“Maybe if I hadn’t have said that,” he starts. “I’d with be with Narae right now. If I had’ve played along, pretended for a time... like they wanted me to, she’d still be here. Jongin wouldn’t hate me. Taemin would be fathered by another man. Everyone would win.”

Strategically, you keep your mouth closed.

“But I said what I said. I fought back. I could’ve reacted they way other men had around Soomin, and she would’ve walked away, head held high, nose in the air.   If I’d done that, I’d be some lowly trainee CEO looking to make a quick buck out of her and her family, simply after their power. Prince number one, duke number eight… her list of suitors was never ending. I’d be forgotten within a day. 
 But when I looked her in her cold, unfeeling eyes and said, I want nothing to do with this, she stalled. 
I’m not interested in you, I continued, foolishly, ignoring the glimmer of intrigue that sparked up within her. The final nail in the coffin was certainly the… I’m in love with another.”

God, you think, nervously twiddling with your fingers. Giving present day Taewon sympathy was one thing, but pre-Soomin Taewon… he really hadn’t asked for this, had he?

“If I was a smart man, I would’ve kept it at that. But I just had to finish it off with a too confident, I won’t leave her for you. No matter what your family is offering us.”

And then it was set?

“How can you blame yourself for that?” You ask, and no, you’re about to become unlikely buddies with him, but it’s sounding like he’s been blaming himself for Narae’s death since it took place, even though he wasn’t the one to kill her. 

And no, his present day crimes aren’t forgotten in the midst of this, but no matter what kind of life someone is trapped in, they shouldn’t have to think about the love of their life dying because of them. Forced into things they don’t want to be a part of, just to stop it from happening. 

“Easily,” he mutters. “I should’ve known. I know what this life is like. I knew from the minute I saw Soomin that something wasn’t right within her. But I got cocky. Angry. Impulsive. I wasn’t the mastermind behind this, like I was starting to believe I could be, I was the bait that was being lowered into the lake and I should’ve run with that. 
 I should’ve played along. Gone through with this sham marriage, like my father had with his first wife all those years ago. I should’ve divorced her after my father had reaped the benefits, which wouldn’t be long at all. But I feared this more than anything else. And you know why?”

“Narae,” you say. Obviously. 

“Of course. But back then it wasn’t even about her physical safety, much as that had been a priority of mine. I’d run wild with the naive thought that I genuinely could escape this life. That I could do it with Narae by my side.
 That if I even contemplated giving my father what he wanted, I’d be ruining what we’d just built. Ruining the beautiful stability we’d found ourselves in the midst of. Thinking that if I married someone else before marrying Narae, marriage wouldn’t be special any more. 
 Narae was the only person I wanted to be married to, and to ensure her safety I had to break the promise I’d made to myself, to her. I couldn’t explain in words how difficult a prospect that was to come to terms with.  
 She was so understanding, so much more than I deserved credit for, but I feared the breaking of our hearts, the breaking of our promises so much that I blinded myself to the dangers I was putting her in by outrightly refusing to go along with my father’s plans. Has there ever been a more foolish person?”

“I–”

But he shakes his head at you, the most gentle movement you’ve seen from him thus far. “There’s no need to answer that. May I instead ask you one question?” He seems to smile at the prospect of repeating what you said to him earlier, right back at you. 

You nod, albeit wearily.

“After hearing all of this… do you really think I killed Narae? Do you really believe I would’ve laid a hand on her that hurt her – willingly?”

“No,” you whisper. People can be adept liars, and spin a narrative any way they want, but there’s no denying it. Taewon loved Narae. 

He always will, won’t he?

He’s quiet for a little while, like he fears mentioning him every time he mentions him. “Then why does Jongin?” 

You come to a halt at this.

Because Jongin was so good at reading people, because he was directly involved in the events of his own life, you’d never questioned the prospect of him being wrong, even if only slightly.  

Jongin had said it was the Lee “family” that caused his mother’s death, but no specific names were mentioned, were they? Yet both of you knew that translated to Taewon and Taewon alone. 

It’s probably because he had to seek out the information alone, and knew he couldn’t talk to his mother about it, with how much she wanted to protect him from all of this, so obviously came to the closest conclusion he could. But even then, glossed over one very important factor.

Soomin’s involvement.  

Soomin’s… she’s not even a thought in the back of Jongin’s mind, is she? Yet she’s the reason for so much.

