Chapter Text
The chandelier gleamed above them, casting trembling gold across the room. The clan leader sat reclined upon his chair before the fire, flanked by two bodyguards standing as still as statues.
Suho was accustomed to this. His father never agreed to meet anyone alone, not even members of his own blood.
"I gave you six years to live however you pleased," his father murmured, his voice carrying that same reverent calm it always did.
Slowly, the older man rose to his feet. Suho barely shifted from where he stood a few paces away, his hands folded behind his back.
He knew where this was heading. Yet somewhere deep within himself, he had foolishly hoped things would not turn so quickly.
"Your elder brother was killed last month because of his own mistake. You know that."
He was speaking of Baekjin.
Suho clenched his jaw tighter, not giving so much as a nod or a single word in response.
Ever since receiving his father's call, he had known the news would not be good.
The problem was that his father moved through the shadows. How did it happen?
He would rather not investigate. The two brothers had never been close regardless. They had been raised apart — Baekjin with their mother in Italy, Suho with their father in Korea.
"I have decided you will assume his position."
This time, Suho finally looked at him, his brow tightening faintly as his hands curled into fists.
"I allowed you to finish your degree and marry. It is time for you to take over the business," the man declared, leaving no room for contradiction.
"I am comfortable with my current position," Suho dared to answer, suddenly feeling the collar of his shirt constrict around his throat.
His father laughed softly and stepped closer.
"An administrative position?" he mocked. "That is work for newcomers, not an Ahn."
Of course, whatever his father said had to be obeyed. The man held the power to destroy everything Suho had built with patience and devotion.
"You are my son. I trained you for this since you were six years old," his father stated firmly, placing a heavy hand upon his shoulder. "You are just as capable as Baekjin."
Suho let out a bitter laugh. "You know very well that I am not."
"You will have time to adapt to the business. I trust you will," his father replied, tightening his grip slightly.
That was the truth of it. It was not merely a business.
It was a mafia network controlling maritime smuggling between Korea, Japan, and parts of Italy.
To the public eye, the family owned companies and enterprises tied to port storage facilities.
Unofficially, they transported military weapons, forged documents, and people who were never seen again.
Suho's duties had always been simple. He handled counterfeit documentation and managed schedules and shipping arrivals from behind a desk.
He had warned them of suspicious movements before executions and had even cleaned bloody crime scenes, yet he had never directly taken part in the flesh and brutality of the trade itself.
"Is this because of your husband?"
The word froze Suho where he stood. It dragged him from his thoughts as he lifted his gaze toward his father.
"What about him?" His voice turned dangerously low, stripped raw at the edges.
His father released his shoulder and smiled.
"You only make that expression when I mention him. Interesting," the older man remarked, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it. "Does he still believe you only work in international trade?"
Suho remained silent, and that silence was answer enough.
“Ha! Then he seriously has no fucking clue.” To his father, that sounded way too convenient. “Your boring-ass lawyer husband has no idea he married the son of a mafia boss.”
Suho exhaled sharply, irritation clawing beneath his skin. Fuck.
He wanted nothing more than to shut him up with a punch to the mouth. But he restrained himself.
After all, his father was right. The man had allowed him to finish university, marry, and live peacefully beside his husband. He had no right to become difficult now.
"Listen carefully. This stays between us," Suho warned, extending his hand.
His father smiled around the cigarette resting between his lips and offered one from the pack to Suho.
“Good. At least you know what’s best for you.”
As Suho pulled a lighter from his pocket, he spoke again, his voice carrying far more determination this time.
“Sieun can’t find out. I’m not dragging him into this.”
The mere thought of it was catastrophic. Suho did not even wish to imagine it.
"That will depend on how well you perform."
Someone interrupted them then, stepping into the room. It was Seongje, his father's chief assistant.
He was a capable man, nearly the same age as Suho, loyal in ways few people ever were. He always looked as though nothing in the world mattered except keeping Suho's father alive.
And when he lost control, he became a fucking disaster. Suho had experienced that firsthand. Until then, however, Seongje remained deceptively relaxed.
"You have a meeting in ten minutes, sir," Seongje informed his father.
The older man nodded before giving his only son a slight incline of his head.
"You start tomorrow."
Suho merely inhaled slowly from the cigarette, utterly unprepared in every sense, yet left with no other choice.
Dinner was ready. Sieun had put genuine effort into it with the help of their housekeeper. Truthfully, he had grown comfortable having her around in a house far too large for only two people.
