Ji-hye had been clear from the start.

“I don’t care what you do at school,” she’d said, arms crossed, eyes sharp but honest. “But the Union doesn’t get to touch us. You want me—you separate it.”

Na Baek-jin had nodded without hesitation. He meant it. Losing control of the Union was nothing compared to losing her.

But control was never as absolute as people believed.

Rumors spread fast. Faster when Union members noticed Ji-hye laughing with their enemies—Gotak’s loud voice, Baku’s grin, Si-eun’s quiet presence, Jun-tae walking her home like it was normal.

They didn’t confront Baek-jin. They waited.

That night, Ji-hye realized she was being followed too late.

Footsteps. Echoing. Too many.

She ran.

Hands grabbed. Someone shoved her into a wall. Pain exploded through her side as she hit the ground.

“Don’t get it twisted,” one of them sneered, crouching beside her. “You’re just a piece of meat to him. Don’t act special.”

The world blurred—cuts, bruises, her mouth splitting when she tried to scream. She curled in on herself in an abandoned building, sobbing, eyes squeezed shut, pain ripping through her chest as she cried out into the dark.

“Please—stop—”

The door slammed open later.

“Ji-hye?”

Jun-tae’s voice broke when he saw her.

He didn’t ask questions. He just picked her up, hands shaking, and took her home. Cleaned the blood carefully. Wrapped her wounds like she mattered. Like she was safe.

The next day at school, Baek-jin saw her.

The bruises on her jaw. The bandages. The way she held herself like moving hurt.

He stood up so fast his chair crashed to the floor.

“What happened to you?” he demanded at lunch, voice shaking. “Why didn’t you call me?”

That’s when she snapped.

“Your stupid minions flipped out on me last night!” she cried, tears spilling over. “I can barely talk without my mouth busting open! I don’t want to be involved in this shit—I never wanted this!”

Her hands shook as she wiped her face. “I was scared, Baek-jin.”

Something in him broke.

He pulled her into his arms, holding her carefully, like she’d shatter if he squeezed too hard.

“I didn’t know,” he said hoarsely. “I swear I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. I should’ve protected you.”

She pressed her forehead into his chest, still crying.

And for the first time, Na Baek-jin realized the Union hadn’t just crossed a line.

They’d made an enemy out of him.