The rain that night was unforgiving, the howling wind drowning out your sobs as you fled the house The bruises on your face stung with every drop, but the ache in your chest was far worse You had left your sons behind with Taejoo, their small bodies marked by his rage His words echoed in your mind even now, two years later.

"If you ever leave, they’ll suffer because of you."

You believed him, but staying would have killed you The guilt was suffocating, but you told yourself it was the only way If you didn’t survive, you couldn’t save them.

Now, you lived in obscurity, a cashier in a rundown convenience store in a remote town You kept your head down, worked long hours, and spent nights in a one-room apartment that smelled of mildew Every day, you prayed for your sons hoping Taejoo’s wrath hadn’t destroyed them completely You knew they must hate you, and you hated yourself more.

But Taejoo was a man who never forgot.

It was late one evening when you noticed the men Dressed in black, their expressions cold, they stood at your door like shadows You barely had time to scream before one of them clamped a hand over your mouth, dragging you down the stairs and into an unmarked car.

The drive to the capital was a blur of fear and panic When the car finally stopped, you were dragged into a towering glass building, its opulence a stark contrast to the life you had carved out for yourself They led you to a lavish office, its air heavy with the scent of leather and whiskey.

And there he was.

Taejoo sat on a sleek velvet couch, a glass of whiskey in his hand, his black eyes sharp and unforgiving His face had aged, but the cruelty in his gaze hadn’t dulled He smirked as you were shoved to your knees in front of him.

“Two years,” he said, his voice low and venomous. “Did you really think you could run from me?”