He was convinced the food had turned out well.
A case investigation had consumed nearly his entire afternoon, and when he returned home on a Friday evening, he knew he needed to retreat to the only thing that still made him feel alive.
Suho.
He only read his message after arriving home, greeted at the door by the already big golden retriever they were raising together, Toby.
Once he slipped off his shoes, set down his briefcase, and allowed Toby to finish sniffing at his clothes, he finally looked at his phone.
I'll be home late
Movie night? ;)
Sieun smiled softly. Then he decided he would cook for him, even if he was far from talented in the kitchen.
He had always devoted himself to studying until exhaustion, and now he worked himself to the bone in the very same way. He had never truly found the time to learn anything beyond preparing basic meals to survive.
But Suho never judged him for it. He was patient with him, endlessly patient. And because of that, Sieun felt he owed him this much.
Trying something new once in a while would not kill him. Especially if it meant making his husband happy.
When Toby began wagging his tail with far more excitement than usual, Sieun knew Suho had arrived.
“You can head home now, Haneol,” Sieun told the woman with a gentle smile. “I am sorry for making you stay so late. I promise I will pay you extra.”
The woman smiled warmly. “It was my pleasure to help you. Do you need anything else?”
“I will manage from here,” Sieun assured her softly.
“Then have a lovely weekend.”
“You too.”
And just like that, she disappeared from the kitchen, leaving him alone.
Well, the table was already set, everything placed exactly where it belonged. Sieun wore his favourite dark green pyjamas, his hair still damp from his bath, though that hardly mattered now.
The roasted meat, stuffed with spices and tiny vegetables hidden beneath melted cheese, rested inside the oven before him. Around it, golden potatoes had been sliced into delicate rounds, crisped beautifully and fragrant enough to fill the entire kitchen.
The moment Suho crossed the entrance hall, Sieun heard him climbing the spiral staircase, heading straight towards their bedroom. No doubt he had gone upstairs looking for him first.
“Sieun-ie?” Suho called out loudly, his footsteps drawing closer.
By the time Suho stepped into the kitchen, Sieun had already wrapped his arms around his neck, lifting himself onto the tips of his toes just to hold him properly.
His husband’s arms circled his waist instinctively, as they had done countless times before. Sieun felt the warmth of his breath against his hair, followed by the soft press of a kiss upon the crown of his head.
“Did you miss me?” Suho asked, his voice smooth and velvety.
Sieun pulled back only slightly, his eyes curving into bright crescent moons as he looked at him.
“Not at all.”
That earned a laugh from the taller man. He was still dressed in his work clothes, shirt slightly creased, dark trousers fitted neatly against his frame. Deep down, Sieun had to admit Suho looked even more handsome ever since he had decided to let his hair grow longer. Those unruly waves falling across his forehead gave him an almost unfairly adorable appearance.
But Suho had always looked adorable to Sieun.
“I made dinner.”
Suho’s brows lifted immediately with interest.
“You did?”
Sieun tried to pull away, though Suho’s arms refused to let him go.
“With a little help,” he admitted quietly.
Then he gave a small squeeze to the hand resting at his waist, right where Suho’s wedding band brushed against the fabric.
“Help me serve the food,” Sieun asked.
Suho nodded, though he still had no intention of releasing him. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a slow kiss to the corner of Sieun’s mouth. Sieun pushed weakly against his chest, smiling despite himself.
“I mean it.”
“All right, sir,” Suho replied with a grin, finally letting him go.
Sieun had every intention of opening the oven and pulling out the tray with nothing but a cloth, yet Suho hurried to stop him.
“You could burn yourself,” he said, slipping on the thermal gloves resting beside the kitchen utensils.
“It has been off for a while,” Sieun informed him, merely opening the oven door while Suho carefully lifted the tray out.
The scent of warm homemade food flooded the kitchen at once, filling Sieun’s chest with quiet pride. It looked crisp, rich, and impossibly delicious.
Suho carried the tray towards the adjoining room where the main dining area was located, setting it down upon the table. The second he did, a giant ball of fur threw itself against his legs.
“Oh, we forgot to feed you, buddy” Suho murmured with a smile, pulling off the gloves to rub their canine son affectionately between the ears.
Sieun appeared in the dining room holding Toby’s bowl, giving it a light shake to catch his attention. Toby immediately abandoned Suho to hurry after him, eager for his dinner.
