061

Y/N

"Yeah, it's their ID, Mrs. Jeon." Layla's voice barely above breath, she subtly angles her phone toward me, screen dimmed.

"Are you sure of it?" I murmur, and wipe Lucas’s drool with the edge of my cardigan.

She nods almost imperceptibly. "My boyfriend is close to Wooshik. He sent me this."

My grip tighten around Lucas, shifting him higher on my hip. He is growing bigger now and getting harder to carry, but he still cling tighter every time we move. His tiny fingers tug at my sleeve, oblivious to the tension humming under every step we take down the hallway. The guards lining the walls aren’t just standing there—they’re watching. Always watching.

The tension in the hallway is thick enough to choke on as we walk, our footsteps echoing softly against the polished marble. Lucas squirms in my arms, he tugging my shirt as drool dribbles down his chin. I wipe it absently, my fingers trembling just slightly—but I don’t let it show. Not here. Not with so many eyes watching.

I exhale, careful not to let my expression flicker. Around us, his men are like statues—shoulders broad, eyes sharp, tracking every shift in my posture, every whisper between me and Layla.

Layla matches my pace, her face perfectly neutral—the picture of a dutiful maid. But her fingers twitch at her side, restless. "What now?"

"Keep walking" I murmur, kiss Lucas’s temple, letting my lips linger too long—Just another act to fool the guards—to make them think it's just Layla and I talking about something normal..."If this gets back to him—"

Layla interrupting with a sudden, loud giggle— "HAHA! Yes, Mrs. Jeon, such a funny diaper story!— Anyway, the guards are staring. Smile like we’re talking about his adorable bunny grin"

I adjust Lucas’s weight, and nod as if we’re just gossiping about his latest diaper blowout.

But inside? My pulse hammers like a trapped bird.

One wrong glance.

One suspicious shift.

One fucking sneeze—and this could all collapse.

Lucas babbles nonsense in my neck, smacking his teething toy against my collarbone.

"But how could I make contact? I have no sources" I murmur against his hair.

Layla glances around, eyes darting from cameras to a nearby guard "Could I contact them on your behalf, Mrs. Jeon?"

I stop in tracks and turn at her—

She'd really do that for me? Risk herself like this.

But her life would be on danger then.That motherfucker has eyes everywhere.

My stomach twists.When he finds out—because that man misses nothing—Layla won’t just lose her job. She’ll lose everything.

I shake my head "No—no, Layla, it’s too risky—If he even suspects—"

She takes my hand,  her eyes steady on mine. "Mrs. Jeon, it’s the only option left."

A beat. "And boss would never suspect me."

I swallow hard.

Because she’s right.

Jeon watches me like a hawk—every breath, every blink—but the staff? They’re ghosts to him. Tools. Faceless shadows he’d never imagine could dare a plot against him.

Lucas fusses suddenly, squirming in my arms, I adjust him higher—

"Do you trust... your boyfriend?" I murmur quietly.

Her grin sharp. "Enough to know he hates boss more than we do."

"But—”

Lucas wriggles, whining for attention. "Mamah...ma-mamah."

I sigh, rocking him gently. "Shhh... shhh  bub…" Lucas wriggles more, trying to escape my arms. "Shh, shh, baby—what’s wrong?" I adjust my grip—but he only grins up at me with those bunny little teeth, eyes sparkling mischief —Then—Pbbbbbt! he blows a wet raspberry against my cheek.

Layla bursts into laughter "Aigoo! Looks like someone is obsessed with you, Mrs. Jeon."

I exhale—wiping drool off my face with the back of my hand.Yeah. everyone in this villa is obsessed with me.

One wants to own me.And this tiny terrorist wants to drool on me.

We keep walking—past guards who stare straight ahead but listen, past maids who bow their heads but watch.

Air hums with unspoken danger, but Lucas? He babbles happily, slapping his hands against my shoulders like none of it matters.

"Why does he have so much staff?" I ask quietly "Can he even afford it?"

Layla laughs.  "Mrs. Jeon, you're so naive."

I frown at her "What do you mean?"