It’s like Taewon can see the thoughts passing through your mind. You seem to be on the same page here. “He’s lucky in that sense, isn’t he? Soomin is just a figurehead to him, a passing thought in the back of his mind. She’ll never be the real enemy to Jongin, not now that his mind is made up. Just an accomplice of mine.”

You chew at this thought for a minute before voicing it. Maybe you were jumping the gun here, but you can’t help but notice just how much torment he’s been sending her way. “Is that why you destroyed his friendship with Min-seo, because you… see Soomin in her?”

You see something flash behind his eyes at the mention of Min-seo. So that really was it, huh. 

You’d watched enough crime shows to understand what a surrogate killing was. And maybe he wasn’t about to kill Min-seo, and by god you’ll try everything to stop him in his tracks if he is, but he's certainly releasing bottled up rage on her.

That’s the main reason you’re all being targeted, in areas you’re not secure about or have been traumatized by. It’s not personal for everyone, not like you’d initially believed. He clearly gets a sick form of amusement out of it, but it’s mainly there to keep things fair.

To make it less obvious what Min-seo represents to him. How much worse things would be for her, if he didn’t restrain himself.

He knows you’re quick to piece things together, he knows Jongin can read through him and pretty much everyone else like a book and he knows Taemin knows too much to genuinely be blinded about the situation, that he may wear a convincing facade but a facade does not a fool make.

And on this messed up version of a vacation, the four of you have been cast, not in a role you’ve auditioned for, but as main characters in Taewon’s cautionary tale.

Taewon himself? He may just be playing his own father, here. Just to see how Taemin and Jongin react. Just to see if – and how – they become him.

Part of him begging them to, so he at least has someone he can rationalize his own path towards villainy, onto. Prove that it can happen to anyone, if they suffer enough.

He also doesn’t have anyone to mourn with; he’s lost the part of himself that knew how to connect with others, and seeing as he’s forced himself into this role for so long, he’s become it. 

Even though he promised himself he wouldn’t.

Clearly, he’s lost some hold on reality. And if he weren’t who he is, having done the things he’s done, maybe you’d help him. Maybe you’d pity him, too. 

But maybe isn’t what’s on the agenda tonight. 

“I don’t just see Min-seo in her, I feel it in her.”

“I don’t think that’s the case here…” You trail off, truly believing this. She’s not Soomin.

You’re not Narae. For a number of reasons, but you won’t get into them right now. Besides cringing at the thought of Freud having a field day.

Taemin, Jongin… they’re not Taewon. They don’t have to pay for his crimes, they don’t have to be defined by his crimes. 

Regardless of similarities, forced similarities, blood relations, tropes… none of you were stuck in the same tale as them. It’s a very important distinction to make, because Taemin and Jongin fear it everyday; because Min-seo is being punished for crimes she hasn’t committed.

People’s lives aren’t a game. And this isn’t a show.

“Women like Soomin all start off like that. Perfect public personas. You don’t see them behind closed doors. The hate that lies within.”

“It’s a massively different case when someone is a genuinely good person and someone is secretly a murderous psychopath wearing a mask. Like you said, you could see it from the minute you first saw Soomin. Min-seo isn’t like that.”  

“Sometimes hate is learned,” he says tersely. “Sometimes evil brews for years before it rears its head.”

“Even if that is the case,” you say. “Currently, she’s done nothing wrong. Therefore is an innocent girl you’re targeting purely because of superficial similarities you see between her and your arranged wife. A surrogate for you to take anger out on.”  

He shrugs, a cold amusement playing out on his features. Like nothing you could say here will convince him of otherwise. That no matter the case you make for Min-seo, she’s not allowed to be around Jongin.  “Surrogate or not, it won’t be enough until it’s Soomin, until she suffers the way she made Narae suffer.”

You don’t say anything to this, knowing you’d probably chirp in with all the ways she’s made Taemin, and by extension of her attacks on Narae, Jongin suffer. Ruminating over all of the bones you have to pick with Soomin as well as Taewon. 

“Besides, Min-seo’s so weak she’ll drop out before the first week draws to its close.”

“And that’s funny to you?”

“Not when I wish it was Soomin was in her place.” He shakes his head. “This Min-seo nonsense is besides the point. My point is actually a question. One I want you to ask yourself. How do you think Jongin would react if he lost you?”

