The notification from the villain still burned on my screen.
"You love him. You always have. That love… will be your weakness."
I deleted it immediately, but it lingered like smoke in my lungs.
I held my daughter closer.
Mina's breath warmed my neck, small and steady.
Her innocence was the only pure thing in the nightmare I'd created.
But the threat wasn't aimed at Mina this time.
It was aimed at him.
At Jun-seo.
My chest tightened with a fierce, breathless ache.
This was the danger I feared the most:
Not losing myself.
Not losing my life.
Losing him.
Losing the one man I had tried so hard to protect—even when it meant breaking him.
I placed Mina gently on the bed, tucking her in, brushing her hair off her face.
Her lashes fluttered, but she stayed asleep.
Good.
I needed to fall apart alone.
I stepped into the small bathroom, closed the door, leaned against it—
—and finally let the tears fall.
Silent.
Sharp.
Burning down my cheeks like I had swallowed fire.
This wasn't fear.
It was something far worse.
Guilt.
Love.
Helpless, desperate love.
A relationship like ours wasn't supposed to survive lies, distance, a hidden child, a shattered past.
But it did.
It still lived in the way he said my name softly.
In the way he smiled at Mina like she was his entire world—even without being told she was his.
In the way he trusted me, even when I had done nothing to deserve it.
I pressed my palm to my mouth, muffling a sob.
The worst part was…
I wanted him.
I wanted him more now than I ever had.
And that made everything more dangerous.
Thud.
Thud.
Someone knocked on the door.
My blood froze.
My heart jumped violently, slamming against my ribs.
The safe house was hidden.
No one should know this location.
No one should be able to reach us.
I grabbed the small switchblade hidden under the sink.
Another knock.
This one softer.
"Ajin… it's me."
His voice.
Jun-seo.
I nearly dropped the knife.
He shouldn't be here.
He shouldn't even KNOW this place existed.
How—?
How did he find me?
My feet moved on their own until I stood staring at the door, my breath caught somewhere between relief and terror.
"Ajin," he said again, voice lower, gentler.
"I know you're inside. Please… open the door."
I pressed a hand to the wood, closing my eyes.
That one sentence alone nearly destroyed me.
His voice was tired.
Hurt.
Like he had been running for miles through worry alone.
Please… open the door.
He had every right to scream at me.
Blame me.
Demand answers.
But he didn't.
He asked softly.
Like he was the one afraid.
A trembling whisper escaped me before I could stop myself.
"Why are you here…?"
He let out a shaky breath on the other side.
"Because…"
A pause.
A small laugh of disbelief.
"…because I was worried about you."
My knees weakened.
I leaned my forehead against the door.
Tears welled again, hot and unwanted.
"You shouldn't be here," I whispered.
"It's not safe."
"I don't care," he replied immediately, voice steady.
"You think I can sleep after watching you disappear from the studio? After I saw the way you were shaking? Ajin… what's happening?"
I covered my mouth with my hand, suppressing a sob.
He didn't know he was being watched.
He didn't know about the threat.
He didn't know he was in danger simply because I loved him.
He didn't know—
"I'm coming in," he said suddenly, the shift in his tone making my heart stop.
"I'm not leaving you like this anymore. I'm done being kept outside. I'm done being pushed away."
"No!" I gasped, panic flooding me. "Jun-seo, wait—!"
But the lock clicked.
He had found the spare key.
Of course he had.
Of course he remembered where I used to hide them.
Of course he still knew me too well.
The door opened slowly.
Light spilled in.
And there he was.
Jun-seo.
Breathless.
Eyes wide with worry.
Hair slightly messy as if he had run all the way here.
Still wearing the jacket that smelled faintly of rain and ink.
His gaze swept over me.
My red eyes.
My trembling hands.
The knife still clutched loosely.
His expression broke.
"Ajin…"
His voice cracked.
"What happened to you?"
For a second—
just a second—
I wanted to throw myself into his arms and break there.
But I swallowed the desperate emotion down.
"This is why you shouldn't be here," I said, turning my face away so he couldn't see me fall apart. "You're in danger because of me."
He took a step closer.
"I don't care."
Another step.
"I've never cared about the danger."
And then—
He reached out and cupped my cheek.
My breath hitched.
My heart collapsed and expanded all at once.
His thumb brushed away a tear I hadn't realized was falling.
He whispered,
"You're crying because you're scared for me… right?"
His voice trembled.
"Just tell me the truth. Stop fighting alone. Stop shutting me out."
I squeezed my eyes shut, one more tear escaping.
And with a shaking voice, barely louder than a breath, I whispered:
"I don't want you to die because of me."
Jao pov
I watched the city from the rooftop, the cold air slicing across my face, but nothing could cool the heat boiling inside my chest.
Everyone said I was overreacting.
That Ajin's disappearance was "complicated."
That her lies had "reasons."
But none of them knew what she had done to me.
To all of us.
None of them knew how thoroughly she had played us.
I crushed the cigarette under my shoe and leaned forward against the metal railing, remembering the moment everything snapped.
