~[Chapter 8] Halt Line~
The air between them stilled.
Moon's expression shifted, surprise flickering across his features before smoothing into that familiar calm.
"Sir,"
Moon said evenly, slipping his phone into his pocket.
"You're up late."
Alex stepped out from behind the tree, still catching his breath from the run. His heart was pounding, though he wasn't sure if it was from the exercise or from stumbling upon Moon like this.
"Couldn't sleep,"
Alex said, studying Moon's face.
"What are you doing out here?"
"Just taking a call."
Moon replied. His voice casual. Too casual.
"Personal matter."
Alex glanced at the phone now hidden in Moon's pocket, then back at his face.
"At this hour?"
"Friend in a different time zone."
Moon offered a small smile.
"Sorry if I disturbed you."
There was something in the way Moon held himself, not quite defensive, but guarded. Like he was waiting to see how much Alex had heard.
Truth was, Alex hadn't heard much. Just fragments. Something about moving into the residence. Something about observing. But the words had been muffled by distance and the sound of his own footsteps.
Still, the secrecy of it bothered him.
"You've been out here a while,"
Alex said, taking a few steps closer.
Moon shrugged.
"Couldn't sleep either. The new room is... different. Just needed some air."
It was a reasonable explanation. Alex wanted to push, to ask more questions, but what exactly would he ask? Why were you on the phone? Who were you talking to?
He had no real grounds for suspicion. Just a gut feeling that something wasn't quite right.
"Right,"
Alex said finally.
"Well, don't stay out too long. We have an early start tomorrow."
"Of course, sir."
Moon bowed his head slightly.
"I was just heading back in."
They walked back to the mansion together, the silence between them heavy but not hostile. Moon kept a respectful distance, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable in the dim light.
When they reached the entrance, Moon paused.
"Good night, sir."
Alex didn't reply, he just stood there watching as Moon disappeared down the hallway toward the east wing.
Something was off. He couldn't put his finger on it, but Moon was hiding something. The late-night call, the careful way he chose his words, the way he'd looked almost startled when Alex appeared.
But maybe Alex was overthinking it. Maybe Moon really was just talking to a friend. Maybe the stress of the past few days was making him paranoid.
Alex shook his head and headed to his room.
He needed sleep. Real sleep. Tomorrow would be another long day, and he couldn't afford to be distracted by vague suspicions about his assistant.
But as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the thoughts kept circling back.
The next morning arrived with grey skies and the threat of rain.
Alex woke earlier than usual, his mind already spinning through the day's schedule. Board meeting. Financial
report. And Moon.
He found Moon already waiting in the dining room, dressed impeccably in a dark blue suit, tablet in hand. A cup of coffee sat steaming on the table in front of him.
"Good morning, sir,"
Moon said, standing as Alex entered.
"Your coffee is ready. Black, no sugar."
Alex nodded, taking his seat.
"What's on the schedule?"
Moon pulled up the tablet.
"Board meeting at nine-thirty. You have a briefing with the legal team at eleven about the incident. Lunch is blocked off for the investor meeting we rescheduled. Then at three, you're meeting with the head of R&D about the new drug trials."
"Cancel the R&D meeting. Push it to next week."
"Yes, sir."
Moon made the adjustment. "Anything else?"
Alex sipped his coffee, watching Moon over the rim of the cup. Moon looked perfectly composed. Professional. Like last night had never happened.
"The report on Park Ji-hoon,"
Alex said.
"How's that coming along?"
"I've started gathering the personnel files. IT gave me access this morning. I should have a preliminary report by end of day."
"Good. I want everything—his projects, his colleagues, anyone he reported conflicts with. If there's anything unusual, I want to know."
Moon nodded slowly, making notes.
"I'll prioritize his recent communications and meeting logs."
"Do that."
The rest of breakfast was quiet.
Not awkward, just heavy.
Alex sat at the head of the table, coffee untouched, scrolling through messages on his phone. Moon stood nearby, tablet in hand, reading off reminders with the same calm precision he always carried.
Moon gave updates on the security improvements, confirmed all the days arrangements, and reminded Alex about an upcoming charity gala that his father expected him to attend.