 

He really wants you to tell him that the whole ‘you and Jongin’ thing isn’t real, doesn’t he? But you stay quiet.

“If you were mercilessly torn away from him one day, after a constant hell myself and Min-seo had put him through… do you think he’d be graceful, polite to those that destroyed his life? Or do you think he’d want revenge? Blood thirsty, destructive revenge?”

“Maybe, probably,” you say. Anyone would. The things he’s been through are horrible, the life he’s been forced to live is also horrible, but he had more than himself to think about here, and he so easily forgot that, didn’t he?

Jongin wouldn’t.

“I highly doubt he’d drag two innocent souls into the mix and make them suffer along with him. What you’ve been through, as horrible as it is, won’t absolve you from what you’ve made Taemin and Jongin suffer through. Even if it’s what makes you change your mind about keeping me alive, I’ll hold to it.”

“I’m not a good person now and I see that,” he says, words void of any clear emotion. “I let my rage take over, my grief. I targeted the wrong people and dragged them down with me. It was wrong and I can’t undo my actions, but…”

“But?”

“I don’t want Jongin to hate me forever. I need him to know I didn’t kill Narae. That I would never hurt him. All I want is to… love him.”

“So you send him cryptic notes and go out of your way to belittle the orphanage? The tragic event he feels guilt for, though he wasn’t involved at all? Not only that, have your cronies stalk his every move?” 

He takes a deep, shaky breath. When he emotes, truly emotes, outside of letting out bottled up rage and pain, it’s always about Jongin. And it’s new emotions. New regret, new pain, new sadness. 

“He hates me,” he says. “It’s the only way to get his attention.”

Besides the first love. Something Taewon can’t risk you knowing he knows about. Because he plans to manipulate Jongin with it, through it.

It might be the only bargaining chip left he has left. 

So that might confirm that Taewon played a hand in them meeting at least, and may also explain why you can’t shake off the unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach when you think of Jongin reuniting with them, through Taewon. 

...Even at all. 

But that’s besides the point, because it’s clear this reuniting process, this meeting Jongin’s been offered, Taewon holds total control over it. And Jongin’s blinded himself to that because he wants this person so much. 

He wants to say something else on the matter but refrains. You study him closely, noticing this.

“Let’s get back to the tale, shall we? I’ll skip describing the first meeting between myself and Soomin further. Just know that after it she became a frequent visitor of the Lee industries, to see my father. 
 She barely focused on me, and I foolishly assumed I was free from her. That she’d set her sights on the more powerful man, the CEO. She hadn’t, she was just very cunning. Playing a game with me I had no idea I was a part of.”

Don’t you hate it when the pot calls the kettle black...? But you stay quiet. 

He pauses. “I was so sure that I’d escaped from this stupid clause, I didn’t even bother telling Narae about it. It was archaic, ridiculous. Times were getting a lot more progressive, I should’ve been able to escape it. We should’ve run away together, never looked back.”

But they didn’t.

 

 She’s late. Back when he was sure his father didn’t know about them, especially about how serious they are, that wouldn’t have worried him. But regardless of whether it’s thirty minutes or an hour, now that he does, it’s an issue.

They’d been planning this for weeks now. A visit to an opening evening at a new art gallery, artists Narae’s admired for years in attendance. 

Finally, after what feels like forever, her silhouette comes into his line of vision as she makes her way over to him, a shadow on her features.

“Narae?” He asks, question in his voice. 

“When were you going to tell me?”

He’d already told her about the fact some of her favorite artists would be in attendance so it couldn’t have been that she was getting at. And by the tone of her voice...

He freezes in place. No. “Narae--” He starts, frantic, panic stricken, nerves on edge. 

But her expression stays the same, blank, tight lipped. The pain is clear, but she doesn’t want to acknowledge it right now. “Before or after you’d proposed to me?” There’s an edge to her voice, but it’s not disguising the pain, eyes welling with tears this time. “Unless that was never on the agenda to begin with.”

She casts one glance at him before stalking off. 

He catches up to her quickly, turning her to face him. “Never on the agenda? I mention it every other week, I talk of our future every day, how can you--”

“And in doing so, you forget to mention the fiancee that’s been on the side all along?”

Fiancee? He scoffs. 

