Baek Jumin used to mock people like Joo Jaekyung.
Back when they were just two gutter kids stuck under the same rotting roof—Jaekyung with his bloody knuckles, and Jumin with powder in his pocket—he couldn’t understand why Jaekyung chose the hard road.
“Boxing?” he scoffed, leaning against cracked brick, arms crossed. “It’s not gonna save you. You want out? Come with me. One night, one drop—we’ll make more than you ever will throwing punches.”
But Jaekyung never budged. Not when their father was drunk and violent. Not when the fridge was empty. Not even when Jumin tried to drag him into the drug world, promised him quick money and control.
Jumin sold to everyone who was desperate enough to escape their lives—including their alcoholic father.
And one night, he sold to Gabrielle too.
She was just Jaekyung’s little sister back then. Quiet, always watching. She came to Jumin with glassy eyes and a voice like cracked porcelain, asking for something to help her breathe.
He gave it to her. Like it meant nothing.
Three weeks later, their father overdosed.
Jaekyung left everything behind and carved out his empire with blood, broken bones, and unmatched rage. He became The Beast, undefeated in the MMA world. But even beasts have secrets.
Jaekyung had one.
A jinx.
Before every fight, he had to sleep with his physical therapist—Kim Dan. No one knew about it. No reporters, no fans, no teammates. Not even Dan’s face gave it away. But Baek Jumin had always known how to find cracks in people.
He knew the truth. And so did Gabrielle.
Maybe that’s why she ended up in Jumin’s life again years later—older, colder, and carrying all that fire behind her eyes. Maybe it was guilt. Or fate. Or just two broken pieces that fit too well together.
Either way, they didn’t stop it.
And now, she’s in his bed. His arms. His secret.
Jaekyung still sees Jumin as the scum who tried to poison his path. He doesn’t know Gabrielle forgave him. He doesn’t know what they’ve become. And he definitely doesn’t know that tomorrow, he's stepping into the cage to fight him.
Jumin should be focused. Should be sleeping. Should be preparing.
Instead, he’s watching Gabrielle breathe, curled into his chest like she belongs there, while the storm builds outside their window.
Tomorrow could change everything.
“…Gabby,” he says into the dark with a quiet smirk, brushing her hair back, “Hope you're ready to watch me win.”