It wasn't just that she lied.
It wasn't even that she hid a child.
It was that she used me.
She smiled at me.
She made me believe I mattered.
Made me believe she needed me to protect her.
And all the while, she had someone else's child growing inside her.
Someone else's secrets.
Someone else's future.
And I—Jao—was just a pawn keeping people away, covering her tracks, shutting down anyone who questioned her behavior.
I was her shield.
Her weapon.
Her idiot.
And when she didn't need me anymore?
She vanished.
No goodbye.
No truth.
Nothing.
Just a burnt-out phone line
and a thousand unanswered questions.
I wasn't even angry at first.
I was relieved she was alive.
Relieved she had somewhere safe to go.
Relieved she had escaped whatever danger she was hiding.
But then the truth came.
Piece
by
piece.
She had told everyone different versions of the story.
To him—Jun-seo—
she showed the ultrasound.
To me—
she swore she was alone, terrified, abandoned.
To the investors—
she claimed she was taking a mental health break.
To the press—
she fabricated an overseas job.
She had woven a web so tight and so perfect…
we never noticed we were walking straight into it.
I pulled out my phone.
The camera feed was still open.
Still watching him.
Jun-seo sitting in that damn studio, writing something with that calm sincerity that made everyone trust him.
A bitter laugh escaped my throat.
"He still doesn't know," I whispered.
"He still doesn't know what she did to me."
Everyone thought I hated him.
That I blamed him.
But that wasn't true.
I didn't hate him.
I hated that she chose him.
I hated that he still looked at her like she hung the stars.
I hated that he didn't know how deeply she could cut someone without lifting a finger.
He was innocent.
And she would ruin him too.
Just like she ruined the rest of us.
I tightened my grip around my phone.
"It's time she pays for it," I muttered.
Not by killing her.
No—that would be too easy for her.
Too clean.
Too merciful.
I didn't want her dead.
I wanted her truth exposed.
I wanted her to feel the humiliation of being stripped bare in front of the people she manipulated.
I wanted her to watch everything she built crumble under the weight of her own lies.
That was real revenge.
Not violence.
Not blood.
Exposure.
The truth she ran from.
The consequences she hid from.
The past she buried.
I would dig it all up.
She thought I loved her.
She thought that love made me weak.
She thought she could lie, disappear, and I would protect her anyway.
She forgot:
Love doesn't make me weak.
Love makes me dangerous.
I looked at the final message I had sent her.
"I'm coming soon, Ajin.
Let's see what truth does to you."
I pocketed my phone.
Smiled.
And stepped off the rooftop.
The hallway outside the café was quieter now, emptied of customers and noise, but Jao remained frozen in place, his back pressed against the wall, his fists trembling at his sides.
He had watched them—Ajin and Junseo—collide again like two stars destined to burn each other.
The sight gnawed at him.
Chewed him alive.
He used to think he was immune to her.
He used to believe the resentment he carried was armor.
But seeing her like that—bare-faced, tired, small but still carrying that dangerous spark—
…it made something twist sharply inside him.
"Damn you, Ajin," he muttered under his breath.
Not out of hatred.
Out of everything else he refused to name.
He remembered all too well how she had manipulated him when he was younger, when they were rookies, when he thought she understood him better than anyone.
He had followed her blindly.
She had used him like a pawn.
And when her world crashed?
She had cut him off, left him breathless with questions he never got to ask.
Everyone else had moved on.
Everyone else had forgiven or forgotten.
Not him.
Jao wasn't built to forget.
He shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to calm the rising heat in his chest.
"I shouldn't care," he whispered to himself.
"I shouldn't feel anything for her anymore."
But the truth—the terrible, humiliating truth—was that seeing her again made him realize something:
He had never stopped caring.
Even after the lies.
Even after the manipulation.
Even after she betrayed him.
He still wanted answers.
Closure.
Maybe even a chance to scream at her.
Or shake her.
Or ask her why se chose to destroy everything around her… including him.
And beneath all that anger was a secret he had carried alone:
When Ajin disappeared during her pregnancy years ago…
he was the first to find out she was expecting a child.
Not from her.
Not from Junseo.
But from the doctor she had threatened into silence.
He had kept it hidden, locked tight inside his chest.
He was the one who made sure no tabloids leaked the hospital visit.
He was the one who deleted the CCTV footage.
He had protected her even when he had every reason not to.
He didn't know why.
He didn't want to know why.
But now, seeing Junseo stand beside her…
Seeing the child who had his eyes…
Seeing how fate tied them together again…
It made him feel left behind by a story he once believed he belonged to.
Jao let out a dry laugh, sharp and painful.
"Look at you, Ajin," he whispered.
"Still ruining people's lives… and I'm still the idiot who can't look away."
He straightened up, brushing the bitterness from his expression.
He was done being a pawn.
Done being a ghost in the shadows of her story.
If Ajin and Junseo thought they could navigate their mess on their own…
They had forgotten one thing:
Jao had his own scars.
His own revenge
—
and still, despite everything…
his heart wasn't finished with her.