“All along?” The one day he wasn’t in and the snake slithered over to Narae to destroy her trust in him and fill her mind with lies. He told her not to go in today. To just call in sick. But right now, he can’t be mad about that. She had every right to go to work too, especially when she didn’t realize how dangerous his father could be.  “Whatever he’s told you--”

“Told me? He cornered me. Forced me to sit down and in several words threatened me, my position at the company, my access to my apartment. He wouldn’t let me leave until I knew about the beautiful, well educated, high class Jeon Soomin and how she’s been your fiancee since before we met. Since before we met, Taewon! A fact you didn’t once think to mention?”

“Because it’s not true!”

She pauses, eyes narrowing, like she’s not sure if she can believe a word he says any more.   

“Not in the way you think. It’s not even set in stone. It’s an archaic clause that has existed within the family business for way longer than anyone wants it to, but no one’s dared challenge it. I didn’t mention it because I’m doing exactly that. They don’t have my signature, I’ve never met her, I don’t feel a thing for her, I--”

She stays quiet after he’s done. Minutes after. Frozen, feet feeling glued to the cement below her. 

Taewon edges closer, gingerly. He reaches out to take hold of her hand, but stops himself at the last moment, like he can’t face the thought of her harshly pulling her hand away from his. 

“If we wait any longer we’ll be late,” he notes, nervously. “Are we... still going?”

“I can’t do this today,” she chokes out, backing away from him a fraction. “And I-I don’t want to see you right now. Leave me alone for a few days. Please.”

Every day is slow torture. A repetitive hell. She doesn’t come into work for days on end, she won’t answer her phone, she won’t open the door when he knocks on it on several occasions. He’s almost going mad. 

When she finally lets him into her apartment, she ignores him. For an hour.

It’s the longest hour of his life. 

She looks so small, so beaten down, she’s in a loose fitting dress, it’s black. She’s lost weight, she hasn’t been sleeping.   

“I’ve been fired,” she whispers, not wanting to tell him what else his father has threatened to take from her if she doesn’t do as he says and end it with Taewon. “I don’t know what I’m meant to do.” 

 

“It went from being threatened, to being fired, to being attacked.”

“Attacked?”

“A group of men cornered her after she’d picked up some groceries, hit her repeatedly and walked off with whatever money she had on her at the time.”

“Oh my god,” you gasp out, clasping your hands together in shock. “Was it--”

“The mafia? No. Way too downtown to be them. Probably some pathetic street gang that my father had tailed down and paid to do this. Six of them, big, muscular, ganging up on a much smaller woman. All because money was on the agenda.” 

You feel sick to your stomach. 

“I retaliated. I couldn’t find the punks, but I attacked my father that night. He might’ve been stronger than me, but it didn’t deter me. I’d take two black eyes and ten broken bones in place of a scratch on Narae.”  You watch as his fists clench and his eyes close in pain. “He didn’t hit me back, he just smirked and said that it’d be worse next time, until we came to an agreement. I had to meet Soomin. Once more, may I skip describing this aspect?” 

You nod. You don’t know what Soomin looks like, beyond a vague description and an animation, but you can almost see her in your mind. 

The smug expression, calculated gestures. Somehow, you’re also seeing her in a long, red trench coat, with endlessly long legs, imaginary daggers hidden within the arch of her heel.

“After I’d taken Narae to a getaway condo my father didn’t know I was in possession of, and moved her in there, we talked it over. I explained everything in detail, the business marriages, my father’s reason for wanting it to take place, Soomin’s other marriage prospects. 
 She understood, after this. It wasn’t anything like my father had described and thankfully she had enough trust in me to believe my words over his. She was the one to suggest I go meet Soomin, that we talk it out like adults.” 

He laughs, the sound strained. Agonized. 

“I had to agree to be seen publicly with Soomin, to let rumors run rampant about us, to let tabloids report about our ‘budding romance’. Otherwise, the attacks on Narae would get worse. She’d been terrified to leave the condo for weeks and her well being mattered more to me than this sham ever could so...” Guilt. “I agreed to go along with it. I wasn’t with Soomin, we’d interacted a grand total of one time. She was still seeing my father behind closed doors. 
  Because of this, my father told me I didn’t have to end things with Narae, he just assumed it would end by proxy. I told Narae everything and we came to an agreement. We wouldn’t end because of this, because it was something that had a limited timeline to begin with. Once my father got what he wanted out of the merge, and still had his paws stuck onto Soomin, Narae and I would’ve been free.”

