“She was better than happy—she was free.”
— B. Diaz   || Two Hours Earlier ||   “How the hell do you forget to bring the most important item we needed to get this job done?” the more tenured of the two lectured for the nth time, the bushy brows hidden under his baseball cap rapidly connecting at the center. “The client paid top dollar for this and you can bet on your mother’s grave hyung-nim will have both our heads and our asses if you screw this up,” he warned, sending chills down his and his partner’s back.   The man to his right jerked his head away and winced at the constant scolding. “I’m sorry, okay? I thought you already had it with you,” he countered, mumbling the rest of his rebuttal under his breath, “Besides, who the orders a hit with just a name and single picture—and only one copy at that?”   “They didn’t want to take the slightest chance of anything being linked back to them,” his partner explained as they scanned the halls for their faceless target.   “We’ve had this client for a while now, and they never gave a damn how we completed all the previous jobs. What’s so different about this one?” he commented, turning his much lower field of vision to the same crowd of diligent employees making last minute preparations for the hotel’s event.   “Boss thinks this one’s a hotshot—hence why he ordered us to be meticulous with it. So just shut your trap, rack that empty brain of yours, and try hard to remember what he looks like,” the man a head taller ordered. But as he attempted to reroute the conversation back to his colleague’s mistake, his undivided attention immediately shifted elsewhere. “There he is,” he whispered as he pointed to the two people emerging from the elevators.   “You sure that’s him?” his lesser counterpart contested, “Doesn’t really look like the guy in the picture.”   “But the other one does,” he replied without a drop of hesitation, referring to the second individual who was also in photo they were provided.   “The other one?” his partner repeated.   “Yeah, check out the chick next to him,” he instructed with a lecherous smirk and sinful eyes, “You don’t forget a girl like that. Let’s go.”   || …………… ||   “Well then…enjoy your evening and drive safe Junmyeon,” Ara replied, flashing a friendly smile before taking her leave.   Matching her expression, Junmyeon allowed the curve of his lips to widen. “Same to you Ara,” he stated as he watched her walk the length of the long hallway before following in her trail.   But as he reached the foyer to the main ballroom, two uniformed men in black jumpsuits and baseball caps stopped his tracks.   “Excuse me, General Manager Byun?” the taller of the two began as they not-so-secretly scanned him from head to toe and back. “Uh, we’re from Ice Sculp Co. here to deliver an ice sculpture. If you can please come with us to inspect and sign off on the delivery, we’d really appreciated it,” he started without waiting for confirmation that the person in front of him was indeed their target.   “Oh, I’m n—” a confused Junmyeon replied, but the second man interjected before he could correct their mistake.   “We’re really sorry, but we’re on a bit of a time crunch so if we can, you know,” the man claimed, motioning for all three of them to start moving. “It shouldn’t take long, we promise,” he added as he and his partner sandwich the unsuspecting man.   But just as they thought they had secured the bag, a figure in champagne halted their steps.   “Can I help you gentlemen?” Ara asked as she blocked their escape with a false smile. She had noticed the two strangers lurking by the corner earlier, but it wasn’t until they started hounding Junmyeon did her suspicion finally crept in—though whatever caused it, she was yet to find out.   Slightly surprised by both the interruption and the sudden beauty that appeared in front of them, the less tenured hitman found himself temporarily paralyzed. “Huh? Ah—yes. We just need the general manager to sign off on a delivery,” he answered eventually.   Ara glanced at the bogus company name embroidered on their uniforms and scoffed internally. They were either newbies in this profession or just plain senseless. The ice sculpture in question was already in the hotel’s possession before the clock struck 10 this morning. In fact, it had been personally delivered by the artist herself.   “The general manager?” she repeated as she glanced at Junmyeon. The twisted story was starting to unveil itself, but every fragment that linked to the last frightened her.   Yes, she had the option to play it safe and have them escorted out by security, but doing so would only open a second opportunity for them—or someone better—to go after the right Byun Baekhyun. Therefore, she needed to see this to the end.   “There’s no need, I can help with that. I’m the catering director in charge of the event,” she replied, converting her smile to a naive yet charming grin that masked her distrust well enough.   Unable to come up with an impromptu excuse, the stupefied man silently passed the baton to his partner.   “We appreciate the offer, but boss’s orders it has to be the GM,” the guy towering above all of them replied, his tone rather cold and menacing, “We’ve had problems with other deliveries, you see.”   