Vol. 1 Chapter 1.2

Of course. Still hiding, just like she knew he would be. She clenched her jaw tight at the sight of Yoonhyun Kim crouched uselessly in the shadows. The Kims. Good for nothing, all of them.

“Why the hell would you think this car belongs to you?”

Another man, middle-aged, swaggered over from the other side and got in her face. The rest of the group turned their attention to her now, men in fitted suits that screamed trouble.

Her shoulders tensed, instinctively shrinking under the pressure, but she made herself speak anyway.

“This car was stolen. If you open the trunk, there’s a tracker inside that proves it. I know you’ve swapped the license plate, but that’s illegal, and I think you know that.”

“Unbelievable,” the man grumbled in a rough voice, then flicked the cigarette from his mouth straight at Yoonha.

As it came flying toward her, she instinctively flinched, ducking her head. It hit her square in the shoulder, scattering glowing embers before falling to the ground. He probably threw it to piss her off more than hurt her, but it still made her skin crawl.

“So fucking what if it’s illegal? What are you, a cop? You from traffic enforcement or something?”

“I’m not trying to make this a thing. Just give the car back, and I’ll leave quietly.”

At her bold reply, the bulky man let out a short, amused laugh. But it was the other guy, watching from the side, who spoke next.

“Is this some form of blackmail? You just show up and demand the car like we owe you something? Who the hell are you?”

“However you got it, that’s between you and the seller. But the car’s registered to us, so we’re taking it back. Unless you’d rather we do this the legal way.”

That’s when it happened. A slow, dragging creak as the container door they were gathered around began to open.

Yoonha didn’t even glance at it. Whoever was inside wasn’t about to save her. Unless a clean-cut cop walked out with a badge and a warrant in hand, it didn’t matter.

“Legal way?”

“Yes. Driving around with a fake plate on a stolen car is a felony. If you’re not handing it over, we can call the cops right now and sort it that way.”

Honestly, losing the car to impound would be better than losing it forever. She’d rather deal with months of legal battles than let the thing disappear, break down, get chopped up and sold in parts across some port city. If that happened, the car would be gone, and all she’d be left with was the debt.

She made up her mind and reached for her phone.

One of the men moved fast, lifting his hand like he was about to slap her across the face.

“You fucking bitch. We tried to play nice.”

Yoonha saw it coming. Her body tensed as she squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the hit.

But just then, BANG.

The container door, still creaking open, suddenly slammed wide with a violent crash.

Startled, Yoonha’s eyes flew open. And she froze.

A man stepped out from the container. She stared at him, face drained of color, fear taking hold before she could even stop it.

The lights inside flicked on behind him as the door opened fully, flooding the area with harsh, clinical brightness.

His shadow stretched across the pavement as he walked toward them, each step deliberate, unhurried.

Yoonha blinked, heart hammering in her chest, and for some reason, her right palm began to burn.

“So that sharp little voice I heard was you.”

No wonder. Surrounded by nothing but thick-skulled brutes, there was no chance of a sound like that coming from any of them.

The man’s voice, low and threaded with amusement, draped heavily over the space like silk across marble. It was softer, smoother than Yoonha remembered. Dark and rich, the kind of voice that made your ears tingle just hearing it.

She just stood there, staring blankly as he walked toward her. And really, what else could she do?

It was a face she thought she’d only ever see again in her dreams. One she’d sworn she’d never cross paths with again. Why the hell is he coming out of there?

“Executive Director.”

The men around her all bowed at once, heads lowered in deference, and Yoonha, almost without realizing it, took a step back.

The man who’d threatened her before was bigger, by a lot, but this… this was different. This fear wasn’t about size. It was razor-sharp, bone-deep. He kept his eyes on her as he moved closer, unblinking.

He had sharply defined eyes, heavy-lidded with deep creases, but it wasn’t his eyes people watched. His expression always carried a kind of sleepy detachment, so you looked at his mouth instead. His eyes gave nothing away, but the corners of his lips? That’s where the truth slipped out.

Right now, those dry eyes were unreadable, but that subtle smile tugging at his lips made it clear he was amused.

Yoonha found herself momentarily forgetting why she was even here.
Her gaze studied his face. Every line, every shadow. From the bold slope of his nose to the clean angles of his jaw. The boyish beauty he’d once had had sharpened into something more striking, more adult, but none of it had been lost.

She remembered him so vividly. Yunseok Jeong, the boy with a box cutter in his hand.

She clenched her right fist, trying to ignore the phantom sting that still lingered in her palm. Yunseok’s gaze dropped, fixed now on that small, trembling fist of hers.

Dressed in a black shirt with the top buttons undone and dark navy slacks, Yunseok stepped in close, the deep breath he took before stopping in front of her sounding almost like a sigh.

He was too close. Close enough that it was hard to breathe, but Yoonha didn’t move. Not this time. Backing away now might only provoke him.

And provoking Yunseok Jeong? That was asking for trouble.

Like prey before a predator, she stayed perfectly still, eyes carefully watching every little move. She didn’t run. She didn’t speak. She simply waited, calm, quiet, and obedient.

With one hand tucked casually into his pocket, Yunseok exhaled the breath he’d been holding, letting out a long, languid sigh.

Yoonha had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze, as he was easily a head taller than her.

And then—

“Hello, Yoonha.”

His eyes swept over her, as if taking stock of who she’d become, before greeting her in a level, unbothered tone.