By the time Sieun returned, Suho was already finishing serving the food onto their plates.
“All right, everything’s ready.”
Sieun placed a chilled bottle of white wine onto the table alongside their glasses and poured for them both. It was a habit between them, helping one another without obligation, without expectation—only affection.
Though, if he were being honest, Suho was usually the one who cooked and made most things easier for him. Still, Sieun was far from useless.
Once they were seated, Sieun at the head of the table and Suho beside him, the lawyer lifted his glass slightly.
“A toast.”
Suho raised his own glass in return, tilting his head with quiet curiosity.
“A toast for what?”
“Today marks two years at your job. That is a huge accomplishment.”
“Oh, right,” Suho replied simply, clinking their glasses together, the crystal ringing softly between them.
“Did your coworkers congratulate you?”
Suho merely nodded, dismissing the subject with practiced ease before taking a sip of wine. Sweetness spread smoothly across his tongue.
“It tastes good,” he commented, running his tongue lightly over his lips before beginning to cut into the meat. It was so tender it practically fell apart beneath his fork alone, rich and mouthwatering.
Sieun drank more of his wine, resting his elbow against the table as he watched him quietly.
“Do they know you are married?”
Of course, his fake occupation as a supposed import and export analyst came with plenty of “coworkers.” They all got along wonderfully, and naturally they had congratulated him.
At least, that was how it sounded in his mind.
Only none of it was real.
His “coworkers” were nothing more than two of his father’s employees assigned to ensure he handled his work correctly. At most, he had a subordinate who coordinated extensive paperwork with him, but that was all.
And no, nobody knew he lived a double life, much less that he had a husband waiting for him at home.
Suho cleared his throat softly, his relaxed mask never once slipping.
“Why? Are you worried someone might flirt with me?”
Sieun merely shrugged and returned to his food, taking a bite of the potatoes. They were pleasantly sweet and not overly salty at all. He nodded faintly to himself in approval.
“I suppose seeing the ring on your hand should be enough,” he said casually, without digging any deeper into the matter.
“And what about you?” Suho asked in return. “Has anyone been flirting with you?”
“To be honest, yes,” Sieun admitted with a smile, never once lifting his gaze from his plate.
That was enough to make Suho choke on a piece of potato, quickly reaching for his wine to force it down. Sieun’s laughter filled the dining room at once.
“Do not joke about things like that,” Suho warned, recovering his composure.
“I am not joking,” Sieun replied innocently, bringing another piece of meat to his lips.
Suho’s tone darkened instantly.
“Who?”
“Come on. You know nobody actually wants to talk to me,” Sieun said lightly.
It would have been a problem before. But Sieun had long since stopped caring.
He had a reputation for being cold. And he only ever spoke when he was defending a client.
He was good at his job, and that alone was enough.
Suho relaxed back into his seat after that. Sieun truly did carry the reputation of being an ice princess among his colleagues. No one could approach him easily.
That was something only Suho had ever managed to do.
“If someone does,” Suho said quietly, “just tell me.”
He could make them disappear with the snap of his fingers.
Sieun smiled again, his cheeks quickly flushing pink from his second glass of wine.
“All right,” he murmured softly. “I will.”
Later that evening, Suho took care of leaving everything spotless, loading the dishwasher and straightening the kitchen before taking a quick shower so he could join his beloved on the sofa downstairs.
The two of them sat there in matching pajamas, watching a mystery film—one of those mock documentaries designed to blur the line between fiction and reality. It was not exactly the kind of movie capable of fully entertaining Suho, though he knew Sieun loved them.
His adorable husband had both legs draped across Suho’s lap, a bowl of popcorn resting against his stomach while Suho lazily stroked his hair, elbow propped against the back of the sofa.
Then, after nearly an hour, Suho noticed Sieun’s eyelashes beginning to flutter, the younger man struggling to keep himself awake.
He looked unbearably lovely like that.
When Sieun’s head tipped forward for the second time, Suho effortlessly lifted him and settled him properly onto his lap, his cheek naturally finding its place against Suho’s chest.
“Did you have an exhausting day?” Suho asked softly, slipping one hand beneath the satin fabric of his shirt to trace slow circles against the small of his back.
Sieun only curled smaller against him, clutching weakly at his clothes before rubbing his cheek affectionately against his chest.
“Very exhausting,” he admitted quietly.
“That is because you are the best at your law firm,” Suho praised gently, noticing the way Sieun relaxed further in his arms.