Maintaining her ground, Ara met his ominous lenses and simply broadened her smile. “I understand. I'll take full responsibility for any issues that arise, so lead the way gentlemen,” she countered, gesturing them to continue on their track.   Of course, she was well aware of the highly possible danger she was putting herself in, but she’d rather it be her than Junmyeon, let alone, Baekhyun. Whatever their end goal was, she was determined to see it to the finish line, and to do so unaccompanied —but an equally resolute voice interjected from the side, instantly draining the color from her face.   “Actually, I can spare a few minutes. How about we all go together?” Junmyeon offered, his expression firm, tone unyielding.   || …………… ||   From the first instance his ex-fiancée summoned that false smile to hide her calculating lenses, Junmyeon realized the situation materializing before him was not just a simple case of mistaken identity. That in fact, it was something more complicated and dangerous.   He knew Ara far too well not to notice her intentions to protect him and Baekhyun, and he trusted her wholeheartedly that she knew what she was doing—but it didn’t mean he would let her proceed alone, especially not with two strangers who had been eyeing her with menacing lust.   And so far, his instinct to accompany them, despite Ara’s silent protest, was proving more and more to be the right call.   The two men had led them to the west wing of the hotel currently used as cold storage—a portion of the massive structure very rarely visited by employees. Its hallways were frosty and quiet. Long and empty. A perfect place to commit a crime and hide the evidence uninterrupted.
“So how much does this pay?” Ara began as she followed their footsteps without hesitation.   The shorter of the two glanced over his shoulder and pressed his lips together in a supposedly humble smile, “Ice delivery? Not enough if you ask me, but it does get food on the table and sends the kids to school.”   Ara chuckled softly at his attempt to paint a loving familial story. “Sorry, let me clarify,” she corrected, finally removing her amicable mask, “How much is Seo Da Ye paying you?”   Both men slowed their steps upon hearing their client’s name. “I’m—I’m not sure what you mean…” the same guy replied with a slight tilt of the head.   Wearing an expression more suited for their occupation, his partner directed all eyes over to him. “Cut the act,” he ordered coldly as he met the woman’s unsurprised lenses, “This one's got brains.”
Ara smirked slightly at his instruction. Finally, they were getting somewhere. “So what is it exactly has she ordered you to do?” she continued just as they arrive in front of the backup walk-in freezer—one of seven in the whole hotel.

The man matched her current expression, except the line on his lips curved wider. “Part of the payment is keeping our mouths shut,” he answered.
“And if I double that amount?” Ara countered, betting they could easily be bought by cold hard cash just like all the previous scums her mother hired. And as expected, the shorter of the two waivered almost immediately, his eyes marked with money signs, his vision glittering in gold.   But to her surprise, his more dominant counterpart flat out rejected her proposal.
“Tempting, but sorry sweet cheeks. We don't double cross our clients,” the man towering above her responded. He then took a step closer and summoned a telling smirk. “However…I may be open to spilling some details in exchange for another type of payment,” he offered, reaching to her face.   But just before a fingertip could graze a strand of Ara’s hair, Junmyeon pulled her behind him, blocking those licentious eyes from undressing her any further.   Left with his arm in the air, the man scoffed and took a step back. “I can see why she wants you gone,” he commented under his breath, unintentionally revealing to their prey what it was Da Ye hired them to do.   “Gone?” Ara repeated quietly to herself. She knew her mother wanted to harm Baekhyun, but for her to want him dead—the witch must’ve truly lost her mind.   “You can’t possibly think you’ll actually get away with this. Do you know just how well connected the Byun family is?” Junmyeon reasoned as he tried to shield Ara further, his brain desperately ransacking every crevice for a way to let her get away safely.   “What about her? It’d be such a waste,” he heard the other man ask, disrupting his search.   “Sometimes a job comes with collateral damage,” his partner answered coldly, just as a third fourth set of arms swung from behind, knocking their victims unconscious.   || Two Hours Later ||   Baekhyun jogged down the flight of stairs, from the third floor to the lobby, forgoing waiting for the elevator to be with his wife faster.   The board meeting lasted more the hour and a half expected, which meant that for almost thirty minutes, Ara had been gracing a room full of unrestrained men with her presence without him there to ward them off.   Wearing an ear-to-ear smile that sparkled brighter than the Swarovski chandeliers dangling from the 20’ ceiling, he entered the banquet hall fully expecting Ara to be the first image his excited le