Birds were already chirping and the sun rising when Bora fell into the arms of Morpheus. She didn't dream and woke up barely a couple hours later, as the sun made its slow and steady ascension towards its zenith.

The early morning light filtered in through the bay windows and the sun bathed her exposed skin in a pool of warmth.

She cracked an eye open and was momentaneously blinded by how luminous the place was. Rubbing the sleep off her eyes, she her back. Her eyes focused where the ceiling met with a massive wooden pillar.

She tried to think about nothing.

It was hard.

The roar of her thoughts assaulted her like a wave she'd tried to keep at bay in the back of her mind. But there was only so much she could do. She felt the upcoming headache heading her way and sat up straight on the sofa.

Too fast.

Her vision blackened out for a few seconds and she felt dizzy. She grabbed her forehead and the sting in her shoulder came as another reminder she couldn't escape the events of the previous night.

She had been shot.

Actually shot.

Her arm was like a weight pulling her down and she groaned. Clenching her teeth, she exhaled softly through as her gaze drifted towards the bay windows in front of her, beyond the living room.

Her heart almost stopped at the view displayed in front of her through the bay window.

She hadn't noticed in the night but now, as the sun rose in front of her, it gave her the most astounding panoramic view of the mountains outside.

The same mountains she'd always observed from far away, enclosed in the city. Not once, in her eight years living in Seoul, did she venture beyond the limits of the city. She'd never given the city a single chance.

She slowly closed the distance between her and the window, the tip of her fingers grazing the glass and fog forming where exhaled.

The mountains tops were hidden under the early morning fog and the sunrise painted the sky a light shade of purple. The landscape spread on miles on end, and, beyond, the skyline of Seoul was visible, the Seoul Tower reigning supreme over the city.

The view was like a dream. If it was a painting, she'd title it Purple Haze.

Seoul, the city she loved and hated simultaneously.

The city that'd seen her worst moments.

The city she'd met her best friend in.

The city that'd taken her away from Busan and her childhood and rocked her into adulthood prematurely.

So much love and pain bottled up in one place.

It was breathtaking.

Yes, purple haze definitely suited the view.

"Great view, right?"

Bora's heart missed a beat as she turned around, a hand on her chest. "God."

"Just me," Jackson deadpanned.

He stood at the bottom of the stairs. He'd moved so stealthily that she hadn't heard his footsteps echoing against the wooden floor.

Or maybe she'd just been too engrossed in the view.

She took in his appearance. He looked like he'd gotten a good 8-hours of sleep, she thought.

God damn him.

She cleared and replied, "The view is awesome," she turned back to the breathtaking view and pointed to the Seoul Tower. "It must be magnificent from up there."

"You've never been to the top?" He pried, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. She shook her head sharply , not entertaining the idea of delving deeper in her eight years living in Seoul and he simply said, "It is magnificent, indeed."

His voice faded to silence and she tried to ignore the tension and awkwardness building up in the room.

Tried.

And failed.

She could feel him drilling holes through her skull with his eyes. The thought of all the things she'd confessed to him the previous night rushed back to her and she felt heat creeping up her cheeks.

The things she'd been keeping to herself the past eight years. Things she'd never admitted to anyone. She'd admitted it to him.

She wanted to slap herself in the face.

Jackson Wang was no one.

A stranger.

What on earth had she been thinking when she'd poured her heart out like that? She was glad she wasn't facing him, somehow.

She took a deep breath and turned around, striding past him with her eyes locked on the floor. "If we're done, then."

"What happened in the bunker?" His voice caught up to her and she froze midway to the living room. "When you were alone with Seonmin," He added quietly, slowly turning around. "What did he tell you?"

The mechanisms in her head kicked into motion. She realized he had zero idea what she did or didn't know.

He didn't know she knew about the prisoners that South Korea, her country, had mistreated and used like slaves before abandoning them like used rags.

About both their fathers' involvement in it. He didn't know she knew about South Korea's dirtiest secret.

A secret which could potentially lead to war if it was uncovered by the North.

She straightened her back fighting the weight of all the secrets threatening to make her sink down on her knees, and turned around to face him.

"Not much," She lied smoothly, but her shifty eyes gave her away.

A smile curled a corner of Jackson's lips slightly. Bad, bad liar.

He sensed the lie, of course. If he had to name one good aspect of dealing with mafiosos, it was his ability to detect lies, honed and mastered over the years. Still, he moved on to the other question that had been taunting the back of his head. "What did he do to you?"

The bruises and the cuts she'd made in the last days were getting lost on him. He couldn't keep track of who had inflicted her what. Had the reddish blots on her chest been there before Seonmin? Or after?

He felt her tense and saw her shrug stiffly. He found himself observing the way the way her shoulders went up, and then down almost weakly, revealing bony collarbones as the loose shirt slid down her shoulder. He almost wanted to tuck it back in place.

"Hoo Seonmin wanted to know about the hard drive," Jackson's attention snapped back to her face. "He wanted to know what was on it, what I knew about the whole ordeal. I don't think he knows what's on the hard drive if that's what you're worried about."

She wasn't answering his question, but he rolled with it anyway. "What did you tell him?"

She gritted her teeth. "What could I have possibly told him? I couldn't say anything for the simple reason that I don't know anything."

This brought him some relief. He ran over his lip piercing with the tip of his tongue. "Great."

Bora took a sudden step forward, almost choking on her next word. "Great?"

A hint of surprise glimmered in Jackson's eyes but, to his credit, he didn't back off. "You're better off not knowing," He stood his ground. "He would've killed you if you'd just told him. If I had just told you."

Bora saw red. "Stop... bubble-wrapping me!" She strode over to Jackson and clenched her fists to hold off from grabbing his shirt and shaking some sense into him. She didn't want to appear mentally unstable. Even if that was what exactly how she felt at the moment. "I can't go on like that anymore. I'm telling you I want to know, I need to know."  The desperation could still be heard in her words, though.

Jackson raised his voice in the slightest. "I'm doing to you what I wish had been done to me."

Keeping her anger from bursting like a volcano she balled her fists and said quietly, "You do realize I'm going to find out, one way or another, right?"

He stared down at her for a few agonizing seconds ever so quiet, and she dared hope she'd swayed him. That is, until he said, "Believe me, Princess, I did you a favor. You'll thank me later."

She wanted to explode and tell him of the few places she thought he could shove his favors up to.

Instead she said, "Don't call me that."

"A princess?" Jackson arched a perfectly shaped brow. "But you are. A princess who lived in a castle of illusions. And your father is the king who maintained the illusion altogether for over two decades. Who would I be to break it all down?"

"My prince in shining armor?" She deadpanned.

Jackson laughed a rich, deep laugh and she rolled her eyes. "I need a shower."

"As much as I agre