“That is a bit of an exaggeration.”
“To me, you will always be the best.”
Sieun let out a muffled huff against his chest. He was not the type of person who openly spoke overly sweet words, and he always made a face whenever Suho did, but deep down, he adored every second of it.
When Suho noticed the faint tilt of his husband's head, he gently helped him settle more comfortably in his lap.
Sieun’s legs rested on either side of his hips as he brushed his nose softly against Suho’s own. His eyes were unfocused, clouded by exhaustion and the lingering haze of alcohol.
A quiet smile curved Suho’s lips at the sight. His beloved Sieun had forced himself to stay awake simply because he wished to spend a little more time with him.
“Thank you for dinner tonight,” he whispered against his lips, the words shared like a secret meant for no one else.
Sieun merely leaned closer and captured his mouth in a tender kiss, little more than the brush of soft lips at first. But the moment he felt Suho’s hands tighten around his thighs, the kiss deepened with slow-burning intensity.
Suho tilted his head back slightly, a low sound of approval escaping him when the smaller man slid both hands along his neck, drawing him nearer.
It felt right. An intimacy reserved solely for the two of them. Sieun had been Suho’s first and only love throughout his entire life, and there was nothing in this world that could ever make him let go.
The lingering taste of wine and caramel popcorn melted together on Suho’s tongue as he savored the warmth of Sieun’s mouth. His hands continued their unhurried caresses along his thighs, drifting up toward his hips before slowly returning downward again, taking their time.
He knew Sieun had endured difficult days at work, burdened by a complicated case involving a defendant that had exhausted him mentally and emotionally. And so, taking the time to help him forget all of it—even for a little while—made Suho feel useful in a way nothing else could.
“Take me to bed,” Sieun murmured lazily, his heavy breath fanning over Suho’s lips.
Suho smiled and lifted him effortlessly into his arms, rising to his feet only after switching off the television.
Sieun clung weakly to him. The truth was, he could barely keep his eyes open anymore. His bare feet swayed faintly in the air with every step Suho took up the stairs.
When they reached their bedroom, Suho pushed the door shut with his foot and carefully laid his husband down upon the bed. Sieun’s back sank into the softness of the mattress.
Suho intended to tuck him beneath the covers, but Sieun lazily slid a hand toward the edge of his trousers, his fingers brushing against his underwear.
“You’re far too tired, sweetheart,” Suho murmured softly, catching his hand and pulling it away before tucking him back under the blankets properly.
“Hm…” Sieun complained in a sleepy voice, mumbling something else Suho failed to understand.
Suho only kissed him warmly one last time.
“Tomorrow, angel.”
Then he laid down beside him, allowing his husband the peaceful rest he so desperately needed.
The following morning, Sieun woke up buried beneath layers of blankets. The air had already begun to turn warm with summer drawing near, so he pushed himself up, deciding to change into something lighter.
He disappeared into the bathroom connected to their bedroom and chose comfortable clothes instead—an oversized shirt his husband had practically surrendered to him after hearing countless times how soft and comforting Sieun found it, along with a pair of plaid trousers.
Several minutes later, he realized Suho had never returned to bed. Most likely, he had already been awake for quite some time.
As Sieun descended the staircase, he was met halfway by Suho himself, who stopped the moment he saw him and smiled openly.
"Morning, love." He lifted a hand in an enthusiastic wave. "I made breakfast."
Sieun merely followed him, his attention drifting toward the large glass windows where their dog was happily running through the backyard.
Toby had a spacious bed inside the house, but he adored the garden far more—the fresh grass, the flowerbeds Sieun had painstakingly cared for every morning. Suho had even built small fences around them just to keep Toby from trampling the flowers whenever he got too excited.
"Why are you awake so early?" Sieun asked quietly, not sitting down right away, only wrapping his hands around a cup of hot coffee.
He pulled the curtains open with the mug still in hand. From his seat, Suho simply watched him in silence. He knew Sieun needed his mornings to follow a precise rhythm if he was going to stay in a good mood throughout the day.
"I have to go to work," Suho said, glancing down at his phone.
Sieun turned sharply.
"But it's saturday."
Suho needed an excuse. He had forgotten about that detail.
"One of my coworkers screwed up some important paperwork, so I'm covering for him," he replied smoothly, calm and composed, never allowing his tongue to falter. "He's got a baby, and it's hard for him to leave out of nowhere, y'know?"
