037

Y/N

Silence.

My fingers still buried deep inside, trembling from overstimulation and exhaustion.

Beep.

"Go down the garage and get in the garbage truck, in 15 minutes."

The massage bright on the screen-I can't hold back my sob.

what I just did-? what I put myself through? I sacrificed my everything for this?

I lower my legs on the floor, each movement feeling heavy—wrong. I sob—tears flowing down my cheeks,

Slowly pull my hand free—-the slick sound echoing my ears-—Lucas breathing peacefully in his crib, unaware of the danger im in.

Tears streaming down, My body trembles- still reeling from the intensity and shame I just did.

The wetness between my legs still damp.The shame , exhaustion heavy-the dampness of the bedsheet clinging to me— I force myself up—wipe my tears quickly.

The red light still glows-taunting-but if Mr. Park has sent that message, then Jeon must not be watching me right now.

This is my only chance!

I take a deep breath—compose myself. I can't afford to break down now-With trembling hands, I hastily fix my clothes, I have to act fast...

The phone screen still glows with Uncle Park's message:"Go down the garage get in the garbage truck"

I have one chance- just one-—to escape before everything falls apart.

My heart pounds.

This isn't surrender.

This is war.

I grab the essential files from my bag-nothing else, no clothes, nothing that slows me down. My hands shake, I shove them into a small pouch and secure it to my waist.

But then—

Lucas.

He is still sleeping in his crib- lips parted slightly, chest rising and falling peacefully. He looks so innocent... so safe here...

And yet...

My heart aches. This isn't just about escaping anymore-that's only half of it now.The other half? Protecting him at all costs.

But i can't stay-—My fingers hover on the crib, trembling— I watch  his sleeping form-

He became my everything here.

And leaving him here...? It feels like ripping my own heart out.

But if I stay...

If I don't go now...

Then I'll never know my freedom.

He stirs slightly in sleep before settling back down once more-and something deep inside me breaks, watching them turn him into a monster like Jeon wants to make him become...

So even though every part of me screams "Take him and run!" But logic wins: he has a better chance surviving here than with me on the run. They won't hurt their own bloodline... not yet. Not when they still need leverage over me.

I press one last kiss on his forehead-the soft scent of milk and innocence clinging to his skin "Be strong for Mommy."I stroke Lucas's soft cheek one last time,"I'm so sorry, baby... Mama has no choice."

Then force myself back-—away from that crib before grief paralyzes me completely-

Tears blur my vision-falling onto his blanket like raindrops- "Please..please forgive me."

I gulp- with a sharp inhale, I pull on the hoodie and yank it over my head-concealing every trace of me beneath the dark fabric— before anyone can spot my movement through hidden cameras or guards patrolling nearby corridors...

One final glance at the crib.One single tear sliding down past my lips—I click the door open— slip out silently into the dim hallway-cold air hitting my face like ice- i begin walking fast but not running yet because it'd drawing attention would be fatal right now...

Heavy scent of garlic and simmering broth drifting from kitchens and mixing with gun oil.

But even as footsteps echo in distant halls and cameras scan corners, my heart stays back there with him:my baby boy, sleeping safe.

The hallway is strangely quiet.

I tread stealthily down the hall, the faint sound of dishes and hushed voices filtering through doors, signifying the lunch hour, and guards stationed at the end of the corridor. Others loitering around but too focused on their phones to notice my silent movements.

But I have no choice but to chance it.

The path to the garage has to be there.

I step carefully down the winding staircase, heart hammering— I try to move quickly but cautiously- just fast enough to avoid notice yet quiet enough not to attract attention.

I make my way down the stairs to the living room with the stealth of a feline, every muscle coiled with focus, heart rate steady despite the tension.

The path to the garage lies straight ahead-a narrow stairwell leading down...

I just have to get there...

Get away from all this... before it's too late.

I'm almost there-the garage—my salvation-but—-Two guards approach, talking—-I dart to the end of the hall and hide behind a pillar, heart racing like a drum.

"Boss is coming tomorrow." One says.

"Yeah, fuck... this double duty is wearing me out."

They talk about Jeon's arrival tomorrow—they don't noticing me and walk right by, too focused on their own conversation.

I hold my breath—frozen in place. The sound of their footsteps echo through the corridor as they pass by.

But if I wait here for too long, I could get caught.

I have to keep going...

I peek out-the path is clear. This or nothing.

I bolt—as fast as I can—-lungs, heart and legs screaming from adrenaline-

My feet move before my mind can stop.

This or nothing.

Now or never.

Run like hell is chasing you... because it is.

I run down the hidden path, tears blurring my vision but legs pumping faster, breath coming in sharp gasps— I skid into the massive garage-the cold concrete floor biting through thin shoes while shadows swallow me whole...

Finally.

Safe.

For now at least.

I gasp—heart pounding hard, it feels like it's about to burst through throat.

I lean against a wall, taking a moment to recover  "Fuck-" my lungs burning from sprinting through the halls.

I breath—sweat dripping from my forehead.

The garage is dark-only the dim lights at the exit door illuminating the space. There multiple guards are stationed.

I check Uncle Park's final message one last time-

"Garbage truck. Now."

But this place is a temple of  every luxury- vehicles. They polished in perfection like they belong to some elite auto show instead of an underground mafia hideout.

No way does a garbage truck just... exist here.

I scan the room, looking for the garbage truck—between the expensive, well-kept cars in the space.

Where is it?

All the cars are expensive luxury vehicles- Until- there at the far end-almost touching that heavily guarded exit— where guards patrol with guns and rifles slung over shoulders, eyes sharp enough to spot movement even in shadows...

There it is.A beat-up, rusted-out old van with "Clean & Green Waste Management" painted crookedly on its side-the kind no one would look twice at unless looking for trouble themselves...

I take breath-pull my hoodie tight and sneakily walk without a sound.

The guards are too close to the car- but i have to make it there.

I dart silently closer, heart pounding hard-the stench of rotting waste filling my nostrils.

I reach the garbage truck, slipping behind it just in time, sinking down into the shadows.

They didn't notice me get in—The stench of rotten food and damp cardboard hitting like a wall-strong, suffocating- but I don't flinch.

This smell? This filth?

It's nothing compared to the hell I've just escaped.

I curl tighter behind the trash cans, keep my body small and still. My black hoodie blends with shadows—dust swirls through cracked windows above.

I hold my breath-not wanting to take even one breath of that pungent stench and hide behind the cans, crouching low to keep out of sight.

In few seconds-The engine grumbles to life.

Then... a movement.

Please noone look too closely.

The guards step forward-one hand on his belt radio-and scan past—

"Clear," he mutters into comms before turning away without glancing twice at this "Clean & Green Waste Management." No one expects escape here.

The vehicle slowly creeps forward—then past the guards.

I hold my breath. They stare intently at the open exit ahead, watching for any sort of trouble that might arise.

No one expects defiance dressed as garbage collection on Jeon's property...

But they should have known better than underestimate someone fighting not just for survival...

but for freedom.

With every inch forward-the van creeping out from the iron-walled gate toward daylight beyond-

My heart doesn't race anymore...

it burns.

The truck steps out—- past the guards- past his villa—it takes speed.

And we're out.

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