Chapter Text
Sydney looked prettier from a distance.
That was what Hyunjin had learned during his first year in Australia.
From far away, the city was all glittering water and bright windows, gold spilling across the harbour like someone had emptied heaven into the ocean. Tourists took photographs of the Opera House. Couples held hands beneath fairy lights. People laughed on sidewalks and drank expensive wine in restaurants that smelled like perfume and grilled meat.
From far away, Sydney looked like a place where terrible things could never happen.
Up close, Hyunjin knew better.
Terrible things followed people.
Sometimes they crossed oceans.
Sometimes they followed you into another country and sat quietly inside your chest.
Hyunjin pulled his coat tighter around himself as he walked down the nearly empty street, his dance bag hanging heavily from one shoulder. It was past eleven on a Friday night. He had spent the evening teaching a private class for a wealthy couple's daughter, a painfully sweet seventeen-year-old who had been determined to learn contemporary dance despite possessing absolutely no sense of rhythm.
Hyunjin had smiled through it.
He always smiled through things.
It was easier that way.
His apartment was only another fifteen minutes away. The neighbourhood was old and cheap compared to the polished centre of Sydney, filled with narrow streets, aging apartment blocks and houses pressed close together behind rusted fences. It was the only place Hyunjin could afford while working as a dance teacher during the day and selling paintings whenever someone was kind—or wealthy—enough to buy them.
His fingers were stained faintly with blue paint.
He had painted that morning.
A girl underwater.
Long black hair floating around her face.
Her mouth open.
No one would have known whether she was singing or drowning.
Hyunjin hadn't known either.
He turned into his street.
And stopped.
At first, he thought someone was arguing.
Then he heard the scream.
It cut through the night.
Hyunjin froze.
Every muscle in his body locked.
The sound came from the alley beside Mr. Wilson's house.
Mr. Wilson was the strange neighbour who lived three doors away. Hyunjin barely knew him. They had exchanged perhaps five words in the six months Hyunjin had lived there.
Hyunjin should have kept walking.
He knew that.
He should have lowered his head, gone home and locked his door.
Instead, curiosity made him take one step closer.
Then another.
The alley was dark.
There was a black SUV parked at the entrance.
Hyunjin saw the body first.
A man was on his knees in the wet gravel.
Blood covered his shirt.
His face was swollen beyond recognition.
Three men stood around him.
A fourth was crouched in front of him.
And then Hyunjin heard the gunshot.
His stomach dropped.
The kneeling man's body jerked.
Hyunjin's breath disappeared.
Another shot.
Then another.
The gunman stood slowly.
Hyunjin could not move.
He couldn't breathe.
The world narrowed.
The dark alley.
The smell of rain.
The blood.
The body falling sideways.
And the man holding the gun.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
Dressed entirely in black.
His head was slightly bowed as if killing someone had been an inconvenience rather than a decision. Blood had splashed across his knuckles.
Then he looked up.
Straight at Hyunjin.
For one suspended second, neither of them moved.
Hyunjin's entire body went cold.
The gunman was beautiful.
That was the first horrifying thought that entered his mind.
Beautiful in the way storms were beautiful.
In the way fire was beautiful when it was far enough away not to burn you.
Dark hair.
Sharp cheekbones.
A strong mouth.
Eyes so dark Hyunjin could barely see where the pupils ended.
The man stared at him.
Hyunjin stared back.
Then survival finally returned.
He ran.
"Get him."
The voice behind him was low.
Calm.
And Hyunjin screamed.
He ran so hard his lungs immediately began to burn. His dance bag slammed against his side. He heard footsteps behind him and panic ripped through him with such force that his vision blurred.
No.
No, no, no.
Not again.
He heard a man shout.
Hyunjin ran faster.
His feet slipped on the wet pavement. He caught himself against a fence and kept moving.
A hand grabbed his arm.
Hyunjin reacted before he could think.
He screamed and fought.
"Don't fucking touch me!"
The man holding him cursed as Hyunjin twisted violently.
"Boss, he's—"
"Let him go."
The hand disappeared.