Everything perfectly normal. Perfectly professional.
And yet Alex couldn't shake the feeling that Moon was performing. That behind the attentive assistant routine, there was something else going on.
__________
The day at the office moved in waves of controlled chaos.
The board meeting ran long, stretching past eleven with heated discussions about security protocols and public relations strategies. Alex fielded questions with practiced patience, his mind half on the conversation and half on the report Moon was compiling.
The legal briefing was tedious, contractual concerns, liability issues, insurance claims. Alex signed where he needed to sign, approved what needed approving.
Lunch with the rescheduled investors went smoothly. They were concerned about the protests and allegations, naturally, but Alex reassured them with facts and figures, projections and contingency plans. By the time dessert arrived, they seemed satisfied.
It was Friday, which meant the office had a different energy. People moved a little faster, eager for the weekend. Alex could feel it too—the anticipation of two days without board meetings and shareholder concerns.
Moon was efficient throughout, appearing when needed with documents or reminders, fading into the background when Alex needed space to think. By late afternoon, he appeared at Alex's office door with a file folder.
"Sir, the preliminary report on Park Ji-,"
Moon said, setting it on Alex's desk.
Alex's eyes immediately fixed on the folder. He pulled it toward him, fingers already moving to open it.
"You can leave,"
Alex said without looking up. "I'll call you when I need something again."
Moon paused.
"Yes, sir."
He bowed slightly and headed for the door.
Alex didn't acknowledge his departure. He was already flipping open the file, eyes scanning the first page.
Personnel records. Project assignments. Meeting logs. Communication summaries.
His jaw tightened as he read further. Park Ji-hoon had access to several high-level research projects. His last communication was an email to a colleague three days before he disappeared—asking about discrepancies in trial data.
Alex's fingers gripped the edge of the paper.
What kind of discrepancies?
He read on. The email wasn't specific. Just mentioned wanting to discuss it in person. There was no record of that meeting ever happening.
The colleague claimed Park never showed up. Said it wasn't unusual—Park was known for being forgetful.
Or someone made sure he didn't make that meeting.
Alex leaned back in his chair, staring at the pages spread across his desk.
This wasn't just a disappearance. This was something bigger.
And it was happening right under his nose. By the time the office closed, Alex's nerves were wound tight.
_________
The estate was quiet when they returned.
Security lights glowed softly along the paths. The air was cool, carrying the promise of night.
When they entered the mansion, Alex loosened his tie, feeling the tension of the day settle into his shoulders. He needed to move. To burn off the restless energy that had been building all week.
"Moon,"
he called out as Moon started toward the east wing.
Moon turned.
"Yes, sir?"
"Change into something comfortable. Meet me in the gym in fifteen minutes."
Moon blinked.
"Sir?"
"Help me work out. I need to clear my head."
Moon hesitated, then nodded.
"Alright sir, be out in fifteen minutes."
The private gym was on the lower level of the mansion, a wide space with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the gardens. Equipment lined the walls, weights, machines, a boxing ring in the corner with padded mats.
Alex was already there when Moon arrived, dressed in a fitted black tank top and training pants. He was wrapping his hands, testing the tension of the fabric. Moon appeared in the doorway wearing a simple black top and grey sweat-pants. He looked normal but there was something else.
Alex noticed.
Immediately he spotted moon, his breath caught slightly, moons hair was wet, messy, soft curls framing his forehead. He had a sort of build that his suits covered. Alex swallowed hard, and tried to control whatever it is he was feeling at that moment.
"Let's spar," Alex said, tossing a pair of hand wraps to moon.
Moon shook his head. "I'd rather not, sir."
"Why?, You handled yourself well enough during the attack," Alex replied. "Let's see what you've got."
Alex stepped onto the mat.
"Or are you Afraid you'll hurt me?"
"I'm afraid I'll forget my place, sir."
The honesty of it caught Alex off guard. He smirked.
"I'll take my chances. Now get over
"Sir, please—"
"It's an order."
Moon sighed in defeat and stepped onto the mat, raising his guard.
They circled each other, testing distance. Alex threw the first jab, light, exploratory. Moon slipped it easily, barely moving.
