The cold Seoul night seeped through the walls of Mujin's lavish office as you stood facing him, arms crossed, heart racing. The tension had been building for weeks. Late-night phone calls he wouldn't explain. That familiar gut feeling something wasn’t right.

You slammed the folder of evidence on his desk. “Don’t lie to me again. I know what you’ve been doing.”

Mujin didn’t flinch. His calm exterior cracked only slightly, a twitch at the corner of his mouth. “You think you understand everything, but you don’t."

“You promised no more lies. And yet here we are.” you snapped

He stepped closer, eyes dark and unreadable. “Be careful with your tone.”

You met his gaze, refusing to back down. “Or what? You’ll hit me like you always do?”

And in one swift moment—like a reflex—his hand came across your cheek. The sting bloomed instantly, heat and shock flooding your face. Silence. Time froze for a moment. You blinked, stunned, heart pounding.

His face shifted quickly—regret, disbelief, confusion. He reached for you, voice soft, almost soothing. “I didn’t mean to. You pushed me—God, you know I’d never hurt you on purpose.”

You stepped back, the air between you now jagged and cold.

“That wasn’t an accident,” you whispered, voice cracking.

“It was the heat of the moment,” Mujin insisted. “You were yelling,… I lost control. Just for a second.” His voice dropped to a near whisper. “You know me. You know I love you. You’re the only person who sees me for who I really am.”

Your eyes burned. “Do I?”

He cupped your unbruised cheek gently, his voice dripping with manufactured tenderness. “I'm sorry okay?. Don’t let one mistake ruin what we have.”

He always did this. But it was always working on you