Hyunjin stumbled backward.
The beautiful man from the alley was standing several feet away.
The others stood behind him.
Hyunjin's heart was trying to escape his chest.
The man still had the gun.
He looked at Hyunjin for a long moment.
Then his gaze dropped.
Hyunjin realized with humiliation that he was shaking.
Not subtly.
Violently.
His hands.
His knees.
His entire body.
"What's your name?" the man asked.
Hyunjin stared at him.
"Please," he whispered.
The man's expression changed slightly.
"What's your name?"
Hyunjin's eyes filled with tears.
"Please don't."
One of the men behind him laughed quietly.
"Boss, we need to handle this."
Hyunjin flinched.
The beautiful man noticed.
Something dark moved across his face.
"He saw us," another man said.
"I know."
"Then we can't—"
"I said I know."
Silence.
Hyunjin knew exactly what they were talking about.
He had seen them.
He had seen the body.
He had seen the gun.
He had seen the man who had pulled the trigger.
His legs weakened.
"I won't tell anyone," Hyunjin whispered quickly. "I swear. I won't say anything. I don't even know you."
The man looked at him.
Hyunjin wished he would stop.
That stare felt like hands.
It moved over his face too slowly.
His wet hair.
His pale throat.
His mouth.
The man took one step forward.
Hyunjin immediately backed away.
"Don't come closer."
The man's jaw tightened.
Hyunjin saw it.
The annoyance.
The surprise.
Perhaps the man wasn't used to people speaking to him like that.
Hyunjin didn't care.
He was terrified.
And terror had always made him either very quiet or very reckless.
"I said don't come closer."
One of the men behind him looked amused.
The gunman's eyes darkened.
Then, slowly, he placed the gun into the waistband of his trousers.
"My name is Christopher."
Hyunjin laughed.
It came out broken.
"Am I supposed to care?"
Christopher stared at him.
"No."
"Then why are you telling me?"
"Because you're coming with me."
Hyunjin went still.
"No."
Christopher's head tilted.
"No?"
"No."
Hyunjin turned.
He made it three steps.
Something sharp pressed against the side of his neck.
Not a knife.
A syringe.
Hyunjin stopped breathing.
Christopher's voice came from behind him.
"I'm sorry."
Hyunjin turned his head.
"You're not."
Christopher's expression was unreadable.
"No," he said quietly.
"I'm not."
The world tilted.
Hyunjin tried to fight.
He did.
He tried so hard.
But his body betrayed him.
The pavement rose toward him.
The last thing he saw before darkness swallowed him was Christopher's face.
And the last thing he heard was his own voice.
Begging.
---
Christopher had killed men for less than what he had seen in Hyunjin's eyes.
Fear.
That was all it was.
Pure, animal fear.
Christopher knew fear well.
He had built an empire out of it.
People feared Christopher Bang across Sydney.
Politicians who pretended they didn't know his name feared him.
Police officers on his payroll feared disappointing him.
Men twice his size lowered their eyes when he entered a room.
Rival gangs had learned that Christopher was merciful only when it amused him.
He had money.
More money than most people would ever understand.
Mansions.
Cars.
Businesses.
Men willing to die for him.
And blood on his hands that would never wash away.
Yet when Hyunjin woke up screaming in one of Christopher's guest rooms, Christopher almost dropped the glass in his hand.
The sound ripped through the mansion.
"No!"
Christopher was already moving.
Hyunjin's door was locked.
Of course it was.
Christopher unlocked it and stepped inside.
Hyunjin was pressed against the far wall of the room.
He had found a lamp.
He was holding it like a weapon.
His long dark hair was wild around his face.
His eyes were huge.
"Don't fucking come near me!"
Christopher stopped.
"Put that down."
"Open the door."
"No."
"Open the fucking door!"
Christopher had been threatened with guns more times than he could count.
For some reason, a thin, furious dance teacher holding a lamp was significantly more frightening.
Christopher crossed his arms.
"No."
Hyunjin looked around desperately.
The room was enormous.
Floor-to-ceiling windows.
Expensive furniture.
