“You’re defending a murderer?” He spits in a tone of dark anger, barging through her office with brows closely knit together, “… you used me to get information that’ll improve a ing murderer, Chaeyoung? What the is wrong with you?” 

He never expected their story to resume on such a light, after seeing her on the television screen speaking to the press about how she’d be doing everything in her power to advocate for a man that was awaiting trial. 

“Miss Park, I’m sorry I told him he couldn’t come in without an appointment but he just went through without—” The soft voice of the receptionist breaks through the tension. 

Park Chaeyoung isn’t the slightest bit fazed, carefully pulling her glasses down to her desk while looking up, completely ignoring him, “… it’s fine, can you close the door and give us a moment? Please check if we have a spare room, prep it and put my next client in there, I won’t be long at all.”

He watches, with complete disgust as the younger woman leaves the room, closing the door carefully. Park Chaeyoung doesn’t seem to be at all anxious at his accusation or words, putting her large rimmed frames back on as she continues typing. 

“Say something God damnit,” he curses, “… what the heck have you even become?” 

Svelte fingertips stop typing as she looks up from her screen, glaring at him. 

“I told you that we’re better apart,” she speaks, “… I don’t want to see you ever again.”

There’s no sense of emotion in her voice, as though she were doing a mere business transaction, rolling her eyes as she moves from her seat, heeled legs walking towards the door, opening it. 

“You may leave now, if that’s all you came for,” she finally looks at him, “… please leave.” 

He walks towards her, slamming the door shut. 

“I am so disgusted in you right now, Chaeyoung. Do you even know how used I felt? You wanted to pursue medicine, to save people but now… you’re letting them get away with and using me for it? If I had known, I would’ve never agreed to take you to that event, knowing you were just going to find something to defend a complete psychopath.” 

She crosses her arms together, rolling her eyes. 

“Sit,” she demands, pointing to the chair in