Chapter 69

“Throw it here.”

Taeheon tossed the item he’d been holding. While Seonghwan fumbled to pick it up, footsteps faded behind them. He wanted to turn around—wanted to look one last time—but he didn’t. He didn’t want to draw his father’s attention.

It might be the last time, and he wouldn’t even see her back as she left. The thought stung, but there was no helping it.

It’s okay. Even without seeing her, everything about her felt vivid—her scent, her warmth. He could imagine her still right beside him.

In place of his vanished wife stood Seonghwan—his father, ready to kill.

Taeheon dropped to one knee, then the other. His gaze fell.

When he was fully kneeling, Seonghwan stepped up to him.

“What’s this supposed to be? You gonna beg for your life now?”

The muzzle of the gun pressed against his forehead. He felt the lukewarm metal against his skin.

“Yes,” Taeheon replied. 

“Please, Father. Spare me.”

It was sincere.

He didn’t want to die—not when he had someone waiting for him. He’d do anything, however pathetic, to survive. To see her again.

He raised his eyes. Seonghwan’s face stiffened in shock.

He must’ve realized it, too—Taeheon meant every word.

And for that very reason, Seonghwan wouldn’t let him live.

Seonghwan’s lips twisted into a grin, baring his teeth. Taeheon’s focus stayed locked on his father’s finger curled around the trigger.

The trigger moved.

Taeheon grabbed the barrel and wrenched it sideways. A deafening shot rang out, tearing at his ears. The scorched muzzle seared his skin.

As Seonghwan tried to wrest the gun back into aim, Taeheon twisted his wrist hard. Seonghwan howled.

*Bang!* 

Another shot exploded. Woodchips burst from a nearby tree trunk.

The ringing in Taeheon’s ears drowned out all sound. A strange silence fell over the world.

Even through the noise and pain, Seonghwan didn’t stop. He battered at Taeheon, trying to line up a clean shot. Wind brushed the space above Taeheon’s shoulder. He had nearly taken a bullet to the neck.

His wound was slowing him down. Blood surged from him in gurgling coughs. He could barely stay conscious.

Then Seonghwan jammed his fingers into Taeheon’s open wound. A scream tore from Taeheon’s throat, raw and animalistic.

White-hot pain paralyzed him. By the time he could move again, Seonghwan was already on top of him, straddling him, triumphant.

Seonghwan leveled the gun at Taeheon’s face, smug with victory.

Taeheon only stared back, silent and unflinching.

“Trying to preserve a little pride at the end?” Seonghwan panted, taunting.

Still no response.

The trigger clicked.

*Tick.*

No bang. No flame. Just a pathetic little click.

Seonghwan froze, dumbfounded.

Taeheon didn’t.

He flipped Seonghwan in one swift motion, pinning him down.

“You forgot to count,” he growled. “It’s a six-shot revolver.”

One shot at the warehouse. 

One during the chase. 

One that hit Taeheon. 

Three wild misses.

Six..

Taeheon had been waiting for this moment.

He clenched his hands around Seonghwan’s throat. 

Squeezed until he could feel the life choking out of him.

“Kh… Kaack—!”

Seonghwan struck Taeheon’s head with the gun barrel as he struggled. When Taeheon subdued Seonghwan’s arm, the gun rolled away into the fallen leaves.

Amid the scuffle, one of their flailing feet kicked the gun even farther. Now, conditions were about even. 

Seonghwan no longer had the upper hand.

While Taeheon’s grip slightly loosened, Seonghwan desperately grabbed his wrist and began babbling incoherently. 

“Think again. Let’s go back down, and I’ll give you everything. The company, the fortune, all of it… I’m your father.”

He spewed every possible excuse now that the tables had turned. Taeheon let out a short laugh and tightened his grip around Seonghwan’s throat. 

“You should’ve done that from the beginning.”

He should have clung to his mother—not stayed and died with this man. 

The only ones fit for hell were the two of them.

Yeein was never meant to be buried in a grave with Taeheon. 

As soon as he thought of her, a dull blow struck his temple. Blood flowed into his eyes, tinting his vision red. Fresh blood soaked his lashes and dripped down. His world flipped upside down.

Through the dizziness that felt like his skull had caved in, Taeheon forced himself to look ahead. 

Seonghwan was laughing down at him, holding a bloodied rock.

His logical mind, trained to ignore pain, calculated the steepest slope nearby. If he grabbed Seonghwan and rolled down, he could cause a fatal injury—though it would likely be the end for him too.

He had to move quickly, but the memory of Yaein stalled him. 

Pale, slender arms seemed to stop his own. Blood pooled again at the corners of his eyes.

He really didn’t want to die.

If only he could see her once more.

He should’ve hugged her one last time before letting her go. He thought he’d made peace with everything, but now that the end was here, all he felt was regret. 

What would their child’s name be? Would they truly resemble him? Would they remember their father’s voice?

The hesitation was brief. Leaving Seonghwan alive meant he’d always be a threat to Yeein and the baby. 