A private bathroom.
Fresh clothes on the bed.
It was beautiful.
It was also a prison.
Hyunjin understood that immediately.
"You kidnapped me."
Christopher said nothing.
"You killed someone and kidnapped me."
"You saw something you weren't supposed to see."
"So you're keeping me here?"
"For now."
Hyunjin laughed again.
Christopher hated the sound.
There was no humour in it.
"You're insane."
"I've been called worse."
Hyunjin's eyes narrowed.
Then Christopher made the mistake of stepping closer.
Hyunjin swung the lamp.
Christopher caught it before it connected with his face.
Hyunjin fought him.
For a moment, Christopher simply held the lamp while Hyunjin pulled desperately in the opposite direction.
He was strong.
Stronger than Christopher expected.
But Christopher was bigger.
Much bigger.
The realization seemed to hit Hyunjin too.
His struggle suddenly changed.
Panic.
Christopher's stomach tightened.
Hyunjin let go of the lamp and stumbled backward.
"Don't touch me."
Christopher stopped immediately.
Hyunjin was breathing too fast.
His hands were clenched.
His face had gone pale.
Something was wrong.
Not normal fear.
Christopher had seen enough frightened people to know the difference.
This was something older.
Something buried.
Christopher slowly placed the lamp on the floor.
"I wasn't going to hurt you."
Hyunjin looked at him as if he were stupid.
"You murdered a man in front of me."
Christopher's jaw tightened.
"Fair."
"You think?"
Christopher almost smiled.
He didn't.
Hyunjin would probably throw the lamp again.
"Sit down," Christopher said.
"No."
"Hyunjin."
The name slipped out before Christopher could stop himself.
Hyunjin froze.
Christopher did too.
"You know my name?"
Christopher looked toward the door.
One of his men had searched Hyunjin's wallet.
Hyunjin understood.
"Did you search my things?"
"Yes."
"You—"
"Don't start throwing things again."
Hyunjin's mouth fell open.
Christopher had to look away.
He was beautiful when he was angry.
That was becoming a problem.
Actually, no.
It had been a problem since the alley.
Christopher had seen countless beautiful women and men.
That was objectively true.
Yet he had never seen anyone quite as beautiful as Hyunjin.
Maybe it was the circumstances.
The adrenaline.
The danger.
Hyunjin's frightened face.
His long limbs.
His mouth.
His waist.
Christopher immediately stopped that thought.
Hyunjin noticed his silence.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"What are you looking at?"
"Nothing."
"You're fucking staring at me."
Christopher met his eyes.
Hyunjin's anger seemed to dim for a second.
Christopher knew what he looked like.
He wasn't arrogant.
He was realistic.
People had wanted him for most of his adult life.
They wanted his face.
His body.
His money.
His power.
Hyunjin looked at him differently.
Like Christopher was a monster.
Christopher preferred it that way.
So why did it irritate him?
"You're going to stay here until I decide what to do with you."
Hyunjin stared at him.
“Fuck you.”
Christopher's mouth twitched.
“That’s not unlikely.”
Hyunjin's face changed.
Christopher immediately regretted the joke.
The fear returned.
Christopher's amusement vanished.
“I'm not going to touch you.”
Hyunjin said nothing.
Christopher moved toward the door.
"Food will be brought to you."
"I don't want anything from you."
"You'll eat."
"You can't make me."
Christopher turned.
"Don't test that theory."
Hyunjin glared at him.
Christopher closed the door.
Then stood outside it for several seconds.
"What?" Jisung asked from the hallway.
Christopher looked at him.
"Nothing."
Jisung raised an eyebrow.
"You kidnapped a witness."
"Yes."
"Instead of killing him."
Christopher's expression hardened.
Jisung wisely stopped smiling.
"Boss."
"What?"
"He's very pretty."
Christopher stared.
Jisung held up both hands.
"Just saying."
Christopher walked away.
Jisung followed.
"Are you going to tell me why you broke the most important rule in this organisation?"
"No."
"Because he has pretty eyes?"
Christopher stopped walking.
Jisung stopped too.
