044

JEON

"BA… BAH-BAH"

Sigh.

Chubby hands waving in air "mmhn, mmmda-da... mmmmmph—"

Lucas squirms in my arms, face scrunched like I’ve personally offended him by my existence. His tiny fists batter my chest—

"Ba...ba... mmhmdah... mmmdaah..."

I exhale. Three hours of this nonsense.

Milk? Done. Diaper? Changed. Pacifier? Thrown at Wooshik’s head. Yet here we are—my heir conducting a one-baby protest against the universe while drooling on my Rolex.

Jisun, wooshik eyes me from across the room like i’m defusing a bomb."Boss… maybe he wants—"

I glare at him sharp with—Don’t say it.

Because we all know exactly what—or rather who—he wants right now…

Meanwhile Wooshik is discreetly Googling “can babies sense paternal homicidal intent” on his phone.

"mmhn, mmmda-dah....mm..mmmph."he babbles nonstop with nonsense words.

I bounce him.

"Ba...bah...dah." he babbles and glares at me, like a spoiled child.

"Sh." I try to soothe him with calm voice but it doesn't work.

"Ba...mmhm..mmmdaa...daa...mmph"

"Mmmph...dah..dahh—"

"Damn. Just shut up."

His face scrunches —and he WAILS loud enough to shake the chandelier.

WAAAAH! WAAAAH!

WAAAAH! WAAAAH! WAAAAH!

His screams drill my eardrums—I rock him, kick my boots up on table—

Jesus Christ.

Waaahhhh WAAAH! Wooshik winces like he’s been shot. Jisun pretends not to hear while typing furiously—probably drafting an apology letter to my future self for this mess—Minho just rubs his temples in a corner. Even Max looks up from the laptop with concern.

The rest of them glance me, clearly expecting me to explode any second.

I rock him absently.They scramble in front, pretending busy—half working security blueprints for that godforsaken hotel she’s cowering in….

WAAAAH WAAAAH WAAAAH!!!!!!!

His cries ear-piercing shriek that makes me want to shoot every window in this goddamn villa.

WAAAHHH WAAAAAH WAAAAH!

"Boss—" Jisun winces "Maybe we should... get a nanny or something..."

Nanny? my foot.

Two months. Two months of her playing hide-and-seek with hell itself, while my son soaks my shirts with tears and snot. Every cry is a fresh crack in my patience—and she thinks distance makes her safe? That lawyers and viral videos armor her against me?

She wanted a war? Fine. Let her choke on the silence first—let her wonder why Seoul hasn’t burned yet… why I haven't dragged her back by that pretty hair already...

Because when I finally come for her? She'll learn the hard way—no one wins against Jeon.

Tap-—Tap!

I tear my gaze from the building schematics.Chubby fists balled in miniature fury as he pats my face — thap, thap —wet fingers leaving traces on my chin and eyes blazing with indignant fury.

Like I’m the heartless bastard who stole his mama from him.

Little wet fingers patting my cheek with surprising force for 20-pound infant—

He is glaring with big, accusing eyes and red damp cheeks—

"Da...Da...Mmphmmmh...ba...ba.."

Damn. He won't shut up even for a second now.

“Da… dah...ahhhmmmhh… mmphmh... Ba...ba...” his tiny voice wobbling between fury and heartbreak, as if he’s listing my crimes in baby court.

The worst part? He’s right.

“B-Boss-" Jisun hesitates near the door  "maybe if...if you could just beg her—”

I glare—it cuts him off before he can finish. No negotiations. No compromises. She made her choice when she crawled into that garbage truck instead of my bed.

Lucas smacks me again—hard with a whimper. His chubby fists clench my shirt like he's trying to strangle answers out of me: Where is she? Why did you let her leave?

I tighten my grip around him—

Click—

The door creaks open. The maid shuffles in, hesitant, eyes darting like she expects a bullet between them"Boss... her— the milk is almost finished."

A beat.

