030

JEON

The cabin has fresh scent of leather and wood. The interior—everything is clean, pristine, untouched.

I settle onto my comfy seat that has been custom made specifically for me. The leather feels soft- supple under my fingers. The seat is roomy and comfortable, and can stretch legs out as far as possible and still have more room to spare.

The seat even has a small built-in control panel with buttons to adjust the seat's settings and options to communicate with the pilot—

"This is your captain speaking, this flight is about to take off in 15 minutes"The cabin hums low as the captain’s voice fades.

I lean back—seat- black, custom-stitched with a tiny gold J hidden in the headrest. Same as all my jets. Same as my guns. Same as her goddamn wedding ring.

Fifty million just to keep this bird flying.

Money’s blood.And blood?

It buys silence, speed… and time.

Sunlight slices through the window—bright, sharp—hitting my eyes like a blade. I close them slow.

Across from me, Wooshik’s passed out cold on one couch after surviving his bad stomach ache for 2 days, mouth open like he died mid-complaint.

Minho sits upright—alert—but scrolling through surveillance feeds on his tablet: Good boy.

I didn’t want to leave.Not now.Not when she’s carrying my child and that bastard Park is sniffing around like rotted meat…

But France?It doesn’t wait.And neither does empire-building.

Two days.That’s all it’ll take to crush them—to walk into their fortress of arrogance and make them kneel before handing over every key, every ledger… every weapon.

But still—my fingers tap restlessly against the armrest,rhythm uneven,pulse louder than engine roar:

Is she still asleep?

Did Lucas eat?

Is there anyone near her who shouldn't be?

My watch buzzes silently against my wrist —live feed from bedroom cam flashes: i click- There she is…..sleeping. pale skin glowing under soft light,hair fanned across our bed,hand unconsciously resting on her stomach—

our child moving beneath those fingers even now?

A knot tightens in my chest so deep it almost hurts to breathe.

“Boss?” Minho whispers carefully “You good?”

I don’t answer. Just watch until she shifts slightly—murmurs something too quiet for to pickup—and curls tighter into herself like cold or fear crept in even here…

Even surrounded by walls built for war…

“Turn on audio” I say quietly “and patch it to these.”

I toss him earbuds without looking.

He hesitates only half a second before connecting and give it to me—from thousands of miles away, her breath comes through clear:

soft…warm…alive…

Finally, I lean back again and close my eyes—not sleeping—but guarding anyway from afar, through wires and waves and wings cutting sky, because no ocean will keep me from what's mine...

Not while I’m still breathing.

And when France falls?

They won't just know they lost territory—they’ll know exactly who took it…

JEON.

____________________________________

Plane is buzzing with life. Crew walking back and forth. Preparing for departure. Wooshik and Minho whispers beside my seat.

"I..don't mean to question boss but-I thought he trusts her-"

"Not about trust" Minho snaps "It's.. precaution."

"Then... why the cameras.."

I sigh- they are way too loud.

"To keep every damn thing in control." Minho mumbles

"He scared for her?—"

"I'm protecting my son" My hands clenching into fist "and now my other child" I don't turn, keep my eyes close.

Wooshik groans loudly, they shut their mouth completely.

"Good afternoon, sir."

I turn slowly—gold cufflinks glinting as a Young. Polished smile. Uniform fitted just right to please the eye.

“Sir, would you like to order anything?” she asks, clipboard clutched like a shield.

“No” I say, flat. Final.I don't eat or don't drink during my flights.

A pause.

Then—

“Sir… anything to drink?”

My jaw tightens—but I stay still. The vein at my temple pulses low and steady…Without turning “No.”

She doesn’t leave—

“Sir, we have options for alcohol as well.” Too sweet now—like honey poured over wire traps “Champagne? Whiskey? Maybe something smooth for the flight?”

I exhale through my nose and finally tilt my head toward her—slowly—Her smile falters—eyes widening at the sight of my face.

Cold.Unforgiving.

“You see that man,” I nod toward Minho without looking away from her “the one watching every move you make since you walked in?”

She blinks—he’s staring straight ahead now but yes—he saw everything.

“That’s one of mine” I lean forward half an inch— “Now tell me…Why are you, who knows nothing about me—who has no clearance code or security chip under your skin—are still standing here… after I said no... twice?”

Her breath hitches.The clipboard wobbles.Her perfectly rehearsed smile cracks at the edge—

“I-I just wanted t-to offer s-service…”

Wooshik snorts “Oh please, boss only drinks poisons”

I glance at him.