"It's unfair that you have to deal with his mistake," Sieun sighed, finally taking the seat beside him, his lips faintly pursed.
Which meant they would not have any real time together today.
And somehow, that saddened him more than he wanted to admit.
Suho must have noticed the subtle shift in his posture, because he reached across the table and gave Sieun’s hand a gentle squeeze.
"I need to take care of this, and I'll be back early, alright?"
Sieun turned his hand beneath his, threading their fingers together before giving a slow nod.
"Alright," he accepted quietly, because there was little else he could do. "Remember that we still need to organize some things for the trip."
Oh, right. The trip to Thailand.
Fuck.
Sieun had been planning it for months—a private getaway to beautiful tropical beaches, just the two of them. He had even asked their housekeeper to stay behind and look after Toby while they were gone.
It was only fifteen days away, and truthfully, Suho was no longer certain he should go at all. Would he even be able to manage his father's business affairs from that far away?
"Suho-ya?"
The worried sound of his husband's voice pulled him abruptly from his thoughts.
"Yeah?" he answered far too quickly. "Sorry. Yeah, of course. I'll remember."
He took a bite of toast spread with jam just as his phone began to ring.
"I should get going."
Sieun nodded, though not before quietly checking whether Suho had eaten enough of his breakfast. He always noticed those things. Always made sure Suho was taking care of himself properly.
Not that Suho had ever struggled with that.
He had always maintained an impressive physique—tall, broad-shouldered, muscular in that distinctly athletic way. From the little Suho had shared about his martial arts training, Sieun knew he could fight frighteningly well, too.
He took far better care of himself than Sieun did.
Sieun, meanwhile, forced himself to run three times a week at most despite hating every second of it, using it only as a way to burn away frustration from work and the family issues he no longer spoke to Suho about.
Because Suho already knew.
He knew everything about Sieun—every habit, every fear, every tiny detail.
And Sieun had simply grown tired of repeating the same problems involving his parents over and over again, so eventually, he had let the subject die on its own.
His husband leaned down and pressed a quick kiss against his lips before leaving, disappearing from his line of sight moments later.
"Have a good day," Sieun called after him.
Suho merely responded with a low sound in the back of his throat, waving a hand absently—though Sieun never saw it.
The truth was, Suho did not know everything.
He knew Sieun had been having difficult days at work, yes, but he did not know the full extent of what those days truly involved.
Sieun worked at one of the most prestigious law firms in the country, a position he had earned after graduating with one of the highest academic records in his university. His professors themselves had recommended him.
The cases had grown increasingly complicated, and he had understood that from the very first day.
Multimillion-dollar corporate and financial disputes, criminal defense for public figures, organized crime and illicit networks, inheritance battles between powerful families — matters far beyond anything ordinary.
This case was no different.
Sieun took his time enjoying breakfast before making his way toward the small study tucked beside the living room, farther back past the hallway.
It was a quiet little space he kept for working in peace, or simply unwinding alone.
Taking his second cup of coffee with him, he sat down and began reviewing the documents once more.
His most recent case involved the defense of a moneylender accused of usury.
His supervisor had assigned him to represent a man arrested for illegal lending and minor threats.
At first, the case had seemed straightforward: violent debt collection, stacks of cash, desperate clients buried in debt.
Until it no longer was.
While reviewing the files, Sieun noticed strange money transfers, repeated names, people who did not even appear to exist.
This was far bigger than anyone had initially believed. He had informed his superior immediately, warning him the case could escalate into something far more dangerous.
“You’ll handle it alongside two more experienced attorneys. You’ve won every previous case, and I trust your judgment,” his boss had told him. “But remember — your job isn’t to win. Just secure the lightest sentence possible.”
And Sieun understood.
There was no possible way to declare his client innocent. There were even rumors that the man had murdered people over unpaid debts. Sieun had only met him twice inside the prison, and the man had not seemed friendly in the slightest.
But then again, Sieun had grown accustomed to people like that over time.
With his glasses resting low against the bridge of his nose and piles of paperwork spread across the desk, his phone suddenly vibrated after several minutes.
His boss.
He answered immediately, without hesitation.
The older man did not even allow him time to greet him, getting straight to the point.
“We found someone working for the lenders. He’s willing to give us information for a substantial amount of money, so we can’t screw this up.”
He continued.
“He said the only way he’ll meet is at one of the places where the leaders of those gangs occasionally conduct business,” he explained, the sound of liquid being poured faintly audible from the other side of the call. “It’s the only day of the week where the workers aren’t watched as closely.”