"How much left?"

Her throat bobs "Umm... just a few bottles."

Air turns in ice.She swallows visibly, eyes flicking to the door as if calculating her chances... Every gaze burns on me—waiting for an explosion— Lucas smack his tiny palm against my cheek again, demanding attention like the little tyrant he is.

"Leave."

She bolts before I finish speaking, door slamming shut.

I exhale.

Leather creaks as I lean back against it—And these big fucking eyes staring right back into mine with his mama’s fire and my own stubbornness tangled in one unholy combination of infant audacity.Sigh. He continues to drill holes into my eyes—Little shit might not have words yet but he has opinions- YOU DID THIS.- FIX IT.

His eyes fix on mine.

Unflinching. Furious.

“Brat”

But the worst part? He's winning this battle , just by existing here covered in her scent—while the little remains of her slowly vanishes bottle by bottle…

_____________________________________

I exhale—Lucas finally dozing against my shoulder after hours of warring me via baby screeches.

"Boss, the hotel security is airtight—" Wooshik murmurs "She can't escape even if she tried..."

Minho agrees "Yeah, every entrance and exit is being watched 24/7. She won't be sneaking out."

Wooshik leans against the war room table—maps of the hotel sprawled out like a chessboard. He taps over security blueprints as voices mutter in hushed tension "Every exit’s covered—east stairwell, underground parking, even the damn laundry chute. She breathes wrong and we’ll know."

"The cameras are all covered and guards are in position." Jisun mutters  "She can't escape from this hotel and even if she does—"

"Boss would have her on his lap or under in seconds—"

Someone whistles low.

I glare.

Silence instantly.

City glitters beyond glass; all those lights and none bright enough to hide her.

Whoshik and Minho are deep in conversation with the gang members by the windows. Minho checks his watch and murmurs something.

Silence stretches.

Lucas is warm on my chest.I lean back, close my eyes. Now She'd need wings to escape me.

She really thinks seven-star hotels and viral videos shield her?—That I won’t reduce every brick between us to dust if she tests me? Pathetic.

Let her savor false hope a little longer… because the second she steps past that lobby door?

She'll find out there are only two places her to live.

In my arms.Or beneath me.

"Boss—problem—"

Another drama. I open one eye- Minho approaches, a stack of papers clutched in hand as he places them on the desk before me.

France Report.

Lucas gurgles around my fingers in sleep, drool slicking my knuckles— I flick through the pages.

"Someone was there at our meeting, spelling outside" He murmurs "...To your uncle."

I freeze mid-page. Ofcourse its him. "Who?"

He shrugs. "No name yet. But Louis said to freeze all the deals with that team and we shouldn’t proceed with any merger results until we gut the rat first.”

Silence.

The only sound is Lucas’s aggressive chewing, while this news could burn empires to ash."Find that guy"

He nods once and turns sharp on his heel while Wooshik mutters something about "cleaning house French style"—but all I hear is Lucas smacking his lips with innocent satisfaction like he just sampled daddy’s vengeance firsthand...

I slide my fingers out of his mouth as he instantly wails—chubby hands grasping desperately at air, try to drag it back in his mouth— "Don’t worry....She'll be back before all that milky is finished—"

The door bursts open—

"Boss—"  Max storms in—face pale—clutching an envelope "Boss... Mrs. Jeon—" He swallows hard, that I hear it from across the room "She..she pressed formal charges against you on Physical assault and...R-R*pe."

Silence.

He places the crisp white envelope on desk—it embossed in gold— Mr. Jeon J.

I open it.

Forced Marriage.

Physical assault.

R*pe.

Little lawyer now really signing her own warrant with ink instead of blood.

Great.Lucas hiccups softly against me.

I lean back.Drag me through every courtroom, every headline—while my son forgets how you smell like day by day—

You think paper shields trump vengeance? That prison bars would stop me reaching through you just because some judge bangs a gavel?

"Finally… finally you make this interesting again"

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