She stops—turns at me with a smirk. "Do you even know how much he pays us each month?"

I freeze—suddenly feeling stupid—I shake my head slowly.

Her smirk widens—eyes glinting like she’s about to drop a bomb—but then she starts walking again, leaving me hanging.

"Wha—? Layla—"

But she just keeps moving, amusement in her steps.

Does he pay them that much?

More than I could even imagine?

How much?

Enough that she won’t even say it out loud?

Fuck—how rich is he?

But then—of course.

Of course he’s this rich.

He doesn’t just run the underworld—He is the underworld.

And now I’m trapped in the middle of it—with his drooling baby on my hip and a staff payroll that probably a small country’s GDP.

Lucas giggles and slaps my cheek like he’s applauding my slow realization.

I start walking.

We turn the corner—and freeze.

There he steps out of his office—that stupid nerd following like a loyal puppy—and a sharp-eyed advisor—who always looks like he’s calculating how much blood a person can lose before passing out—and the rest of his circle trailing behind like shadows.

My heart races. The world slows.—the only movement coming from Lucas on my hip, who babbles nonsense in his own little world, fingers tangled in my hair—

Then—he looks up.

Stops mid-step.

His men freeze beside him.

His eyes locked on me.

Sudden silence all around.

—I can't breath. I can't move.

Layla might as well a statue beside me—not even blinking.

My feet stuck on the marble.

A beat.

Two.

His gaze flicks to Lucas—then back to me— "Dah-dah!" Lucas squeals—reaching one chubby hand at Jeon like he’s greeting his favorite monster.

His frown deepens—then he steps closer. Closer.

Lucas babbles loudly—blissfully unaware, but I can’t focus—not when his eyes are dark red, pupils blown wide. Almost like he’s drunk—in the middle of the day.

He stops right in front of me.

And yeah—the smell of alcohol hits me like a punch.

How much did he drink already?His breath is sharp—whiskey, maybe—but laced with something heavier. Something bitter.

"What are you doing here?"His voice rough—raw—like he’s been shouting or... worse.

I look down, heart hammering against my ribs.

Silence.

But I can feel his gaze—burning on my skull—waiting.

"I... we... just—"

"Boss, Mrs. Jeon is just having her daily walk."Layla’s voice cuts in—sharp but polite.

I glance at her—she looks like she’s about to piss herself. Thank you, Layla.

I slowly lift my gaze—his eyebrows are furrowed, jaw clenched, those dark, bloodshot eyes locked on me like he’s trying to carve the truth out of my skull with his death glare.

I swallow.

He doesn’t look satisfied.

Not with her answer.Not with whatever imaginary betrayal he’s conjuring in that liquor-soaked mind of his.

His hand shoots out—

I flinch—But he just grabs Lucas’s dangling foot—squeezing once—before letting go.

Lucas squeals—kicking excitedly—as if his father’s touch is anything but terrifying.

Jeon exhales—sharp. "Go back to your room."

And he turns sharply and stalks away, the sharp click of polished shoes echoing down the hall. The nerd and the others scramble after him like shadows,  footsteps and lingering stench of whiskey in air.

And im frozen.

What—?

Just... like that?

No threats?No hands around my throat? No hissed warnings about consequences?

I turn to Layla—her eyes are wide, lips slightly parted, looking just as stunned as I feel.

Silence.

A beat.

Another.

We’re both still rooted to the spot, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop—for him to come storming back—

But nothing happens.

Just… silence.

"Mamama...maahh!" Lucas whines, squirming like a restless kitten.

Layla exhales sharply— "Mrs. Jeon, come on—let’s go back to your room before Boss’s mood changes."

I gulp—nodding stiff—and start walking, slow steps down the hall toward the gilded prison that’s his so-called "room."

And Lucas?

The little traitor squeals in delight—kicking his chubby legs as his personal cow-mother is moving now.

Brat.

—————————————————

"ENOUGH, Lucas!"

He flinches—little body stiff, eyes widen—as he never heard that tone from me before.

But today?

Today, my nerves are stripped bare.

