should have been obvious, yet he questioned it every moment.  

Ever since the day he had dragged her, soaked and lifeless, from the sea to the emergency room.  

Just as his fingertip grazed her soft lips, Yaein flinched.  

“…Sorry. I must have dozed off.”  

Without looking at him, she lowered her head, pressing her cheek against her shoulder as she mumbled.  

She wouldn’t meet his eyes.  

It twisted something inside him.  

“Why are you apologizing?”  

“…I don’t know.”  

The same lifeless, indifferent reply as yesterday.  

She seemed to want nothing more than to escape his attention and rest.  

Taeheon lowered himself onto the rug and placed his hand on her knee.  

Her gaze flickered toward him, puzzled.  

The long brown skirt she wore was from her own belongings—a cheap fabric so thin that it clung to the outline of her legs.  

He spread his palm and let it slide down her calf.  

Yaein pressed her legs together.  

He could feel the goosebumps prickling against her skin.  

Without hesitation, Taeheon’s hand traveled further down, gripping her ankle.  

It was delicate—if he twisted it, it would break in an instant.  

Her wrist, too.  

Snapping her limbs would be as easy as breaking the stem of a flower.  

She wouldn’t even need them.  

Taeheon knew better than anyone how little of a body was required to keep someone alive.  

“…Taeheon, that hurts.”  

Even as her breath hitched in protest, he didn’t loosen his grip.  

His fingers, pressing down like shackles, left her skin drained of color.  

He simply looked up at her.  

Yaein’s eyes wavered with unease.  

Slowly, Taeheon bent her ankle to the side.  

Then, suddenly, he tightened his grip as if to snap it.  

Yaein flailed, trying to pull her foot away and lift it onto the sofa.  

Desperately, she struggled, kicking at his shoulder—but it didn’t hurt.  

Taeheon caught her knee firmly and met her gaze.  

Yaein panted, yanking down the crumpled fabric of her skirt.  

The hem, having ridden up, barely covered the space between her thighs.  

The veil concealing her emotions had finally slipped away.  

And beneath it—  

Fierce defiance.  

The same look she had when she fell from the cliff.  

“…You still want to leave me?”  

His fingers spread, creeping beneath the hollow of her knee, pressing against the sharpness of her bones.  

Yaein was breathing through parted lips, her chest rising and falling in short gasps.  

And yet, despite the ragged breaths, her words were unmistakably clear.  

“My answer hasn’t changed.”  

Even before she fell into the sea.  

Whether he broke her ankle, whether he kept her locked away—her answer wouldn’t change.  

Taeheon knew that.  

If she had the child, she would find a way to protect it.  

And if he took that child from her, she would find a way to ensure he never saw her again.  

By any means necessary.

Taeheon’s fingers slowly slid down from Yaein’s knee.  

Truly, he was beginning to understand.  

If Kwon Taeheon existed in her life, this woman would remain miserable.  

That much, Yaein had tolerated.  

Lee Yaein was accustomed to suffering.  

“…Is that so?”  

Taeheon asked, his tone devoid of emotion.  

He was killing her.  

Just as he had once driven another woman to hang herself, he would eventually destroy Yaein as well.  

Just as he had nearly done in that raging sea.  

The moment replayed in his mind—waves crashing against his face, the current dragging them under as he clung to her limp body.  

The way she had felt in his arms as he pulled her from the freezing depths.  

How her pulse had been so faint he could barely detect it.  

Her skin, pale as death, carried no warmth.  

The car had shaken violently on the way to the hospital.  

No.

It was Taeheon who had been trembling.

In the backseat, he had wrapped her cold, lifeless body in his coat and held her close.  

Water dripped from her hair, seeping into his skin.  

And yet, inside, he burned.  

“…So you’d rather die with the baby?”  

Yaein’s tearful eyes met his as she nodded.  

A sharp pain struck his ribs, as if someone had punched him.  

His throat burned, his vision stung, like when seawater had flooded his lungs.  

It shouldn’t have mattered.  

He had always thought life was meaningless.  

Whenever he saw people groveling to survive, he had laughed at them.  

They didn’t understand—life wasn’t worth such desperate struggle.  

Especially not for people like him.  

Or for the filth who begged at his feet.  

But the moment he saw Yaein sink beneath the waves, he knew.  

Lee Yaein was more important than Kwon Taeheon.  

He didn’t want to acknowledge it.  

But he had no choice.  

Yaein mattered.  

She was different from the wretched monsters of this world.  

Her death would not be insignificant.  

It would be unbearable.  

Taeheon let out a weak chuckle.  

A faint, bitter laugh escaped through parted lips.  

“…Shall we make a bet?”  

Before she could ask what he meant, he moved.  

Among the belongings hastily brought to this house, there was a toy—a gift he had once received.  

He reached for the box on the shelf, unwrapping the silk cloth that covered it.  

The cold metal pressed against his palm, offering a familiar sense of stability.  

Taeheon sat down across from Yaein.  

Between them, he placed a revolver.  

The weight of it caused the round table to tremble slightly, producing a soft, ominous sound.  

Yaein stared at the weapon, her expression unreadable.  

“…Is that a gun?”  

Her lips quivered.  

Taeheon picked up the revolver and emptied half the bullets from the chamber.  

The discarded rounds spun across the tabletop.  

“The odds are fifty-fifty.”  

He spun the cylinder.  

“If I pull the trigger and it’s empty… then I get to do whatever I want.”  

