040

JEON

"WAAAHHHH— WAAAAAH—!"

The sound claws through the penthouse like a siren, his tiny face is red with exertion, fists balled up as he wails in midnight air.

"Shhh. Shhhh—" Wooshik bounces him awkwardly, murmuring rough reassurances that do nothing to quiet him.

Pathetic.

The balcony railing hard beneath my fingers, city sprawled beneath—dark as bloodstains on black satin. Everyone in this godforsaken town is asleep right now…Except my son.

And her? Wherever she’s hiding from me.

Lucas’s cries escalate into hiccuping shrieks—the kind that come from deep hunger or pain or fear—"WAAAAH! —WAAAHHHH-—”

But I don't move from where I stand, silhouetted against skyline lights flickering like false stars above concrete wasteland below us both... watching... waiting…

His favorite stuffed bears—lying abandoned near the fireplace.

Her scent still clinging to the couch where she must have sat just hours ago, humming lullabies into his hair before vanishing like smoke.

And now? Now all that’s left is this mockery of normalcy: now Jisun, bouncing my son with false cheer as if rattles and plush dinosaurs could replace what’s been stolen from him—from me.

"Look at this toy, Luca! See?" Jisun shakes a goddamn kaleidoscope in front of his tear-streaked face.

My jaw locks hard—as if colors could make up for her absence.

Outside these walls—My men have turned the city inside out for ten fucking hours—scouring alleys and brothels and every black-site warehouse we own without finding so much as a single strand of her hair, And yet… nothing but silence stretches back at us from every corner...

Meanwhile this city dares sleep peacefully—except my boy.

She didn't just take herself away.

She took his peace too.

And that?—That is something I can't forgive.

______________________________________

EIGHT HOURS PASSED:

City stretches below me—endless and indifferent. Neon signs flicker like dying stars. Somewhere in these streets, she's hiding. And my son wails for his mother who isn't here.

Lucas' cries cut deeper than any blade ever could.

Waaahhh—waaahhh—

I don't turn around— knuckles bleach white against the railing.Run all you want, jagiya, We both know you won’t make it far.

"Boss—" Wooshik's voice tense behind, Lucas still screaming in his arms. "He won't stop, i think he needs—"

"I know what he needs."The words come out colder than I intend.

My loyal soldier looking helpless holding an infant, and that tiny red-faced boy crying echo through penthouse halls.

His little fists clench and unclench with each gasping sob. Eyes screwed shut tight like even seeing this world hurts him. A perfect mirror of his father's rage when denied what belongs to him—

And she—She escaped.Manipulated me with her body, By her core.

WAAAAH WAAAAH WAAAHHHH—

I close my eyes.

Waaahhh—waaahhh— Each wail is a jagged thing, tearing the walls, and my skull.

Jisun hushes him again.

I can still see his face in mind: red, tear-streaked, fists clenched tight like he's physically fighting some unseen enemy.

He is fighting.Not flesh and blood, but the absence of her touch...

Today or tomorrow I'll find you then—You have no idea what you brought on yourself.

Silence stretches with each hour.

A single drop of sweat falls from my temple, Wooshik bounces Lucas, who's screaming nonstop. The grandfather clock ticks louder than gunfire in silence— Lucas pauses to gasp for breath.

Tick. Tock.

I don't turn from the window. My reflection in glass shows on Seoul's midnight skyline.

"Bring him here."

Wooshik hesitates- but then warmth of Lucas' tiny body presses against my shirt, instantly it damp with tears and snot.

His cries- hiccups silent for one fragile moment as my familiar arms around him.

Dark eyes blink up at me - swimming with confusion and hurt so deep it cracks something behind my ribs.

Then his face crumples again. "Ma...mah...mah"—

Not mama. Only daddy.

a broken whimper before another wail builds—i brush his cheekbone exactly where his dimples forced to smile for me, tiny fingers clutch my Rolex like lifeline, grounding him back to this world where mothers disappear but fathers remain...

WAAAHHHH WAAAHHH WAAAAAH—

Jisun makes a wounded noise by the liquor cabinet.

City lights blur beyond the glass as Lucas' breathing evens out against my shoulder, exhausted from grief as neither of us can name aloud.

______________________________________

[12 Hours Missing]

House smells like fear and formula milk when Minho arrives at 3:17AM reeking of gunpowder and Chanel No.5 - her signature scent clinging everywhere like an accusation.

Everyone avoids looking at the sleeping child curled against my chest.

Knuckles crack before I can stop them. Lucas stirs but doesn't wake, I transfer him to Jisun's waiting arms.

TWO DAYS EARLIER: Her lips trembled—I cornered her by the elevator. Her breath hitched exactly three times before submission. She knew what would happen if she ran...

Yet here we are.!

A loud whine.Lucas's tiny fists clench against Jison's shirt, face red with exertion as another wail builds—he pats his back—His lips juts out.

My reflection shows too much in bulletproof desk—the empire holding his heir like an unexploded grenade.Black eyes tracking invisible threats beyond these walls, And somewhere out there— A woman who'll learn what happens, When you steal from Jeon.