For a long second, they stared at each other.
"Go home."
Jisung grinned.
Christopher continued walking.
Behind him, Jisung muttered something that sounded suspiciously like he's fucked.
Christopher ignored him.
He was not fucked.
He was attracted.
That was all.
He had seen a beautiful man.
He wanted him.
Eventually, Christopher reasoned, that feeling would disappear.
Maybe after he got Hyunjin out of his system.
The thought was simple.
Practical.
A physical solution to a physical problem.
Christopher was good at practical solutions.
He did not yet understand that there were some hungers that became worse the more you fed them.
---
Hyunjin didn't sleep.
The mansion was too quiet.
Quiet meant he could hear things.
His breathing.
His heartbeat.
The faint sound of rain against the windows.
And memories.
Always memories.
He sat on the floor beside the bed.
The lamp remained close enough to reach.
His phone was gone.
His wallet was gone.
He had no idea where he was.
He was trapped inside a gangster's house.
Hyunjin pressed both hands against his face.
No.
Not again.
His chest began to tighten.
He knew the feeling.
He hated it.
The room suddenly felt too small.
The air too thin.
He remembered another room.
Another night.
Men laughing.
His own voice disappearing.
The smell of blood.
Mingyu—
Hyunjin squeezed his eyes shut.
No.
Don't.
Don't think about him.
He tried to breathe.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
It didn't work.
The door opened.
Hyunjin screamed and grabbed the lamp.
Christopher stopped.
He was holding a tray.
"I brought food."
Hyunjin stared at him.
Christopher stared back.
Then Christopher slowly placed the tray on a table.
"I'm leaving it there."
Hyunjin didn't move.
Christopher took a step backward.
Hyunjin watched him.
Christopher noticed the fear.
He hated it.
Not because it was inconvenient.
Because he had caused it.
The realization irritated him more.
"I didn't know you were awake."
"I never slept."
Christopher's eyes narrowed.
"Why?"
Hyunjin gave a bitter laugh.
"You're asking why I can't sleep in the house of a murderer?"
Christopher exhaled through his nose.
"Fair again."
Hyunjin stared at him.
"What do you want?"
"Nothing."
"Then leave."
Christopher didn't.
Hyunjin looked at him suspiciously.
Christopher was still dressed in black, though he had removed his jacket. His shirt clung to his shoulders.
Hyunjin hated that his eyes noticed.
Hated that even through fear, some traitorous part of him could acknowledge Christopher was attractive.
Monsters could be beautiful.
Hyunjin knew that now.
"Your phone is safe," Christopher said.
"I want it."
"No."
"My wallet?"
"Safe."
"Give it back."
"No."
"You keep saying no like you're five."
Christopher's mouth twitched.
Hyunjin stared.
Was this man seriously amused?
"You're going to release me."
"Eventually."
Hyunjin's face went cold.
"How long?"
Christopher didn't answer.
Hyunjin looked toward the tray.
Then back at him.
"I don't eat when I'm scared."
Something flickered in Christopher's eyes.
"You're scared of me?"
Hyunjin laughed.
This time there was genuine disbelief in it.
"You murdered someone."
Christopher nodded once.
"Right."
"And your men dragged me here unconscious."
"Also true."
"And you locked me in your room."
"Guest room."
"You're a psychopath."
Christopher leaned against the doorframe.
"Possibly."
Hyunjin stared at him.
Then, unexpectedly, Christopher asked, "Do you dance?"
Hyunjin blinked.
"What?"
"Your bag."
Hyunjin glanced toward the corner.
Christopher had noticed it.
"Yes."
"What kind?"
"Why?"
"I'm asking."
Hyunjin looked at him as if he had grown another head.
"Contemporary. Ballet. Modern."
Christopher nodded.
"And you paint."
Hyunjin's expression hardened.
"You searched my things."
"I already admitted that."
"You had no right."
Christopher's face changed.
Something dangerous returned to it.
"I know."
Hyunjin held his gaze.
For the first time, Christopher looked away first.
That surprised them both.
---
Christopher began avoiding Hyunjin the next morning.
