Jung Seo-Yun
The plea caught in my throat, a pathetic whimper I’d practiced for this exact moment. “Please… don’t hurt me.” My hands trembled as I wiped a manufactured tear. One of the men chuckled, stepping closer.
This was it. The culmination of months of planning, the moment of truth.
I toyed with a strand of hair, feigning vulnerability.
“Come now, darling,” he purred, his voice laced with menace. “Make it easy for us, and we won’t hurt you.” I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the tears to flow. “J-just let me go… I won’t report you, I swear.”
A voice cut through my performance, cold and sharp. It wasn’t one of the two men looming over me. It felt like ice water down my spine.
“I thought this wasn’t going to take long.” The words sent a tremor through me, turning my limbs to lead. This voice… it wasn’t just harsh, it was *wrong*. It wasn’t human.
A gloved hand clamped over my mouth, silencing my protest. The other hand pressed a familiar pressure point on my neck, and I felt the world tilt sideways. I couldn't breathe. How had he moved so quickly? How had I not heard him approach?
Calm down. Breathe.
Don't break character.
Discovery wasn't an option. Not yet.
“We’re sorry, Suga,” one of the men mumbled, his voice laced with fear. “We won’t be this slow next time.”
“Good. Open the door, you idiots…” The voice was a low growl, barely audible but cutting through the tension like a blade.
Suga.
I strained to see his face, but he wore a mask. Black hair, pale skin… and the eyes. They were the thing that stole my breath.
They were like looking into the abyss. If eyes could kill, I’d be lying in a heap on the floor.
*Shut up, Seo-Yun.*
Don’t be weak. You've walked through fire before. You’re a predator, not prey.
I clenched my fists, desperate to bite the hand that silenced me. But I only tasted air. A low chuckle echoed behind me.
He knew.
I recognized the voice. The leader. The one I’d been counting on to misdirect. A chance to kill two birds with one stone. But failure meant exposure.
The man shoved me towards a waiting car, but before I could be forced inside, sirens wailed in the distance. The hand on my mouth loosened. A frustrated grunt, then a quick retreat into the vehicle.
He looked back. His gaze was cold, calculating. It felt like he was stripping me bare, seeing through the layers of deception. He knew something.
Hopeless.
The police arrived quickly, questioning me, driving me home. An officer handed me a card.
“Officer Jungkook,” he said, offering a polite bow. “Call me if this happens again.”
I crumpled the card in my fist, shoving it into my pocket. “I don’t need your help.” The words tasted like ash.
Rage simmered beneath my icy facade. How could he treat me like this? Like a helpless pawn? The humiliation burned. If I crossed paths with ‘Suga’ again, I’d kick him into oblivion, along with every pathetic follower in his wake.
Just you wait.