He's about to cry—I can tell from those trembling lips and the way he's gulping back tears like it's a battle.

I give him the severe look. The one i only use when he’s tried to put his whole fist in his mouth or crawl toward the balcony.

"Now mama will scold you very bad."

His lower lip juts out. Quivers.

Then—

Eyes glisten.

One tear.

Another.

A hiccup—

Then—a wail. big fat tears roll down his plump cheek.

"WAAAHHHH! WAAAHHH! WAAAAAAAAH!"

Full volume. Chest-heaving, face-scrunching with how-could-you-Mama sobs.

"Waaah. Waaaahhh! WAAAAAH".

He’s wailing loud—big, gasping cries that shudder through his whole tiny body—

Sigh.

I slump back against the pillows—exhausted—my whole body aching. The softness of the pillows feels like concrete beneath.

For the past hour, i’ve been trying to gently pry him off—but he’s stubborn as hell, tiny fingers clutching my nipples like a lifeline.

And honestly?

At this point, My nipples are raw. Bruised red, bitten too many times by those sharp little bunny teeth. Every suck feels like fire—like tiny razor blades dragging against already-tender skin.

WAAAHHHH WAAAHHHH WAAHHHH

I wince, gritting my teeth."Lucas—enough."

But he’s too busy crying to listen—full-on wailing now, legs splayed wide on bed, tears and snot running freely down his flushed cheeks.

Like he’s convinced that if he just cries hard enough, I’ll give in forever.

And maybe—maybe—if I weren’t so exhausted, so touched-out, so full—I would.

But right now?

Every tug of his mouth sends a fresh wave of pain through me, milk dripping messily down my buds.

I tuck myself back in—my breasts throbbing, the skin red and sore from his relentless feeding. Those sharp little bunny teeth of his have left marks—that stings every time fabric brushes against them.

Im full—too full—but the moment milk lets down, it’s like fire. The pain shoots through me—deeper than before i grit my teeth, fingers tightening in the sheets.

Lucas sniffles, rubbing his wet face against the bedsheet, hiccuping—as if he isn't the wronged one here.

I should call Layla.Should ask for help.

But the thought of moving—of dealing with anyone right now—makes my bones feel heavier.

So i sit still—letting him cry infront—because what else is here to do?

WAHHHHHHH!WAHHHHHH! WAAAAAHHH!

His screams are relentless—high-pitched, demanding—face scrunched up like I’ve committed the ultimate betrayal.

I exhale "Shh... shh... calm down."

But he only glares at me—his tiny finger jabbing accusingly at my chest, as if screaming, "THEY'RE RIGHT THERE!"

"No." I say firmly "You're not getting any of these right now."

"BGLAGHH! BAHHH! AGHHH! MMPHHH!" He thrashes, kicking his legs.

"Shout all you want,"

He tries to lunge at me. I move back, he freezes—eyes widening—before his whole face crumples into another ear-splitting wail.

"WAhlahh.. Whhh.. Wghhh.. WHHHh.."

"Yeah, scream" I scoff, exhaustion fraying my patience. "Scream as loud as you can. Let your bastard daddy hear you all the way down the hall."

He slumps onto his pile of teddies—chest heaving—sobbing dramatically between incoherent baby rants, still pointing at my chest like I've committed a war crime.

I scoff.

Lean back deeper into the pillows, letting them cradle my aching muscles.

The room echoes with his cries.cheeks blotchy, exhausted—my anger melts into something heavier.

I reach out, brushing a tear from his round cheek.

He whimpers—try to suck my fingers—already forgiving.

Click—

The door slowly opens.

I jolt upright. Lucas’s cries stops in mid-wail, his head whips around—tiny fists clenched, tear-streaked face hopeful—

Please not his father—

But it’s just Layla.

I exhale and sink back into the pillows, Lucas’s shoulders slumps ,bottom lip trembles—before he flings back into full-volume sobbing, kicking his legs like the world has ended.

I scoff too drained to care.

“Oh my God—” layla rushes over, scooping him up and bouncing him gently. “Shhh, little boss, shhh—”

But he only glares at her through his tears—and letting out another ear-piercing shriek.