That lasted until lunch.
Then he found himself standing outside the guest room again.
He told himself he was checking on his hostage.
A hostage needed to remain alive.
It was a perfectly reasonable business concern.
Jisung opened the door before Christopher could.
Christopher frowned.
"Why are you here?"
Jisung held up a plate.
"Your hostage won't eat."
"Give it to him."
"I did."
"And?"
Jisung lowered his voice.
"He threw it at me."
Christopher paused.
"Did he?"
"Yes."
Christopher's mouth almost smiled.
Jisung stared.
"Oh, you're gone."
"Fuck off."
Jisung stepped aside.
Christopher entered.
Hyunjin was sitting by the window.
The food was untouched.
He looked exhausted.
Dark shadows sat beneath his eyes.
His long hair fell loosely over his face.
Christopher felt that unwanted pull again.
Hyunjin turned.
"What?"
Christopher closed the door.
Hyunjin immediately stiffened.
Christopher noticed.
He hated that he noticed.
"Eat."
"No."
Christopher crossed his arms.
Hyunjin crossed his.
They stared at each other.
Christopher had negotiated with armed criminals.
He had stared down men who had tortured people for entertainment.
Nothing had prepared him for the stubbornness of Hwang Hyunjin.
"Eat."
"Fuck off."
Christopher walked toward the table.
Hyunjin stood immediately.
Christopher stopped.
There it was again.
The panic.
His body looked ready to fight or flee.
Christopher slowly moved away from the table.
"I won't come near you."
Hyunjin's expression remained suspicious.
"Then why are you here?"
Christopher considered lying.
"I'm checking on you."
"Why?"
Christopher had no answer.
Because Hyunjin was thin.
Because he looked tired.
Because Christopher wanted to know whether he had slept.
Because Christopher wanted to hear him speak.
Because the mansion had felt wrong when Hyunjin was hidden behind a locked door.
None of those answers were acceptable.
"Because you're my responsibility."
Hyunjin's face twisted.
"I don't want to be your responsibility."
Christopher looked at him.
Something inside his chest pulled.
Hard.
"Neither do I."
Hyunjin went quiet.
Christopher turned away first.
"Eat."
He left.
Outside the room, Jisung was waiting.
Christopher looked at him.
Jisung grinned.
"Don't."
"You're in love with your hostage."
Christopher's face became blank.
Jisung's smile faded.
"Right. Too soon."
Christopher walked away.
This time, Jisung didn't follow.
---
Three days passed.
Hyunjin learned the mansion.
Not because Christopher allowed him to leave.
Because Christopher eventually moved him to a larger suite and permitted him access to part of the house under supervision.
Christopher called it a privilege.
Hyunjin called it a different kind of prison.
He hated Christopher.
He repeated that to himself constantly.
He hated the way Christopher looked at him.
He hated the way Christopher's entire mansion seemed to change when Christopher entered a room.
Men fell silent.
Women straightened.
Even the house itself seemed to acknowledge him.
Christopher was power.
He didn't need to announce it.
He wore it in the way he walked.
In the scars on his hands.
In the way everyone else moved around him.
Hyunjin had learned Christopher Bang was one of the most feared men in Sydney.
He owned nightclubs, security companies, restaurants and businesses that were probably legitimate.
Probably.
He also controlled things Hyunjin didn't want to know about.
One evening, Hyunjin wandered into the art room.
He stopped in the doorway.
Paint.
Canvas.
Light.
For the first time since arriving, something inside him loosened.
Christopher found him there an hour later.
Hyunjin was standing in front of a blank canvas.
He hadn't touched it.
He was just looking.
Christopher stood in the doorway.
"You can use it."
Hyunjin didn't turn.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want anything from you."
Christopher's eyes moved over the room.
"I don't paint."
"I didn't ask."
"Then why are you in here?"
Hyunjin finally looked at him.
"Because you let me out of my cage."
Christopher's jaw tightened.
"You're not in a cage."
"Then open the front door."
Silence.
Hyunjin looked back at the canvas.
"Exactly."