Alex tried again, a combination this time. Moon parried, his movements fluid like water redirecting around stone.
"Stop holding back," Alex said.
"Sir—"
"That's an order."
Moon stepped back slightly. The careful deference dropped away, replaced by focus. Sharp. Intent.
Then he moved.
It was like watching waves crash against a cliff—relentless, powerful, impossible to predict. He came in low, sweeping toward Alex's legs. Alex jumped back, barely avoiding the strike, and countered with a hook. Moon ducked under it, his body twisting with practiced grace, coming up inside Alex's guard.
Too close.
Alex could feel the heat radiating off Moon's skin, smell the faint scent of his cologne mixed with sweats. Their eyes met for a split second, Moon's pupils dilated, breathing controlled but elevated.
Alex shoved him back, creating distance.
They circled again.
Alex's heart was pounding, but not from the exercise. There was something electric in the air, something dangerous about the way they moved around each other, predatory and intimate all at once.
Moon attacked again, faster this time. A feint to the left, then a real strike from the right. Alex blocked it but felt the impact shudder through his forearm. Moon was strong. Stronger than he looked.
Alex retaliated, going on the offensive. A jab, a cross, a low kick. Moon blocked the first two but the kick connected with his thigh. Moon grunted, stumbled slightly, then recovered with frightening speed.
He swept in close again, catching Alex's wrist mid-punch and twisting. Alex felt himself being guided into a lock, Moon's body pressed against his back, breath hot against his ear.
"Yield?"
Moon's voice was low, rough.
Alex's pulse skyrocketed. The position was compromising, Moon's arm around his torso, their bodies flush, Moon's grip firm but not painful.
Every nerve in Alex's body was firing at once.
"No,"
Alex growled, and threw his weight backward.
They went down together, hitting the mat in a tangle of limbs. Alex twisted, trying to get leverage, but Moon moved with him, anticipating every shift. They rolled, grappling for control.
Moon ended up on top, knees bracketing Alex's hips, hands pinning Alex's wrists to the mat above his head.
They froze.
Both breathing hard. Faces inches apart.
Time slowed.
Moon's hair had fallen forward, damp with sweat, framing his flushed face. His eyes were dark, intense, locked on Alex's. Alex could feel every point where their bodies touched, Moon's thighs against his sides, his chest rising and falling against Alex's, the pressure of his hands on Alex's wrists.
Moon's lips parted slightly, like he was about to say something.
Alex's gaze dropped to his mouth.
Then—
Moon released him suddenly, scrambling backward like he'd been burned.
"I'm sorry,"
Moon said quickly, standing.
"I—that was—."
Alex sat up, his mind spinning, heart pounding in his ears.
"It's fine."
"I shouldn't have—"
"I said it's fine."
Alex's voice came out sharper than intended.
They stood on opposite sides of the mat, staring at each other.
The air felt thick. Charged.
Alex exhaled slowly. He took off his hand wraps, glanced at moon one last time, then turned and left the gym without another word.
Alex barely made it to his room before locking the door behind him.
He leaned against it, chest heaving, heart racing for reasons that had nothing to do with exertion.
"What the hell was that..?"
He dragged a hand through his hair, trying to steady his breathing. Control. He needed control.
But his body still hummed with the memory of everything. Moon's weight on top of him, the heat of his breath, the pressure of his hands pinning Alex's wrists. The way Moon's eyes had darkened, pupils blown wide, lips parted. He was feeling something weird, and he didn't like it.
Alex pushed off the door and headed straight for the bathroom, turning the shower to cold.
He needed to clear his head.
To calm his nerves, to wash away whatever it is that was wrong with him.
Back in the gym, Moon stood alone in the empty space, hands braced on his knees, head lowered.
His breathing was just as unsteady.
He straightened slowly, running both hands through his damp hair, trying to collect himself.
Professionalism, Distance. he reminded himself.
But as he turned to leave, he caught his reflection in the mirrored wall—flushed, disheveled, eyes still dark with something he didn't recognize.
He looked away quickly and headed for the door.
He needed a cold shower. And he needs to start his mission. Fast. Fully.