“And how exactly is he giving us the information?” Sieun asked, leaning back in his chair.
“He says he has everything on a flash drive. He can’t send anything through another method because all his phones are monitored.”
Sieun rose from the chair and stepped out of the study, crossing toward the patio to slide open the glass door. His dog immediately understood he was being allowed inside and happily trotted toward him.
His paws were covered in moss, but Toby looked far too pleased with himself for Sieun to scold him. So he let him in anyway.
“He contacted us through a public phone,” his boss added. “Just some kid forced to work there because of loan debts.”
“Alright. When do we leave?” Sieun asked without wasting another second.
That was one of the things his superior appreciated most about him. Sieun was not someone who hesitated or circled around issues unnecessarily.
“You need to be there in about an hour. I’ll have Humin pick you up. Don’t worry — the police are already aware of the situation. If anything unusual happens, they’ll know.”
The police. Of course.
The police knew about everything. They simply refused to act unless absolutely necessary, because high-ranking commissioners were already receiving money from organized crime leaders.
It was hardly a secret.
Sieun doubted they would truly help him if things turned ugly. At best, they would step in to pull him out without disturbing the other men conducting business inside those meetings.
“I’ll be ready in an hour,” Sieun assured him.
His boss hung up.
Sieun carefully cleaned Toby’s muddy paws with damp cloths, brushing excess dirt from his fur while the dog repeatedly licked at his face whenever he had the chance, stealing reluctant laughter and soft complaints from him.
After leaving food and water in his bowls, Sieun went to get dressed. He slipped into one of his slim-fit suits.
Once he retrieved the flash drive, he would need to head straight to the firm to hand it over to his superior and begin working on whatever they uncovered, so dressing professionally had become second nature.
He finished getting ready in less than twenty minutes and felt his phone vibrate against his trousers. After saying goodbye to Toby near the entrance while slipping on his shoes, he stepped outside.
Thankfully, Suho was not home that day.
Otherwise, Sieun would have been forced to explain everything to him, and he was nowhere near prepared for such a conversation.
Outside, Humin greeted him from inside the company car they often used for work, waving at him energetically as always.
Unlike Sieun, who had attended one of the country’s elite universities for the wealthy, Humin came from an ordinary middle-class family.
Still, the younger man was hardworking and remarkably intelligent — something that often surprised Sieun because of his carefree personality. Somehow, the two of them had ended up working together, and Sieun had never been someone to judge others based on money.
Only responsibility and sincerity mattered to him.
And Humin was both a good employee and a good partner.
"Hey, Sieun-ssi," Humin greeted once he climbed into the car. "Bad day to be working, huh? Your husband must be upset you're leaving."
Sieun merely fastened his seatbelt.
"If it means securing success in the case, then I have to go."
Humin started the engine again, that same enthusiastic smile still resting easily across his face. The shirt suited him well; he rarely wore full suits outside the office.
Sieun knew that because Humin always shrugged off his blazer whenever he was inside his private office or when the employees went out for lunch together.
"Ah, Sieun-ssi. You're truly devoted to your work," Humin remarked, earning an incredulous exhale from him.
"As if you weren’t here too," Sieun replied flatly.
"I'm the only one in that entire mess of delicate lawyers who actually knows boxing," Humin said casually, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
Then again, he knew Sieun was not particularly fond of the other employees either.
Most of them were arrogant, loud with their wealth and status, though that was hardly surprising considering they worked for the richest families in the country.
"And how exactly does that help us?" Sieun asked, pulling out his phone to check the GPS.
"If something happens, I can protect you."
"Sure," Sieun answered, completely uninterested.
It took them a while to find the building, relying on the address they had previously investigated.
Until they finally arrived at a building painted entirely black. It looked luxurious, its façade adorned with the image of a dragon alongside Japanese lettering.
It appeared ordinary enough. Elegant, even.
“This is the place,” Sieun informed him.
“Perfect. I already have the police connected to the call,” Humin added, pulling aside his tie to reveal a tiny microphone disguised as a button beneath it.
Apparently, they hoped to extract additional information through them. How absurd.
As Sieun unfastened his seatbelt, he heard Humin following behind him as he stepped out of the car.
“There’s no need for you to come with me,” Sieun told him while walking toward the entrance.
“I wouldn’t forgive myself if something happened,” the other man replied, staying close at his heels.