The door bangs open."Boss—" Minho pants "The guards said no car left that morning."

"But Mrs.Jeon left…shh shh" Jisun bounces Lucas, frustration clear in his eyes. "But how did she leave then?"

Minho nods "Yeah.... The guards said just the patrolling cars and the trash truck left"

Trash truck.

"The trash truck?" Wooshik asks "No way she'd get on that. It's disgusting."

My eyes close.

"You checked them?" Jisun asks.

"Every goddamn security cameras within a thirty-mile radius. We swept the city. No sign of any car except the garbage truck in morning."

My grip tightens around the whiskey glass—Garbage truck!O

f course—she'd choose the one vehicle no one would think to check. The stench, the filth... all perfect cover for a woman desperate to disappear.

"How poetic" I swirl the amber liquid "The queen of Jeon escapes through trash."

Wooshik gags audibly— while Jisun keeps bouncing Lucas—whose cries have subsided into exhausted whimpers and hiccups—i gesture at Jisun and take Lucas in my arms.

"Track it" I bounce him calmly "Every route. Every stop."

Minho hesitates "But boss...Those trucks make over fifty stops before dumping at–"

"Then you'll visit all fifty stops" I glance at him- he silence with a single look. "And when you find which bastard helped her?—Bring them to me breathing. Barely."

Jisun pales while Wooshik nods sharply and Minho steps out.

Night air cold against my skin.

It's clear she left by the trash truck—her last chance for escape.How I'd underestimated that woman.Even If stench is unbearable. Her route confirmed—she really did leave by that garbage truck.Desperate.

She dared.

She had the audacity to leave through the one hole our security's blindspot—the garbage truck.

Burn simmers beneath my ribs— the streets buzzing below...

Like she was never here.

But she can run to the edge of the planet and it won't make any difference—Because i always get back what belonged to me.

No matter how ugly it gets.

"Call the driver."

Silence.

"But boss-"

I glance at them. "Now!"

They nod. Footsteps walk out the door.

The city sleeps, the darkness pass by.

"After cuming infront of eyes , you dare to get in a garbage truck and escape from me?"

_______________________________

MORNING – THE PENTHOUSE

First light of dawn spills through the windows, painting everything in muted gold.

Lucas’s cries still echo from behind—sharp, unrelenting—cutting through the tense silence.

"Aish, this kid..."Wooshik rubs his temples "He hasn’t stopped since last night."

Jisun scoffs, bouncing Lucas harder in frustration. "And what do you want me to do about it? I’m not his mother."

"She really just... left him behind?" His voice drops lower— I take a drag in balcony , cigarette burns in silent.

"Guess she cared more about escaping than raising boss's son."

I grit my teeth. Silence stretches like a wire pulled too tight.

WAAAAAAHHH! WAAAAAAHH! —Screams rips through the penthouse. My eyes close.

"I can't take the crying anymore." Jisun mutters.

"How do parents do it? This sounds like hell." Wooshik grumbles,

Waaaaah WAAAAH

They wincing as Lucas's wails pierce the air.

"Will it ever stop?"

Jisun sighs. "Not when he's hungry."

WAAAHHHH WAAAHH WAAHHH-He wails like something broken inside him will never heal again...

Because of her.

Because she chose trash over family...

And that is an insult which i won't let slide unscathed...

"Shh...shhh...shh"

"Shh Lucas...look at him he is funny looking, isn't it?"

"Hey! What do you mean?" 

"Shut up. Im just trying to soothe him"They try their best to comfort Lucas—bouncing him, rocking, shushing him. But it's all useless.

I flick the ashes, it disappears in air and my son crying in agony.

It's time for her to learn.

I turn at the scene inside—the idiots are looking helpless.

Lucas face is red. His small chest heaves with sobs, hiccuping desperately—I step closer—take him from them.He instantly burrows into the crook of my neck, damp face pressing against my skin like lifeline. Little fingers clutch my collar, chewing weakly on the fabric between gasping breaths.

They looking at me like im some alien.

Warmth radiates from him—feverish with exhaustion and hunger.

I pat his back in slow, firm circles the way I’ve seen her do it a thousand times before—through half-open doors…"Tell the maids...to bring her frozen milk."

Lucas hiccups against my neck—still crying.And they stand frozen, stunned.mouths agape, eyes wide—

"WHAT?"

They exchange bewildered glances."B-Boss...you—" Wooshik stammers, voice laced with disbelief. "You...you stored her...mi-milk?"

I grit my teeth, turning sharply toward the balcony—

"Did he just say... frozen milk?" Wooshik whispers.

"He did. He absolutely did."

"But— when would he have even—?"

"Shut up before he skins us alive."Footsteps walk outside.

Lucas whimpers against my shoulder, tiny teeth gnawing weakly on my finger between hiccups—so small and fragile compared to the empire that birthed him. I stroke his damp hair— "Don't worry, jagiya.....daddy will get your mama back"

Even if I have to drag her screaming through hell myself.

...............●VOTE LIKE SHARE COMMENT ●.●FOLLOW FOR MORE UPDATES ●