He gulps—eyes widening like a dog remembering his leash—and stammers fast “I-I mean… whiskey! Uh. Yeah. Whiskey. Definitely whiskey…” He ducks his head.

The airhostess still stands there—too long now—her smile twitching back as if she thinks this is some game of charm.

“So… whiskey, sir?” she asks again—

Slowly…I turn toward her.

Her flirty blink, lashes fluttering like moths flying into flame.

A beat. Silent. Deadly serious

Just stillness. The kind that makes men piss themselves in interrogation rooms before I even lift a hand.

I reach inside my suit jacket—not for wallet or phone— take my revolver, and place it gently on the desk.

She flinches hard.

The black barrel gleaming under cabin light.

Her Eyes lock it—trembling start in her fingers—she’s scurries and vanishes back into the service cabin so fast the door slaps shut behind her with echo and fear woven together.

Good. Bloody slut.

I lean back—

Open another file on France,sip water laced with electrolytes (no alcohol—)

Because it doesn't matter how many pretty faces try to speak—

all this luxury, this silence,

this bloodied peace...is mine.

Finally.

Silence. Just the steady drone of engines, the gentle hum of silence.

I sigh, try not to imagine her still curled beneath sheets. The jet gains height.

I don't know what my little lawyer is doing now.

The jet climbs.

Engines hum like caged beasts.

Clouds swallow the sky in thick, blinding white.

Sunlight glares through the window… I yank the shutter down.Darkness settles—soft, quiet… but not peace.

Because all I see behind my closed eyes is her—lips slightly parted as she sleeps,fingers curled over her stomach where our child grows. Lucas babbling at her like she’s the only sun he knows…

And me?

Leaving without a word. When i was leaving she was asleep. So I couldn't even say goodbye properly—Not even one last touch or a kiss.

Kiss? I scoff under breath—Since when did i beg for affection?

But then why does it ache?

I exhale- Minho and Wooshik shuffle cards behind me—quiet laughter muffled by fear still lingering from earlier. They’re playing some dumb game with poker chips and fake bravado. Let them play soldier for now.

My hand drifts to my inner pocket—not for gun this time—but for phone.

One tap.Screen lights up in the dim cabin:

Live feed — Bedroom Cam #1

There she is again…

Still asleep?Breathing slow.Peaceful.Unaware that half an ocean is growing between us with every second of flight...

I zoom in slightly—her chest rising… falling… that hand still resting low on her belly like she guards it even unconscious—

A notification flashes beneath: "Heartbeat Detected – Fetal Pulse Confirmed (3 Weeks)"

My thumb hovers over it— something primal shifts inside. I close the app fast. Pocket the phone deep again.

Lean back into leather shadow—with revolver on table—

I sigh  "...Wait for me."

_______________________________

The jet cuts through time zones like a knife…

3:07 PM.

I glance at my watch again—like the seconds mean something more than just time passing.

By now she should be up.

Maybe feeding Lucas. Or Playing with him? Or maybe she’s pacing the nursery again, humming some soft song under breath—Hell.

Im really whipped.

Or maybe she is watching TV?

No. Too fake, She doesn't even turn at that damn thing.

Except sulking for the entire day—arms crossed, lips pressed thin, glaring at walls like they owe her freedom—

Like I stole something from her…

When all I did was make her queen.

Like what the hell is her problem? why the hell she sulks?I've given her everything a woman could possibly want—an empire, a son,

Palace in Seoul. Villa in Sardinia. Private jets on standby if she wanted sky. Clothes flown from Paris before they hit stores. Jewels worth kingdoms around wrists—Servants bow when she walks past. Men die if they look too long. The underworld kneels—not for me anymore—but for her shadow alone....still she never smiles back at me.still....She still wants to leave?

Still she fights this like it's a prison sentence!

Like I'm some monster chaining her.

I sigh- close my eyes—

A muscle twitches near my jaw- press my fingers hard against temple—the headache flares sharper now beneath pressure of truth:

You are one...

You locked her here. Took choice away...

Because you feared losing power…

Because you couldn't bear losing her.

I gulp- "then is it so wrong... to want someone who looks into your soul and doesn't run?"— "To have someone stand beside you—not because of fear or money—but..."

Breathe.

"..Because they see every dark thing inside you..."

Another pause—  "...and stay anyway."

“Boss…”

I sigh-

She hates you.She’ll never love you.The child won’t change anything.

My fists clench beside.

Yeah… maybe its all true yesterday.

But not today.

Not after seeing two pink lines burn through every lie we both told ourselves:

We weren't just playing master and captive anymore...