Of course.

She hushes him but He cries even more, glaring at her—it's not the person he wanted. It's not his daddy.

If it wes his father walking in, he would’ve instantly switched to pitiful whimpers—big, watery eyes looking up like "Daddy, save me from this evil woman who won’t feed me!"

“Mrs. Jeon, why is he crying like this?” Layla asks, struggling to hold him as he arches his back, determined to throw himself on floor.

“Ask him" i mutter "He’s very great at  complaining.”

She shoots me a look—half exasperated, half amused—before adjusting Lucas against her hip. “Aigoo, little tyrant. What did your mama do to you, huh?”

Lucas sniffles dramatically, as if considering his answer, before dissolving into fresh wails and pointing accusingly at my chest like I’ve committed treason.

Layla’s eyes drop. “Ah.”

“Yeah. Ah.”

She grimaces in sympathy—knowing full well the state of my poor, bitten-up nipples—before sighing and reaching for the pacifier on the nightstand. “Here, you little devil. Chew on this instead.”

Lucas eyes it suspiciously… before throwing it with a "ptoo!" and resuming his tearful demands.

I groan, dragging a hand down my face.

God help me.

"Shhh, shhh, little master..." Layla murmurs, rocking him gently. "Neither boss will be mad..."

As soon as the words leave her lips—

His cries stops for a split second. big, wet eyes widen—

ThenWAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!WAHHHHHHHHHHH!!

Louder. Angrier. Like he’s deliberately cranking up the volume.

"Aish—SEE?! SEE THIS?! He’s doing it on purpose!" I glare at him. He glares right back—his face beet-red—before unleashing another ear-splitting wail, fists flailing.

Layla winces, bouncing him harder. "Mrs. Jeon—please, make him stop!"

"No, Let him scream. Let him call that bastard in here—I want to see how much he loves his precious daddy than me." I gulp- "The one who feeds him, bathes him, stays up all night with him—while he just waltzes in whenever it’s convenient!"

He screeches—like he understands every word—his cries turning almost theatrical now, chest heaving between each dramatic gasp.

Layla looks panicked. "Mrs. Jeon—"

"No." I lean forward, glare at him "Go ahead, baby. Cry louder. Let him hear you."

And Lucas—the little traitor he is—does.

His wails echo off the walls—high-pitched, desperate—the kind  that would make any parent come running.

"But Mrs. Jeon, boss is in his office with a crucial meeting..."

I turn at her.

"What meeting?"

She hesitates, biting her lip.

"Meeting about scorpions."

My blood stops.

"...What?"

She nods fast. "Yes. My boyfriend—he overheard Wooshik—they’re planning some kind of operation against them."

"What... operation?" I whisper, heart hammering fast.

She rolls her eyes slightly "Oh Mrs.Jeon, you don’t know anything!"

Her words sting, but that's true.I don't know anything‐ noone tells me a damn thing in this villa.

She leans closer— "The Scorpions… they’ve been targeting you for months." She pauses. "Sending messages. At the warehouses… bodies hung with notes saying 'we’ll take what’s his'... pictures of you pinned to crates..."

My stomach drops.Lucas whimpers again—but this time it feels different.

"And now....Boss isn’t waiting anymore."she swallows hard "He’s starting something—Tonight."

My heart drops, panic rising like heartburn in chest. "F*cking hell! What we would do—" WAAAAAHHHHHHLucas lets out another blood-curdling scream that makes us flinch.

"Aish—give him here!" I stretch my arms out.

She hands him over fast. The second he’s in my arms, the screaming stops.

Like magic.

I quickly unbutton my blouse with trembling fingers. He lunges—latches on with that oh-so-familiar force—and it goddamn, burns.A sharp cry lodges in my throat.

He’s not sucking—he’s chewing, like a tiny rabid bunny, while twisting my other nipple between chubby fingers just for fun.

And then?

He looks up at me—

—with those wide, innocent eyes—

—and grins.

A cheeky, knowing little smirk—as if saying: "You’re mine now."