Christopher watched him.
Hyunjin's hands were trembling.
Christopher noticed that too.
He was beginning to notice everything.
The way Hyunjin touched the necklace around his throat when anxious.
The way he slept curled tightly on one side.
The way loud male voices made his shoulders tense.
The way he never allowed anyone to stand behind him.
Christopher didn't understand why.
Not yet.
But he was going to.
Hyunjin finally picked up a brush.
Christopher watched the first stroke touch the canvas.
Red.
Then black.
Christopher should have left.
Instead, he stayed.
Minutes passed.
Then an hour.
Neither spoke.
Hyunjin painted.
Christopher watched.
For the first time in his adult life, Christopher Bang stood quietly in a room and did nothing.
No orders.
No threats.
No blood.
Just Hyunjin.
And paint.
Christopher didn't realize he had stepped closer until Hyunjin suddenly froze.
Christopher stopped immediately.
Hyunjin's brush trembled.
Christopher's voice was lower now.
"Sorry."
Hyunjin stared at him.
Christopher took a step back.
"I said I won't touch you."
"Why?"
Christopher frowned.
"Why what?"
"Why do you keep saying that?"
Christopher had no answer.
Because Hyunjin looked like someone who had spent too much of his life having things taken from him.
Christopher didn't know that yet.
He only knew something in Hyunjin's fear made him want to kill whoever had put it there.
Which was absurd.
Christopher was one of the men people feared.
He was the monster.
Hyunjin looked down at his painting.
"Because I don't believe you."
Christopher nodded slowly.
"That's fair."
Hyunjin looked surprised again.
Christopher almost laughed.
"Everything you say is fucking weird."
"So I've heard."
"You're supposed to be terrifying."
Christopher stared at him.
"I killed a man in front of you."
Hyunjin's face fell.
Christopher immediately regretted it.
He had no idea what he was doing.
He could manage a criminal empire.
But this?
Hyunjin?
Christopher felt completely unprepared.
Then a phone rang.
Christopher answered.
Jisung's voice changed everything.
"Boss."
Christopher straightened.
"What?"
"We have a problem."
Hyunjin's brush stopped.
Christopher listened.
His expression went cold.
Hyunjin watched the transformation happen.
The softness—if it had ever been there—disappeared.
Christopher became someone else.
Someone Hyunjin recognized from the alley.
"What happened?"
Christopher asked.
A pause.
Then Christopher's jaw clenched.
"Where?"
Another pause.
His eyes lifted.
Straight to Hyunjin.
Hyunjin felt cold.
Christopher ended the call.
"What?"
Christopher said nothing.
"Christopher."
"Go to your room."
Hyunjin's heart began to race.
"What happened?"
"Hyunjin."
"No."
Christopher moved toward him.
Hyunjin stepped back.
Christopher stopped.
Then spoke more quietly.
"My rivals know about you."
Hyunjin went still.
Christopher's eyes were dark.
Dangerous.
"They know you're here."
Hyunjin stared at him.
"How?"
"I don't know yet."
"What do they want?"
Christopher's silence answered.
Hyunjin felt sick.
Christopher looked at him.
Really looked.
And something in his face changed.
For the first time since the alley, Christopher seemed genuinely afraid.
Not for himself.
For Hyunjin.
Christopher took one slow breath.
Then he said, "You're going to stay with me."
Hyunjin backed away.
"No."
"Hyunjin."
"You kidnapped me!"
"I know."
"You murdered someone!"
"I know."
"You keep saying you know!"
"Because I fucking do!"
Silence crashed between them.
Christopher immediately lowered his voice.
Hyunjin was shaking.
Again.
Christopher's hands curled into fists.
"You're afraid of gangsters."
Hyunjin's eyes snapped to his.
Christopher didn't know how he knew.
Maybe it was instinct.
Maybe it was the way Hyunjin's face changed every time Christopher's men entered a room.
Hyunjin said nothing.
Christopher stepped back.
"Someone hurt you."
Hyunjin's mouth trembled.
Christopher's entire body went still.
"Don't."
