Chapter 68

“Taeheon, it’s me. You’re really going to stab the father who raised you in the back? What kind of example is that for the child you’re about to have?”

Yaein winced as she straightened up. She hated hearing her father-in-law bring up the baby.

“Don’t worry about your wife, she’s right here with me. What, don’t believe me?”

Looking clearly displeased, Seonghwan clicked his tongue. He went quiet for a moment, listening to something Taeheon said, before getting up and walking toward Yaein, phone in hand.

Yaein tensed up as he approached. She barely managed not to drop the phone when he held it out to her.

—”I’m in Korea. I’m coming straight to you.”

Korea? How— She nearly gasped aloud but managed to swallow the sound. Her pulse thudded through every inch of her body.

—”From now on, if what I say is correct, just say you’re okay. If it’s wrong or you don’t know, say nothing.”

That voice—exactly the one she’d needed most—was whispering urgently in her ear. Taeheon was trying to save her.

She wasn’t alone.

The certainty of it wrapped around her like a shield. It was different from just hoping he’d come. Now she knew. Tangibly, undeniably.

“I’m okay, honey,” she said, calm and clear.

Taeheon replied in a hushed voice full of focus:

—”From the echo, it’s not a port container… are you in the mountains?”

“Yes. And the baby’s okay too.”

—”Is it just my father, or are there more people?”

“……”

—”Do you have the gun I gave you?”

Yaein moistened her lips.

“Everything’s okay, so please be careful.”

She hadn’t even finished speaking before Seonghwan yanked the phone out of her hands.

“You heard that, didn’t you? She says she’s fine. Now that you’ve finished your little chat with your wife, how about talking to your old man again?”

He chuckled at whatever Taeheon said next, then hung up. Yaein kept watching him, eyes darting toward the warehouse exits.

Taeheon *would come. She believed it.

***

“If my wife makes it out safe, I don’t care about anything else.”

Taeheon spoke gently, borrowing Yaein’s tone—how she always sounded when trying to comfort or convince someone.

“I’ll even hand over the evidence you want. Just tell me where to bring it. I’ll send someone.”

Even as he asked for a location, Taeheon was already driving toward the most likely place.

It would have to be isolated, out of reach of his close subordinates, somewhere not far from the airport.

With those filters, the list of possible locations narrowed immediately. There was one mountain storage site in particular—an old warehouse they used to use for smuggling goods, long before he took over the business.

As long as he arrived in time. Yaein was a hostage—they wouldn’t hurt her badly.

They couldn’t.

But his father had always found new ways to defy Taeheon’s expectations.

Taeheon gripped the steering wheel until it creaked under his hands.

The car surged forward, faster and faster.

***

“What do you think Taeheon said to me just now?”

Seonghwan loomed over Yaein, his tone mockingly grand as if revealing something profound.

“He said he’d do anything I asked, as long as I let his wife live. He was practically begging.”

While Seonghwan puffed himself up, Yaein stood her ground with her arms folded tightly across her chest.

“Still, actions have consequences. You don’t mess with Kwon Seonghwan and walk away unscathed. That’s not how this works.”

She thought of a gutted fish—its blank, sunken eye sockets. From the moment she arrived, Yaein had known she wouldn’t leave this place unharmed.

“And Taeheon, you know, he only said ‘wife’—didn’t say a thing about the baby.”

She had expected this. But when the moment actually came, her mind reeled.

‘Stay focused’  she told herself, grounding every nerve in her toes.

“Hey. Secretary Kim.”

A gesture from Seonghwan signaled the blade poised at Yaein’s back to withdraw. 

Kim, gripping the knife anew, moved to stand in front of Yaein. She slipped her hand out from inside her coat. As she moved quickly, dust rose in a pale cloud from the ground.

Yaein raised the gun.

***

Taeheon couldn’t remember how he’d even managed to drive. The moment the warehouse appeared through the trees, he was out of the car.

The red scarf was the first thing he saw. The end of it was soaked with blood, a streak of red trailing across the floor.

Someone lay collapsed beside it.

Taeheon rushed over and turned the body over—Kim groaned faintly, barely breathing as he recognized his master.

“Young master… how are you here…?”

Ignoring Kim’s stunned whisper, Taeheon’s face twisted in grim despair.

Yaein was gone.

So was his father.

“Which way did they go?” Taeheon snarled, pressing down on the gunshot wound.

Kim clenched his teeth against the pain, refusing to speak even as blood soaked the floor.

Taeheon stood up. He had seen it—where Kim’s eyes darted when he asked the question.

Two sets of footprints, disturbed and smeared in the dusty ground, pointed to the exit.

***

They scoffed coldly at Yaein, standing with the gun raised.

“A toy gun in shaking hands. What are you gonna do, shoot?” Seonghwan sneered.