The moment they crossed through the doors, two tall, broad-shouldered men in suits greeted them.
“Name,” one demanded bluntly.
Sieun calmly retrieved his identification and handed it over as though he belonged there himself.
“I’m legal counsel representing the accused Kim Jisung.”
Kim Jisung was one of the most notable operatives within one of the gangs that held meetings inside the building. His supervisor had already assured him that this identity would grant them access.
And it did.
This needed to be quick if it was going to work. So the moment they were out of the guards’ sight, they hurried up the stairs.
The informant had said he would slip into the bathrooms sometime between ten and ten-fifteen. They had little time to spare.
And the second they located the corridor leading to the restrooms, a familiar silhouette crossed the corner of Sieun’s vision.
It forced him to stop mid-step and turn his head, watching that figure disappear near one of the private rooms.
Sieun could recognize him from behind, even beneath the dim lighting swallowing the place whole.
It was Suho.
He was too far away, but the moment he turned slightly to say something to the man behind him, the breath left Sieun’s lungs entirely.
It was him.
He wore a dark, perfectly tailored suit that clung sharply to his frame, absent of any tie — not the way he normally dressed — and Sieun instinctively moved as though to call out to him.
Then several armed men emerged behind Suho.
Sieun was suddenly yanked into the bathroom by his arm.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Humin hissed at him. “They almost saw you.”
Sieun blinked, disoriented, staring at him. “Who?”
“Those men. If they caught you staring at them, they would’ve questioned you or worse.”
Sieun said nothing.
The image of his husband standing at the center of those armed men remained painfully vivid inside his mind.
“Occupied?” Humin called out into the restroom. Every stall appeared empty except for the very last one.
A young man emerged from it moments later, visibly terrified yet determined. He handed them a paper folder containing the flash drive along with several documents.
“Thank you for this. You’re incredibly brave,” Humin told him.
The boy seemed to believe they were going to free him.
But all they truly needed was enough information to help their client — and to ensure fewer cases ever surfaced publicly.
“You need to leave quickly.”
Humin nodded once more before pulling a silent Sieun back downstairs with him.
“What’s wrong with you?” Humin asked quietly.
“It was…” Sieun swallowed hard, his expression twisting as the realization settled inside him.
“What was there?” Humin repeated while they passed the entrance.
Humin still wore the microphone. Sieun could not say it out loud.
So he stopped abruptly before reaching the exit. He handed the envelope to Humin, who turned toward him in confusion.
“I need to make a call. Wait in the car.”
“Now?” his coworker asked, unwilling to stray far from his side.
Even so, Sieun took out his phone and searched for Suho’s contact among his recent calls.
The moment he pressed the call icon, the screen lit up with a photograph of the two of them smiling widely and their dog between them, taken during a picnic beside a river on the outskirts of the city. Sieun tightened his grip on the phone as he raised it to his ear.
Suho answered after two steady rings.
“What is it, sweetheart?” he asked quietly, as though he did not wish to speak too loudly.
Sieun forced himself to sound neutral.
“What time are you coming home?” he asked instead of answering the question.
“I will be later than expected,” Suho informed him. He sounded as though he was walking somewhere far removed from the noise and chaos around him.
“I got a work coupon for two portions of fried chicken. I could send one over to your office,” Sieun offered while walking behind Humin, who was hurriedly waving him over to get into the car.
The best thing to do right now was avoid drawing attention.
“I already ate, actually.”
Sieun was certain the sound of Humin’s car door had carried through the phone, but before Suho could speak again, his husband interrupted him.
“It’s eleven in the morning.”
Suho fell silent for a few seconds before laughing lightly.
“Ah, right! I was hungry, so I already had a bowl of ramen.”
The lie came out so naturally that Sieun clenched his teeth to stop himself from cursing right there in the middle of the street.
It was fine. He simply inhaled slowly, forcing warmth into his voice.
“Then that is fine,” he replied, climbing into the car as well. He left the door slightly open to avoid making noise. “We will talk later.”
“All right,” Suho answered, sounding oddly eager to end the call. “If anything happens, text me.”
Then he hung up.
The look in Sieun’s eyes was so dark that Humin tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he began driving towards the law firm building.
Sieun was frighteningly quiet. Silent, but not in the way he usually was. It felt as though his mind was racing a thousand miles a second, imagining every possible scenario.
But there was only one thing he knew for certain.
Suho was hiding something from him.
And it was not something small.