July 13, 2019
 

Kyungsoo was intently going through KRIS Enterprises’ financial reports when he reluctantly looked up from his screen at the soft knocking on the door.  Secretary Heechul had gone home for the day, and he was probably the only person in the office now.  He took a glance at the grandfather clock over by the door to see that it was turning ten in the evening.
 

“W-Who is it?” he called out nervously, his fingers poised at the emergency button at the side of his table to call on security.
 

A familiar face popped at the open crack of the door.
 

He gasped and stood from his chair.  “Appa!”
 

Yifan gave a slight smile and, with his cane, weakly entered the vast room.
 

“What are you doing here?” Kyungsoo immediately rushed from behind the desk to guide him by the arm.  “You should be resting at home.”
 

“Well, this is the sixth night that my child is missing dinner with his parents, so I thought to bring the food your omma prepared for you.”
 

That was when Kyungsoo noticed his father carrying a compact canister with him.
 

He had to smile and relent as Yifan sat on the chair in front of him. 
 

“You didn’t have to go all the way out here, Appa, I was about to go home anyway,” Kyungsoo gently scolded, clearing a portion of the desk to lay out the food. 
 

Yifan sighed, eyeing the four walls of his turf wistfully.  “I am starting to miss this office, believe it or not.”
 

Kyungsoo stared at his father in compassion. Yifan clucked his tongue and motioned for his child to eat.  “While it’s still warm.”
 

His father had packed kimchi stew and samgyeopsal for him.
 

His mouth watered as the aroma of the scrumptious meal wafted in the air.  He’d had a hefty dinner during a corporate event a couple of hours ago, and still he found himself famished.  The delicious, hot stew filled his empty tummy in the most gratifying way, knowing that he was nourishing his body with his mother’s kimchi from home.
 

Yifan silently observed the dark circles under Kyungsoo’s eyes, which could only result from lack of sleep.  It saddened him, because Kyungsoo was always full of passion.  His child said what was in his heart and didn’t hesitate to express what was on his mind. 
 

Since Chanyeol disappeared two weeks ago, Kyungsoo had come home to his parents’ house but had delved into work in KRIS Enterprises perhaps as a way of distraction and survival, in order not to drown in grief. 
 

“Have you heard from your alpha?” Yifan asked softly, watching his only child gratefully devouring the food, whilst typing on the computer occasionally. 
 

Kyungsoo’s fingers froze in the middle of replying to an email, before his eyes went downcast.  He hadn’t contacted Chanyeol after the taller one left Macau that day, and neither did Chanyeol make any attempts to inform him or his family of his whereabouts.  “Aniyo,” he whispered, shakily stuffing his mouth the final piece of pork belly before returning to his email. 
 

“Would you like to know where he is?”
 

Kyungsoo met his father’s eyes, the meat in his mouth suddenly felt as if he were chewing on paper.  Of course his father had enough connections all over the world to locate one person, even someone who didn’t want to be found. 
 

He shook his head and took a swig of water, blinking repeatedly as his eyes burned with tears, which happened everytime he thought of Chanyeol and the last things they said to each other. 
 

Those irreversible, harsh words he didn’t think would come from his alpha.
 

Who swore he couldn’t let him go, but then… he did.
 

“He didn’t go far,” Kyungsoo heard his father tell him.  “He’s in Jeju Island.”
 

The smaller one simply nodded, had kind of expected that was one of the places Chanyeol would head to.  Kyungsoo finished his email with every strand of concentration he had left. 
 

“You can take the day off tomorrow,” Yifan gently continued, as Kyungsoo shut his computer down.  “Fly to him and—”

Kyungsoo laughed under his breath, more of an exhausted exhale, rather than out of the hilarity of the situation.  He couldn’t fault his father for wanting to make amends now, or for merely wanting to make things better for him.  “Chanyeol made it clear that he didn’t want anything to do with me.” 
 

He forlornly looked at the leftover stew and didn’t have the heart to leave it behind.  Besides, it was too good and provided so much comfort.  He cupped the container with both hands and sipped it to the last drop.
 

And yet, he was still hungry.
 

Why was he still damn hungry?!
 

He couldn’t stand that his father was just sitting opposite him, looking helpless as to what to say or do. 
 

“Chanyeol’s father wasn’t that vile, was he?” Kyungsoo asked in dejection, putting the container of the stew down. 
 

Yifan’s jaw dropped.
 

“My mother-in-law told us everything, in Macau,” Kyungsoo bit his trembling lower lip, the recollection of his alpha’s betrayed expression tormenting him to no end.  “How he staked all of the winnings on the underground gambling ring, how you tried to obscure and hide him from the Jo-Pok as part of your const