I glare down at him—but can’t do anything but wince through the pain.He bites down—chews almost—and twists the other nipple between pudgy fingers like it’s a toy dial. All while grinning up with cheeky, milk-drunk eyes.

Layla watches with a wrinkled nose—"Mrs.Jeon..."

I wince—"Not now."

Once he’s finally sucking steadily—the rhythm still sending jolts through me—I turn back to her "...What about our plan?"

She swallows nervously— "Mrs.Jeon... I already sent the messages."

My breath stops—"what–"

She nods "On their darknet channels… through proxy accounts my boyfriend gave me." Her voice trembles "the underground forums... where Scorpions operate."

Silence.

"You mean... you contacted them? Directly?" My voice cracks—

She nods once. Her eyes flicker to Lucas—who's still smugly nursing like nothing matters."Told them you're want to talk… that you have information."

"You said what?!"

She holds up her hands quickly—"It was the only way they’d respond! And Mrs.Jeon—if Scorpions are really after you… maybe they’ll come for you first before boss moves on them…"

My chest tightens. Lucas gurgles happily—

A beat.

She sighs "I don’t know if they’ll respond... or if they’ll believe it’s real."

My heart pounds loud.

A sharp bite—I bite my lip—fighting back a whimper as pain shoots through my chest. My fingers curl into the sheets.

"B-But what if they don’t respond?” I ask, voice shaky.

Layla sighs, eyes downcast. “Mrs. Jeon… honestly? I think it’ll be better if they don’t respond.”

I frown. “What–– Why?”

She shakes her head slowly—eyes darting around like the walls might be listening—then leans in slightly."Mrs. Jeon… they’re not like boss." She whispers "They’re… worse, Much more cruel.”

My blood turns to ice.

“W..what do you mean?”

She glances at Lucas— then back at me, “My boyfriend said… on the warehouse walls… it wasn’t just threats.” She swallows  “They wrote... vulgar- vile things about you.”

My stomach lurches.

“Degrading drawings too… like—you were tied up… humiliated…” Her fingers twist nervously in her apron “And their way of torture…” She shakes her head slightly. “Even killed their people just to send messages to boss—to prove how serious they are—And their methods?—They killed two of their own men last month and hung them upside down with your name carved on their chests."

My heart skips a beat.

I glance down- Lucas gurgles in sleep—milk dribbling from his lip, one tiny hand still twisting my sore nipple.

“And Mrs.Jeon…If they find out you reached out first…" She pauses. I look at her.

"...they won’t see it as surrender—They’ll see it as an invitation...They willingly accept you but not to help you but torture you."

The room feels colder now—even with Lucas’ warm body pressed against mine.

—dread creeping up my spine…like something dark is already answering back in silence.

I swallow hard, but say nothing. Just stare down at Lucas. He's almost out—little face pink peaceful against me.

Tiny hands curled into fists—sticky with the milk he just ate. Milk dribbling from the corner of his mouth. My nipple throbs I tuck it back—leaking—

Silence.

How dangerous could they really be? Maybe not worse than him.

If I have to die for ruining that bastard… then so fucking be it.

"Mrs. Jeon," Layla whispers, voice trembling— "this is why boss is moving now. He ignored them at first… let things slide…" Her eyes flicker down—to my bump, to sleeping Lucas— “...until they started sending messages about you… and them.”

My stomach twists.

Them.

His blood.

His legacy.

They weren’t just threatening me—they were targeting what he values most: ownership.

And now—I’ve reached out?

I glance down at Lucas—the boy who doesn't know what war is brewing over his drool-stained onesie—i pull him closer against my chest—

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Sharp.Urgent.From Layla’s pocket.She pulls out her phone slowly—

Then—

Her face drains color.

"L-Layla?—What... what is it?"

She lifts her head—eyes wide—and then she turn the screen at me.

Three words in bold red text across an encrypted message board:

"WE SEE YOU COMING"

"BRING THE CHILD TOO"

I can’t breathe.

The room tilts—

Beep.

I stare at her.

She gulps, her hand trembles.

"Mrs, Jeon" she whispers,"T-They sent plans too…"

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