“No matter how much I break you, I won’t let you go.”  

“But if it’s loaded…”  

Then, he would let her go.  

He would finally, truly grant her wish.  

Because that was the only way he could. 

“You take everything. No one knows you’re here. Whatever happens, you won’t be involved—I’ve already taken care of everything. Just take the money, stay hidden, and attend the funeral. That’s all you need to do.”  

Taeheon had ensured Yaein’s safety long ago, right after their marriage.  

He wanted to.  

He wrapped the scarf around the trigger before offering the gun to her.  

Even if fingerprints were left behind, it wouldn’t be a problem, but it was better to handle things cleanly.  

Yaein flinched as if he had pointed the barrel at her instead.  

Her chair scraped loudly against the floor as she instinctively pushed back.  

“Do you even realize what you’re saying right now?”  

“My mind is perfectly clear.”  

“No. You’re out of your mind.”  

“I think you said that to me before.”  

Taeheon tried once again to place the gun in Yaein’s hand, but she refused to touch it, instead gripping his arm tightly.  

“Taeheon, let’s talk this through. You don’t have to go this far. All I want is for the baby to be safe.”  

No.  

She still didn’t understand the real problem.  

The problem is Kwon Taeheon.

Taeheon would ruin her.  

He knew he would.  

“Don’t do anything reckless.”  

“I only do reckless things.”  

Taeheon muttered under his breath.  

There was no reason to stop.  

This was a bet where he had nothing to lose.  

If the chamber was empty, fine. He would keep Yaein locked away and break her, just as he had always planned. 

If the chamber wasn’t…  

That was fine too.  

Endings had never scared him.  

If this was where it all ended, then Lee Yaein would remember him forever.  

She would never be free of him.  

His memory would haunt her, whispering in the quiet moments of her life, surfacing in nightmares.  

A wound that would never heal.  

“Put that away, and let’s start over.”  

Yaein’s voice was steady, each word spoken with careful precision.  

She looked at him.  

The way she had that very first day.  

Those eyes—so clear, so untainted.  

Eyes that had never known sin.  

That’s what he loved.  

Anyone could wear a convincing mask.  

What he wanted was what lay beneath—something raw, something warm, something fragile.  

That purity.  

That uniqueness.  

“…You’re right. I was wrong.”  

Taeheon lowered the gun.  

Relief spread across Yaein’s face, softening her features.  

“I couldn’t possibly make you do something like that.”  

Then, Taeheon turned the barrel toward himself—  

And pressed it against his temple. 

She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.  

The small revolver was pointed at Taeheon.  

All it would take was a pull of the metal trigger, and he would be dead.  

Her thoughts scattered.  

She couldn’t even spare a breath.  

Yaein screamed as she lunged at Taeheon.  

She clawed at his forearm, struggling to wrest the gun from his grip.  

The revolver fell, rolling across the floor.  

Even after successfully pinning Taeheon to the ground, Yaein kept all her strength pressed against him.  

“Don’t move.”  

It would have been easy for him to push her off, but Taeheon let her do as she pleased.  

Yaein grabbed his limp hand, bringing it away from the gun.  

Even without resistance, his limbs were heavy.  

“Don’t do this.”  

If he wanted, Taeheon could easily snatch the gun back.  

Just the thought of him turning the barrel on himself made her whole body seize with fear.  

“…Alright.”  

Lying beneath her, Taeheon spoke at last.  

It was his life that had nearly slipped away, yet his voice was as composed as ever.  

“Really?”  

“I’m serious. I won’t do it, so you can let go now.”  

Even with his reassurance, she couldn’t bring herself to move away so easily.  

Her eyes flicked toward the revolver.  

“I promise.”  

His tone was gentle, coaxing.  

His thumb brushed against the corner of her eye, tracing away the dampness there.  

Yaein blinked rapidly, shedding the last of her tears, then slowly moved aside.  

She pressed her hands to the floor to steady herself, reaching out to drag the revolver toward her.  

The smooth metal felt sickening beneath her fingers.  

She hated even touching it.  

“If it makes you uneasy, I’ll unload the bullets and leave them on the table.”  

“Tell me how. I’ll do it myself.”  

Taeheon raised an eyebrow, as if her wariness amused him.  

She had no idea what he was thinking.  

She couldn’t understand him.  

A man who had felt relief when their first child was lost.  

A man who now wished the one inside her belly would disappear.  

A man who had just aimed a gun at himself, as if it were all some kind of joke.  

Maybe that was why people feared him.  

Because what you can’t understand is always the most terrifying.  

“I don’t trust you with it.”  

“I’d never shoot someone with this.”  

“You could make a mistake. You might hurt yourself.”  

Taeheon moved closer, reaching for her hand still gripping the gun.  

He brushed his fingers over the back of it, as if to loosen her hold.  

“I only thought it would be an interesting bet for both of us.”  

“How could—”  

How could that ever be good for me?  

Before she could finish, Taeheon took the revolver from her grasp.  

She tensed in alarm but sensed he wasn’t about to harm himself again.  

His fingers traced the chamber, then he looked at her.  

“Cover your ears.”  

“What?”  

Without waiting for her to comply, he grabbed her hands and pressed them firmly over her ears.  

Yaein hesitated but kept them in place.  

Satisfied, Taeheon stretched out his arm.  

Then, without hesitation, he aimed the gun at the wall—  

And pulled the trigger.