His voice was barely audible.
Christopher's eyes darkened.
"Who?"
"Don't."
"Who?"
Hyunjin looked at him with sudden fury.
"Do you think you get to ask me that?"
Christopher said nothing.
"You think because you feed me and let me paint in your stupid fucking mansion that suddenly I owe you my secrets?"
"No."
"Then stop looking at me like that."
Christopher's voice became quiet.
"Like what?"
"Like you're sorry."
Christopher stared at him.
Hyunjin laughed bitterly.
"You're a gangster, Christopher. You're all the same."
The words landed.
Christopher should have been angry.
Instead, something painful twisted in his chest.
"Maybe."
Hyunjin looked away.
Christopher watched him.
Then the security alarm sounded.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Every light in the mansion shifted.
Christopher's head snapped toward the door.
A voice shouted somewhere in the hallway.
"Boss!"
Christopher reached for his gun.
Hyunjin saw it.
And his entire body reacted.
He backed away so quickly he nearly fell.
Christopher stopped.
Hyunjin was staring at the gun.
Not at Christopher.
At the gun.
His face had gone completely white.
Christopher slowly lowered it.
"Hyunjin."
"No."
The word broke.
Christopher's heart slammed painfully against his ribs.
"Look at me."
"No."
"Hyunjin."
"Please."
Christopher froze.
Hyunjin's eyes filled with tears.
"Please don't."
The alarm continued.
Men were shouting.
Somewhere downstairs, glass shattered.
Christopher should have been leaving.
He should have been preparing for war.
Instead, he stood in front of Hyunjin.
And understood one thing with terrible, absolute clarity.
Someone had broken him.
Someone had taken this beautiful, furious man and taught him what fear felt like.
Christopher had spent his life believing he was incapable of weakness.
Then Hyunjin whispered, "Please don't let them touch me."
And Christopher Bang realized he was already lost.
He holstered his gun.
Walked toward Hyunjin slowly.
Hyunjin flinched.
Christopher stopped.
"I won't."
Hyunjin was crying silently now.
Christopher's voice shook with something he refused to name.
"I swear to you."
A gunshot exploded downstairs.
Hyunjin screamed.
Christopher moved before thinking.
He pulled Hyunjin against his chest.
Hyunjin fought him for half a second.
Then froze.
Christopher held him.
Not tightly.
Not like a prison.
Just enough.
Hyunjin's hands clutched the back of Christopher's shirt.
Christopher closed his eyes.
His men could be dying downstairs.
His enemies could be inside his home.
But all Christopher could think was—
Mine.
The thought came so naturally it terrified him.
Hyunjin pulled back.
Christopher let him go immediately.
Their eyes met.
For one dangerous second, Christopher's gaze dropped to Hyunjin's mouth.
Hyunjin noticed.
His breathing changed.
Christopher's did too.
The air between them became something heavy.
Something hot.
Something neither of them was ready to touch.
Then Christopher forced himself to look away.
"Stay behind me."
Hyunjin swallowed.
Christopher drew his gun again.
Hyunjin flinched.
Christopher noticed.
His face hardened.
Not at Hyunjin.
At himself.
At everyone who had ever made Hyunjin afraid.
"I said stay behind me."
Hyunjin stared at him.
Then, slowly, he moved closer.
Not close enough to touch.
But close enough.
Christopher looked over his shoulder.
"Do you trust me?"
Hyunjin's expression was almost angry.
"No."
Christopher nodded once.
"Good."
Hyunjin blinked.
Christopher opened the door.
"Trust me enough to survive the next five minutes."
Then the monster walked into the hallway.
And for the first time since Christopher Bang had stolen him from his old life, Hyunjin followed him willingly.
Not because he trusted him.
Not because he loved him.
Not even because he believed Christopher was good.
But because somewhere between the blood-soaked alley and the quiet art room, Hyunjin had begun to understand something terrifying.
Christopher Bang might be a monster.
But when it came to Hyunjin—
He was beginning to become a monster with something to lose.
And that was far more dangerous than either of them could imagine.
END OF CHAPTER ONE