You’re wondering how Taemin came to be in all of this, and you’re sure it’s written all over your features. 

“Not the way you think, that’s for sure. But I’ll get to that later.” He clasps his hands together at this, like he’s unsure of what to do with them otherwise, like nervously fidgeting with them isn’t befitting of him, at least not any more. 

You notice a ring on a lengthy chain around his neck, resting outside of his shirt, directly over his heart. His finger is missing a band entirely. 

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what both of these things mean. Who they’re dedicated to. 

He didn’t get to marry Narae officially, did he? And he’d never consider his and Soomin’s marriage as official. 

“Narae’s business became a huge success as you know. But it wasn’t always like that, we’d been cornered. She’d never make a name for herself like this, with all the blocks my father had put in her way.
  Once Soomin tired of my father and the wild flights of fancy he swore he was immune to in regards to her, her real plans were set in motion. To get what she wanted, she thought she could buy Narae off.  And a large part of Narae’s initial success came from Soomin’s meddling, ruthless marketing and connections which is why she almost packed in the idea.”

His eyes seem to shine with pride. “Eventually Narae turned things in her own favor,” but it dims to an expression pained. “But a lot of that I wasn’t there to see because by this point... Soomin had won. She broke us apart.”  

There’s a pause, one where he meets your eyes. 

“Narae loved me, but she loved Jongin more.” 

He doesn’t wait for you to reply, instead carries on with a, “I don’t blame her for that. I never could. Even though the love in my heart was equal parts Narae, equal parts Jongin, their safety mattered more than my pain. 
 All the nights I had to be away from them, playing a false-happy family with Soomin hurt like nothing else, but it had to, because otherwise I would’ve lost them both. Forever.”

Taemin isn’t even a thought in the back of his mind, is he? He’s just an extension of Soomin. 

Thank god you found him when you did. Thank god you can move him in with you the minute you set foot back in Seoul. 

You don’t care how much you’re threatened, you’ve already wasted too much time. Worrying, questioning yourself, when he’s been crying out for help all along. 

Part of you wonders if Jongin’s ever offered him the same. A place to stay, a place free of his parents.

...A home. 

 

  “I think we need to redecorate,” Soomin drawls as she glances around her and Taeseok’s shared bedroom from her position on the bed. “I tire of the mahogany.” 

His laughter is loud, as irritating as usual. “You told me it was your favorite color.” 

“It was,” she says, voice monotone.  “But it’s everywhere I look these days. Quite drab, you know? I need some... excitement.” 

His smirk sends an unpleasant shudder through her. She can almost predict what he’ll say next.

“Then get over here, gorgeous.”

As he moves closer to her, she angles her position so he doesn’t get to lay his grubby paws on her newest negligee. “I’ve been thinking, Taeseokkie.” Forcing back the bile in as she forces the nickname out, she directs an entirely faux but entirely convincing demure smile his way.

“You’ve been doing a lot of that recently.” He peers at her, raising an eyebrow. “Something on your mind?”

“Many things,” she whispers, adopting an eerily forlorn quality. But this only edges Taeseok closer. “And I’m so sad.”

He stalls, abruptly. What hadn’t he been providing her? 

“Not at you, darling. You know this isn’t your fault. Society is what keeps us chained to this secrecy. But society shouldn’t be challenged if we want to keep this up.”

He nods, but the movement is a little weary. “What are you getting at?”

“I’ve been thinking about a particular Lee requirement of the past. The one your father rid of.”

“The one about needing an heir to be eligible for the position of CEO?”

She nods, and he misses the devious glimmer in her eyes. 

Taeseok hums, he’d been happy with how it was. “I could change the rules back, though you know what that would mean.”

“Oh I know,” she whispers, forcing a sad note into her words. “And you know how much I wish it were you in his place Taeseokkie, but we can’t, not with societies watchful eyes stalking our every move.” She knows she sounds too sure of this, to the point he may question her motives, so she blinks up at him as innocently as she can manage. “...Can we?”

“We can do whatever we damn well please, baby. I make the rules now that my old man’s six feet under.”  

Something flashes behind Soomin’s eyes at this, irritation. He had a habit of making things difficult. She only planned to keep him around as long as was necessary, and she needed this to be an official clause if she were to fully commit to it. 