We were building family—with fire and chains—and now there's no going back,

even if every part of us resists what we truly need—

Wooshik's laughter reaches me through the silence... fuck—

Then Minho: "Boss, you look like you're gonna punch someone—Want a drink?"

I glance at my watch again.

She is awake now?

Little lawyer with sleep-tousled hair and tired eyes that still flash like storm clouds when she sees me. 

4:02 PM.

The jet levels out—steady hum beneath the floor.

I lean— the soft leather soothe my burning skin, fingers brushing the cool screen of my phone.

Security app opens with a thumbprint—one tap.

Camera One: Her room.

My heart sinks—she is still asleep!

Exactly as I left her—curled into the sheets, one arm draped over her stomach, breath slow and even… but too still.

My heart? It doesn’t beat.It slams—once hard against my ribs.

Why is she still sleeping?

She never sleeps this late. Sunlight cuts through the blackout blinds ,it does thin golden lines across the mattress…Something's wrong.

Shouldn't she be up by now?Is she sick?

Did something happen after I left?

My finger hovers over another camera feed—the nursery cam— no, not yet.

"Minho." My voice slices through cabin quiet— He stops shuffling cards mid-deal—

"Get me Dr. Yoon on satellite line now."

"Boss—"

"Now. And patch him directly into encrypted channel five."

Wooshik shuts up fast—As Minho works silently with earpiece buzzing codes into motion,

I don't look away from the screen—

just watch… wait…

I take out the number and call the maid who's duty with her 24/7.The rings goes- Then she picks up.

"Yes boss."

"Why she is still sleeping?"

The pause on the other end.

"Um.. boss After you left…" She hesitates. Her voice comes through  quieter— "she said she wasn't feeling well. She wanted to rest…"

"And you're telling me now?"I stand.

Everyone looks at me.

"Boss, please sit down—" Minho says.

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

Silence hangs on the other end —

I take a deep breath."Where's Lucas?" I ask.

"L-Lucas is with me..." the maid answers. "We are in the living room. He's playing here."

I close my eyes- exhale. "Now go upstairs in her room and tell her that Lucas wants to feed."

"But boss she—"

"JUST DO WHAT I SAID."

"O-okay boss."

I hang up.

Silence—only the hum of the jet.

My chest tightens—heart racing like it wants to run to her.

I turn at Minho "The doctor?"

"On standby, boss—"

"Keep him there"

He hesitates—but I don't care.

I stab at the phone—back to Camera One.

She’s still there. On her side.

Eyes closed.Face relaxed like nothing in the world is wrong.

Sweat slips down my temple, cold despite the heat crawling under my skin—I yank open two buttons of my shirt—I lean forward, knuckles white against the armrest.

The AC does nothing.

Nothing cools this fire inside—Fuck- get up, get up—

My thumb switch on the audio feed from her room—

The maid’s voice cuts through quiet:“Mrs. Jeon!" Knock knock  "Mrs. Jeon…”

Light taps on the door. Polite. Careful.

No movement on screen.

I hold my breath—watching for a twitch, a shift—a single eyelash flutter—anything.

Knock!

"Mrs.Jeon'- Lucas wants to feed," she calls softly through the door “he's asking for you…”

Still nothing.

Fuck—

I stand—revolver clinking faintly against my thigh—

“Why isn’t she waking?” My voice low, jagged “She doesn't sleep this long—not even when exhausted.”

Everyone silent—knows better than to speak now.

I switch cameras—hall cam outside bedroom:

There stands the maid—holding Lucas in hand, who tugs gently toward his mother’s door, tiny fingers pointing, face full of need and trust only for her.

Knock!!

Knock!!

Still no sound comes from behind that door. No rustle of sheets. No footsteps. Not even breathing visible on camera angle.

look at me—even if it's just once—

I grip phone tight, screen cracks slightly along edge—

My heart races- please- get up y/n

"Mrs.Jeon Lucas is hungry!"Knock!  knock!

She is still, unmoving.

My eyes sting.

"Mrs. Jeon!" Knock!

Knock!!

knock!!

"Mrs.Jeon, open the door"Another knock, another knock, another knock.

Come on—move.

She doesn't.

She's still, so still like—

I move to the flight's cabin area—head straight inside the cockpit to retur—

"Mrs. Jeon—"

She opens her eyes. I freeze-

Then she slowly sits up—then stretches. One arm.

Then other.

I clench my jaw tight—She rubs eyes, blinks at the light, looks around like a stranger in a familiar place. She's okay but still something doesn't feel right. The maid is still there with Lucas at the door—

"Yes... I'm coming." She says, voice Soft.Weak.