Taeheon mustered the last of his strength to lunge for Seonghwan.

“Let him go.”

A cold voice pierced through the air.

He thought it was a hallucination—a voice conjured from longing. 

But when he looked up, there stood Yaein, just a few steps away.

She held the revolver Seonghwan had discarded, aiming it squarely at him. 

Seonghwan was as stunned as Taeheon, staggering to his feet.

“What are you going to do with a gun that doesn’t even have bullets?!”

He spat, but Yaein calmly raised a golden bullet between her fingers. It glinted clearly in the light.

Taeheon stared in a daze as she loaded the gun. The memory of teaching her how to fill the chamber flickered through his mind.

Even now, a laugh escaped his bloody lips. 

His wife wasn’t someone who gambled on fate.

She was someone who always chose for herself—no matter what.

“This is your last warning. Step away from my husband.”

“…Fine. Just calm down.”

Seonghwan seemed to back down, dropping the rock and lowering himself toward the ground— 

But suddenly, he lunged at her.

Taeheon barely managed to grab his ankle. 

A gunshot rang out almost simultaneously.

Seonghwan screamed, clutching his knee in agony. 

The scream was as loud as the gunshot itself.

As Taeheon let go of Seonghwan’s ankle, the man crumpled to the ground, curling up in pain. 

Between his fingers, bone showed through the shredded skin—his joint was clearly shattered.

Taeheon felt pure joy. 

Perhaps due to the excruciating pain, Seonghwan finally passed out. 

Taeheon’s own vision blurred with him. He was still bleeding out—sleepiness washed over him in waves. A familiar drowsiness.

“Taeheon!”

Yeein’s tearful voice yanked him back to reality.

“You can’t fall asleep. Stay with me.”

“…I told you to run.”

“I told you I wouldn’t leave you.”

Her voice was firm. Stubborn.

And then she tried, with all her might, to carry a man twice her size.

“This is a first for me too…”

“What is?”

“Having someone come to save me…”

Taeheon murmured. Yaein had literally risked her life to come back and save him—just as she had once been willing to die with their child. 

The warmth of her body against his awakened something in him. She was using every ounce of her strength to support him.

Taeheon stood on his own. Holding onto Yaein, who wobbled like a hollow reed, he began to descend. They had to get out of here.

The more he walked, the clearer his mind became. Maybe the flood of adrenaline was snapping him awake. Taeheon moved his rusted, broken limbs with only one thought in mind: *Keep going.*

He pressed the key fob and the sedan chirped in reply from nearby. It wasn’t far—he could reach it before his strength gave out.

He swallowed painkillers from the glovebox. Luckily, it seemed he could still drive.

“The nearest hospital…”

He couldn’t finish the sentence. The seat next to him was hauntingly quiet. 

Alarmed, Taeheon reached for Yaein, curled up in the passenger seat.

Her skin was cold, the sweat drying off. Taeheon’s eyes shifted downward.

Water was running down her legs. 

The seat was soaked.

***

Like all hospitals, the lobby was bustling regardless of the time of day.

But the ordinary buzz turned tense when slow, sticky footsteps echoed through the automatic doors.

People who had been staring at the display board or killing time in silence began turning their heads one by one.

A subtle commotion stirred the hospital lobby.

A blood-soaked man had walked in, carrying what looked like a corpse.

Each staggering step left a dark stain on the floor.

Gasps broke out among onlookers at the gruesome sight. The receptionist stood up, flustered, and medical staff rushed in from across the hall.

The “corpse” in the man’s arms stirred, an arm dangling weakly. 

She was alive.

While the staff hurried both of them into emergency care, murmurs rippled through those still in the lobby, eyes fixed on the trail of blood. 

Soon, a worker came to wipe the stains away.

***

It felt like being submerged underwater. 

The distant sound of waves—impossible if this were truly the ocean—echoed faintly, and gentle currents rocked her like a cradle.

Yaein tried to lift her eyelids. 

But they were far too heavy—she didn’t think she could open them at all.

Moving even a single layer of skin felt impossibly hard.

Maybe… she should just fall back asleep. Let her body drift in this warm tide.

But a fragile sound tugged at her sinking awareness.

Was that… crying?

Who was crying? Who was sobbing like that, all alone, with no one to comfort them?

Yaein opened her eyes.

“……”

She parted her lips to call out, but no sound came. Only breath escaped.

Her limbs, as heavy as if they were made of metal and sand instead of flesh and bone, barely responded. Still, she managed to raise a hand and touch Taeheon’s cheek.

A face twisted with tears stared back at her. Hot tears streamed between her fingers.

*You’re crying too.* 

*Because of me.*

“I’m okay,” she whispered.

Her voice was rough, hoarse, cracking with each word. It hurt to speak, but she had to say it—he needed to hear it.

Taeheon pressed his face into her palm. His fevered forehead and the bridge of his nose touched her skin. His damp eyelashes tickled as they fluttered.

His sobs passed through her skin like blood, as if his sorrow was flowing through her veins.