Sure she had better prospects, but at the heart of the matter, the power she’d receive if she entered into one of them would be minimal in comparison the the power she’d been offered here. She wasn’t born into royalty, but she was born in Seoul, and the thought of controlling it, building an empire that would be the most indestructible of its kind... it was enticing. 

Plus it would allow her the freedom that a life of royalty would not. 

There were the superficial reasons too, of course. Taewon was attractive, as well, unlike the princes and dukes that had attempted to court her, and when two attractive people come together, they set up the perfect future for their offspring.

She could almost see it now, a beautiful, golden heir. She always felt she’d take well to motherhood, not because she was particularly fond of children, but it’d give her something to do. Help her keep up the pretense of being like everybody else, feeling like everybody else.

No one would expect the doting mother to be the true criminal, now would they? She’d have leverage if anything did go awry with Taewon. And with the good for nothing other woman in the picture, it surely would. 

Taeseok glances at Soomin, once more, as if giving in. All she had to do was bat her lashes once, and he was throwing her every desire her way. “I’ll look into changing it in the morning, but for now, get over here.”

This was too easy. 

 

“How will we go about this?” Taeseok asks, several weeks later. Taewon had been distant at best. He’d come in and get his job done but he wouldn’t hear a peep from him during, and certainly not after.  

He’d always been worried about the prospect but it was really starting to seem like his son will up and leave any moment now. And it isn’t like he has another option to choose from. 

Taewon is his heir, Taewon is the company’s heir. 

Soomin is onto something with this. But as beautiful as she is, his foolish son doesn’t look her way.

Soomin hums. Time was ticking, Taewon was putting off the wedding as long as physically possible, so she needed to speed things up before he ruined things for them all. 

Her usual seduction wouldn’t work, it hadn’t on the first meeting and it wouldn’t now. She smirked to herself. She had the perfect concoction, a nice little aphrodisiac here, a mind numbing drug there; perfect for causing a drug-induced black out.  If it was the last thing she did, she’d get this wedding. 

She’d trap him into staying with her with an heir, because even if there’s no love in the marriage, there’s security for generations to come. She had no business knowledge herself, and whether she liked it or not, had all of her opportunities handed to her. 

Her only hope of securing anything in the lifestyle she wanted without having to rely on her father, who was already ridiculously controlling as it was, to truly be able to live on her own terms, would be to trap someone like Taewon with her for life. 

He didn’t care for her and she felt assured that wouldn’t change, so she’d be free to do her own thing, without having dozens of people trailing her every move, berating her every expression or lack thereof. 

Royalty was overrated. Being able to own Seoul on the sly however? 

That would be exquisite. 

“I have the perfect plan,” she says. “Seeing as there’s no other way than to play into their foolish little love affair, I’ll invite the two of them out, making it seem like I’m about to throw in the towel on our arrangement. 
 Then find a way to separate them for a time, calling a cab for what will be an evidently drunken...” She stops here, eyebrows furrowing together. “What is her name, again?”

Taeseok shrugs. “I can’t remember.” 

Soomin waves her hand, like it’s hardly relevant anyway. “Well, she’ll be drunk beyond reason, then sent home. 
 When I’m sure no one’s looking, I’ll spike his drink. Taewon’s idiotic self will be looking for her once he realizes she’s missing, so as my concoction takes effect, I’ll tail him. 
 Then guide him into a private room with me, under the illusion I’m her, which is a little over the top anyway, seeing as he won’t remember anything. Not even entering the room with me.”

Regardless of the amount of DNA tests she’d have to give him, she’d do it. And if this attempt failed, she’d find a way to repeat this night, over and over again, until she got what she wanted.

Taeseok nods, as if the implications of this don’t even bother him. “You have to do what you have to do. Much rather a grandchild from you than from the one he’s obsessed with. I’ll spoil him rotten.”

You won’t get to meet them, she almost replies. But holds her tongue.  Once she’d set this plan in motion, she could go forth with phase two. Force Taewon into the position of CEO. 

Finally rid herself of Taeseok for good. 

 

 “Clearly, she succeeded.” He’s quiet for a time, looking everywhere but your eyes. “And she lied, too. She had me believing I’d only gotten drunk. That it was a really bad hangover I was experiencing in the days after. I hated myself for so long, for thinking I’d ever let myself get drunk to a point where I wouldn’t even be able to recognize Narae.”