Yaein didn’t waver. She steadied her arms.

“I can do it.”

The revolver was loaded. The weight of it felt right in her hands.

“Taeheon taught me.”

“You? You couldn’t hurt a fly. I know you.”

He wiped the smirk from his face and said it like fact. Yaein wanted to argue—but deep down, she wondered too.

*Could I really shoot someone?*

Imagining the bullet flying, tearing through flesh, blood spilling—it made her hands tremble, despite herself.

While Seonghwan rambled, Kim subtly shifted his foot, preparing to lunge. Yaein caught the movement and swung the gun toward him.

She thought of Taeheon.

A thunderclap exploded in the warehouse.

Kim collapsed.

Seonghwan’s eyes flew open in shock as blood pooled across the concrete. Kim twitched once on the floor.

The recoil jolted Yaein’s shoulder. Her whole back ached as if her wings had been struck.

She barely managed to regain her stance before Seonghwan ducked behind a stack of crates.

Six bullets left.

She wasn’t confident she could hit him as he moved. And her belly throbbed again—sharp and deep.

Her ears rang, and her balance was off, but she turned and ran for the exit.

Outside, there was only forest. If she could just hide until Taeheon arrived—

But then came the sound. Leaves rustling. Feet pounding against dirt.

Yaein forced her aching legs to move faster. Each step stabbed through her soles. Her belly dragged her down like iron.

Seonghwan was closing in. He knew she wouldn’t be able to turn and shoot while running.

If only she could widen the distance… get out of his line of sight… she could fire.

Hot breath ghosted against her neck. She stumbled on a root and faltered. Her ankle twisted with a jolt.

A hand—cold and merciless—snatched the back of her collar. She thrashed, but it was too late.

She tried to lift the gun, finger already on the trigger.

But Seonghwan twisted her wrist with brutal force. Yaein screamed. She tried to resist, and pain exploded as his fist struck her elbow.

“Ugh—!”

The dropped gun hit the ground. Yaein reached for it, but Seonghwan was faster. 

Instead of picking it up, he shoved her hard.

She tumbled down a slope—there was no stopping herself. The forest path pummeled her from all sides. Her head rattled with every blow.

She braced for a brutal impact—but it never came.

Familiar arms caught her.

She didn’t need to look to know who it was. Yaein bit back a sob.

“I’m not too late, right?”

The question, breathless and broken, sent a shiver through her.

There was no time to call his name. Taeheon, glancing upward, pushed Yaein flat to the ground.

A deafening gunshot cracked through the mountain.

Taeheon shielded her with his entire body—broad and solid, leaving no gap. Realizing what that meant, Yaein gasped for breath.

His side was wet. Her hand came away red.

The smell of blood rushed in. Her vision spun. She bit her inner cheek hard, forcing herself to stay conscious, and pulled him down with her into the undergrowth.

She pressed her palms against the wound. His face had gone pale, his eyes shut.

“Taeheon… Are you okay?”

“…I’m okay.”

His voice was faint, flickering like a candle about to go out. He propped himself up on the dirt floor.

“I’ve been shot before. This is nothing.”

He even made it sound like a joke. Yaein knew he was pretending, for her. She couldn’t say a word.

“Let me see it.”

She tried to examine the wound, but her voice faltered. His side was nearly torn open.

“If you go down the hill, my car’s there,” Taeheon panted, pointing. “It’s not far. I’ll buy you time.”

Yaein shook her head furiously, hair clinging to her sweaty cheeks. Her face was pale.

“What are you talking about? I’m not leaving you.”

“You’re not alone.”

Taeheon laid his hand on her belly. His large fingers traced the round curve.

“It’ll be a child like me.”

For the first time, that thought brought comfort.

Yaein gripped his hand tightly. Her tear-filled eyes locked with his. The pain blurred, and everything began to make sense.

Because you’re beautiful… I’d give up everything.

“I love you.”

The words spilled out like water overflowing a cup.

Yaein’s eyes widened. Taeheon swallowed the sweetness of the confession lingering on his tongue.

“Thank you. If not for you… I never would’ve known.”

He had been so afraid he might never get the chance to say it. And now, somehow, peace washed over him—strange and out of place, yet real. He had truly loved someone, in a way that was different from how he had ever known love.

Footsteps were approaching. Seonghwan wasn’t letting them get away.

Taeheon pressed the car key into Yaein’s palm and pushed her.

“Go. Now.”

He had so much more to say. But in this moment, he couldn’t think of a single word. 

Except: *please get away. Please be safe.*

Yaein tried to hold on to him, but he pushed her away—firm, final.

Then he rose, hands raised.

Seonghwan stood nearby, revolver poised to shoot.

Taeheon lifted one hand even higher. Between his fingers, a USB drive gleamed

“As promised,” he said calmly. “I brought the foundation records.”