She slowly stands, bare feet pressing into the marble floor.Wearing that thin nightgown—white, slipping off one shoulder like she doesn’t care who sees.

She walks to the door.Then-Opens it.

There—maid standing with Lucas in her arms.

She takes him slow… gently… as she pulls him close- He nuzzles into her neck without a sound—as if he knows, where the safety lives.

Sigh.

I close my eyes —

"Boss…"

I look up—the pilots are staring at me.And im in the middle of the cockpit.Fuck- They all watching me weirdly—

"Boss... you need something?" One asks

I clear my throat sharply—"N-o—" my voice cracks on the word—"No!"

They nod fast. Look away instantly like Good dogs.

I turn and walk back down the cabin aisle—the hum of jet loud again in my ears—heavy eyes everywhere—from Minho pretending not to see,Wooshik suddenly very busy with cards he can't read.

I slump back into leather throne seat near closed window—

Lean head back.close my eyes.Heart still races too fast too tight around something nameless—

A vibration pulses softly against thigh—phone alive again:

Feed Update – Live Audio Enabled.Her voice comes low through earpiece"...Shh… Mama's here... hungry boy..."

Mama!

Lucas giggles—a wet sound mixed with sleepy joy—as she begins rocking him quietly by bedroom window light pouring gold over skin paler than usual...

"Um Boss- the doctor—" Minho says.

I take a breath "K-Keep him on line"

"Boss?" Wooshik's voice cuts through the silence— "is everything alright?"

I don’t look at him—Throat dry as ash.

"Or-order a drink for me" I say—voice low, rough.

“Yes. Boss.” He scrambles fast.

Fuck! What i was even thinking—my eyes are locked on the screen.

She’s sitting—back propped against the headboard, one arm curled gently around Lucas who wants to feed with quiet urgency, lips moving in rhythm.

Her nightgown pulled down.Both breasts bare.Pale skin glowing in soft light.Nipples flushed pink.Milk leaking at the edge of one.she cradles him—as usual.

My child is fed from her body—the same body that carries my second.

A burn roars deep in my gut.

Lucas lets out tiny burps—he’s full now—and nuzzles against her chest with sleepy contentment.

She hums—a faint melody—I don’t recognize it—but something ancient.

The maid still standing there, eyes respectfully down but still present, holding a towel for what?

Why tf is she still there?

Whiskey bottle places in front.

I grab it—no glass, no ritual—and down it straight from the bottle.

Burns. Good.At least something feels real.

I tap the intercom call—

It rings once. Twice—

She picks up "Y-yes boss?"

"Get the hell out of the room"

"O-okay boss…"

Click. Call Cut.

Back to camera one—live feed pulses on screen. The maid turns fast and steps out the door—Door shuts behind.

Silence.

And there she is now—alone, in soft light, with our son still nuzzling at her breasts.She looking confused—eyes at the door like she's wondering where the maid went.

I lean back.

"Boss—Dr.yoon-" Minho hands me the phone.

Dr. Yoon's voice comes—"Sir?"

"...Tell me...what does excessive fatigue mean at three weeks?"

A pause —then calm reply: "Normal progression, sir… especially given genetic predisposition markers we discussed."

"Any complications?" I ask low "If anything threatens them..."

"There isn't" he says quickly "Everything progresses perfectly so far."

Perfectly...

But perfect isn’t good enough for me—not when it comes to her, not when our child beats life beneath skin that once feared touching mine would burn itself off..

"...Keep monitoring in every five minutes and Send alerts only to my device—even if breathing patterns change.”

“Yes sir.”

My eyes stay glued....she exhales slow— leans back in pillows again, shoulders relaxing.

Her hand moves gently behind Lucas’s tiny head—patting slow circles as he gurgles around her nipple—milk flows more freely by those medications.

Lucas messes with the extra milk caught at corner of his mouth with soft cooing noises.

He looks at her—with wide wet eyes full of love. she smiles back, faint but real.

I sigh—just him and you, little lawyer?

She's patting Lucas—still suckling, still gulping, playing—she looks up. Her eyes stops- Straight at the lens. Like she sees me.Like she knows I’m here—She swallows—her throat bobs—soft flush coloring her pale skin.

Then slowly—she pulls the duvet up. Over her chest. Hiding herself. Hiding him. Hiding what's mine from my own eyes. My jaw clench—cracked screen bites in my palm—

And all i want to smash this satellite feed, tear open that fucking door and rip that blanket off with my teeth…

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