He doesn’t say anything when he next meets eyes with you, but you know he sees it too. The knowing, distant look in your eyes. “Did it ruin things with Narae?” You ask, teetering into this gently. “Before you knew you’d been drugged, I mean?”  

 “No,” he says, as he sounds as surprised as you feel. “Narae knew what she was. It was the first time they’d ever met, but she could see something evil in her. Narae wasn’t surprised when her suspicions were confirmed, but she supported me. Even when we found out that Soomin was--”

“If you were drugged–” You begin, but he stops you in your tracks. 

“What does it matter if I was drugged, I can’t turn back time. She did what she had to to get what she wanted out of me and we never touched again.” He exhales sharply. “I can’t connect to Taemin, but I know this isn’t his fault. I don’t need to be told that.” 

You were actually going to say that it’d explain why he felt so distant around him. That maybe if he’d gone to therapy, he wouldn’t have taken what would’ve been an understandable anger and pain out on Taemin. 

Taemin had no say in his conception, yet he was the one to face the brunt and suffering for something that was entirely his mother’s doing, being flung between the two of them whenever they wanted to take their anger out on each other, using him as the proxy. 

He stays quiet for a little while, like he’s preparing you for the bomb he’s about to drop. “The six months between Taemin and Jongin were intense. Soomin murdered my father, blamed me for it, created a completely false narrative that would only be cleared if I agreed to move in with her and truly play happy families. False wedding and all.” 

You stall. “She has that much power?”

“She had that much power,” he mutters. “Things are slightly different now. It might be a constant battle of power between us, but she’s been knocked down a few pegs.” 

 

 

With the darkest, most conniving smile, she edges closer, the air feeling like it’s closing in on Taewon. “I’ll make sure I take every precaution possible these next nine months. I don’t expect you to be around for them, but you’ll need to smile for the pictures.” 

She leans in, placing a chaste kiss against his cheek. Taewon wonders if his skin will melt away, with the possible poison she’s placing there. “I’m off to see Taeseok. We’re going to talk about potential names. I’ll be sure to choose the one that will piss you off the most.”

 

When he makes his way through the door of their condo, he can barely look at her, the guilt seeping into his every pore. It’s been weeks, and Soomin had told him what she’d done a couple of days ago, with the most evil smirk on her lips, like she was proud of it, but it didn’t change how he was feeling inside. 

Even if he hadn’t asked for this, as evil as Soomin was, his body should’ve found a way to resist on the sole premise of Narae’s existence. The love he has for her should’ve overpowered the substances being forced down his throat. 

...If he says this to her, he knows she’ll think him mad. But he can’t wash the thoughts away. 

He has nightmares about the night Soomin told him she’s carrying their child. Something he only ever wanted with Narae, something he’ll probably never get to experience with her, now. 

She’s too kind. Too good. She’ll see herself as a homewrecker, when Soomin’s the one who’s destroyed everything they’ve ever built and planned. 

But he took part in that, he doesn’t have an excuse. Even though it was against his will, he can’t forgive himself for it. For not seeing through her flimsy invite, knowing she’d never wave a white flag. 

Narae would argue that how would he have known, she’d been making it seem like she was in love with Taeseok for months, hadn’t she? 

They just wanted to be free, officially. 

And now...

“Narae...”

She’s baking. She turns to him, eyes full of happiness, full of love. He wonders how. How she can even look at him right now. 

“Want to help?”

He nods, willing the tears away. How could she still stand there after everything she’d been put through because of him and smile like he was the one who lit up her world? 

Where would he be if it wasn’t for her? If he hadn’t have walked into that downtown restaurant all those years ago? 

She takes the mixing spatula out of the bowl and splashes it against his cheek, leaving a streak of mixture in its wake. 

He blinks in shock for a moment before he chuckles. 

Before they both burst into a fit of giggles. She throws the spatula to the side, now done with it, and edges closer, wrapping her arms around him, snuggling into his embrace. 

“I love you,” she whispers. “No matter what.”

The ring he’s had made for her weighs heavily in his pocket, wanting nothing more than to be placed onto her finger. But he knows he can’t, not until this all blows over, at least. 

 

“Between this and prior to Jongin,” he says. “Things were hard. Impossibly so. But it almost felt like karma. Karma for walking into that room with Soomin all those months before. Regardless of the force i