The Cost of Protection
The city wind bit at Lee's exposed skin, mirroring the chill that had settled deep in his bones. He stood before Leejoon, the devastating ultimatum from Han Doyun still echoing in his ears. The words felt like a physical weight, threatening to crush the fragile peace he'd found in Leejoon's acceptance.
"He means it," Lee stated, his voice raw, stripped bare of all pretense. "He said if you touch one more of his assets, one more contract, he will expose me. Every detail. My entire life, my survival... he will end it."
Leejoon's face remained impassive, a fortress of cold control under the streetlights. He watched Lee, his eyes betraying no fear, only a deep, calculating intensity. "He thinks he has leverage. He thinks you are weak."
"I am weak compared to him!" Lee cried out, his hands clenching into fists. "He controls the media. He controls corporations. You just cut off a logistics company, and he retaliates by threatening to rip my entire existence to shreds! This isn't a game for you, Leejoon; this is my life!"
Leejoon finally moved, closing the distance between them, his presence both a comfort and a renewed source of dread. "And my life now involves protecting yours. You told me the truth. You trusted me. You think I will simply abandon that trust because a corporate snake hisses threats?"
"But he's not just hissing! He will do it!" Lee pleaded, grabbing Leejoon's arm, his fingers digging into the hard muscle. "Think about it! A male stylist, cross-dressing as a high-fashion model, the scandal would be immense! It would destroy Golden Media Group's image, yes, but it would annihilate me! My name, my future, Lia, everything would be gone!"
Leejoon's gaze softened for a fleeting second, a glimpse of the man who had seen Lee's pain. "And you think I will allow that? Do you truly believe I would let him destroy the one thing I have come to covet with such ferocity?" His voice deepened, becoming a low, dangerous growl. "He thinks he can buy loyalty with gold chains and threats. I claim it with conviction, and I defend it with an absolute refusal to yield."
He gently, but firmly, removed Lee's hand from his arm. "Chaos, Lee, is not always destruction. Sometimes, it is the only way to break a rigid, corrupt order. Han Doyun's system thrives on silence and intimidation. My system thrives on exposing the rot."
"So, you'll just... fight him?" Lee asked, fear gripping him. "You'll just make his business crumble piece by piece, and he'll retaliate by exposing me, and then you'll retaliate by… what? Killing him?"
Leejoon's expression remained blank, but the air around him grew colder. "Killing him would be too simple. Too clean. And it would make you a permanent liability, tied to my world with blood. No. I will dismantle his empire, piece by agonizing piece, until he has nothing left to threaten you with but a whisper."
"And what if he doesn't break?" Lee whispered, horrified. "What if he's as stubborn as you are?"
"Then we will find a new definition of victory," Leejoon said, his voice laced with an iron resolve. He reached out and gently adjusted the silver necklace around Lee's throat, the one he had given him. "You will wear this. Always. It has a secure frequency. My men will monitor it. If it leaves a certain perimeter, if it stops moving for too long in an unfamiliar place… they will come. Without question. Without mercy."
He paused, his eyes locking with Lee's. "Do you understand? This is no longer a choice. This is your lifeline. And my command."
Lee shuddered, feeling the cold weight of the metal, but also the grim certainty of his protector. He nodded slowly. "I understand. I'm... I'm afraid."
"Good," Leejoon said, the word unexpected. "Fear makes you cautious. It keeps you alive. Now, I will take you home. And then I will begin the dismantling of Han Doyun's empire."
Scene 2: The Ambush
The drive back to Lee's apartment was silent, tense. Leejoon didn't offer comfort, and Lee didn't ask for it. The promise of protection, though absolute, felt heavy and isolating.
When the black sedan finally pulled up two blocks from Lee's building, Leejoon insisted on dropping him off early, "to maintain the illusion of autonomy," he'd said with a dry, humorless tone. Lee hesitated.
"Be safe," Leejoon said, his voice a low command. "And remember what I told you. Do not run."
Lee nodded, stepping out into the hushed, almost empty street. The air was colder now, the moon a sliver of ice in the inky sky. He gripped his messenger bag, pulling his coat tighter around him. He walked with purpose, his senses on high alert, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Just the usual late-night glow of apartment windows, the distant hum of traffic.
He was only a block away, near the entrance to a dimly lit alleyway, when he heard it. The scuff of shoes on pavement behind him. Not Leejoon's silent, predatory glide, but something heavier, clumsier. And more than one pair.
Lee's heart slammed against his ribs. He quickened his pace, but it was too late.
Two large figures emerged from the alley's shadows, flanking him. Not elegantly dressed mafia enforcers, but rough, heavy-set men in dark tracksuits, faces obscured by baseball caps pulled low. Thugs. Hired muscle, not professionals.
"Well, well, well," one of them sneered, his voice coarse, smelling faintly of stale cigarettes. "Look what the boss dragged in. The pretty boy who thinks he's too good for us."
"Mr. Han sends his regards," the second man grunted, a cruel smile splitting his face. "Says you've been talking to the wrong people. Says you need a reminder of who owns your pretty little face."
Lee tried to step back, but they moved with surprising speed, boxing him in. "I don't know what you're talking about!"
"Oh, you do," the first man laughed, reaching out. His hand, thick and calloused, grabbed Lee's hair, yanking his head back. "And you're going to stop. Or next time, the reminder won't be so gentle."
Pain exploded behind Lee's eyes as his head was slammed against the brick wall of the alley. His vision swam. He tasted blood. He struggled, but their combined strength was overwhelming. He felt a kick to his stomach, stealing his breath, then a harsh shove that sent him sprawling to the ground.
The silver necklace, Leejoon's tether, dug into his throat, a cold, hard reminder of the war he was caught in.
"Leave him alone!" a sudden, furious voice cut through the night.
It wasn't Leejoon. It was a passerby, a young couple, who had stopped, wide-eyed with horror.
"Mind your own business!" the second thug snarled, taking a menacing step towards the couple.
Lee closed his eyes, bracing for another blow, a renewed wave of terror. He had delivered the threat, and now he was paying the price. This was a message. A brutal, terrifying, undeniable message from Han Doyun.
Then, a new sound. A low, guttural growl that was almost inhuman.
And then, chaos.
The first thug, still holding Lee's hair, suddenly stiffened. His eyes widened in a silent scream, and his hand flew to his throat as he was dragged backward with impossible speed, disappearing into the deepest shadows of the alley. A sickening thud echoed, followed by a choked gurgle.
The second thug turned, bewildered, just as a dark blur launched from the shadows. It was Leejoon. He moved like a phantom, utterly silent, terrifyingly efficient.
The thug didn't even have time to raise his hands. Leejoon's fist connected with his jaw with an audible crack. The man went down like a sack of bricks, unconscious before he hit the ground.
Lee lay there, stunned, watching as Leejoon emerged from the deepest shadow, dragging the first thug's limp body out like a discarded toy. The man was still, unmoving. Lee didn't need to check for a pulse. Leejoon hadn't simply incapacitated him. He had silenced him. Permanently.
Leejoon knelt beside Lee, his face a terrifying mask of cold fury. His clothes were unruffled, his hair only slightly disheveled. Only his eyes, burning with a primal rage, betrayed the violence he had just unleashed.
"Are you hurt?" Leejoon asked, his voice low and ragged, his earlier stoicism completely gone.
Lee coughed, trying to catch his breath, his ribs aching. "Y-yes. My head. My stomach."
Leejoon reached out, his hand gently touching the bruised skin near Lee's temple. The touch was agonizingly tender, a stark contrast to the brutal efficiency he had just displayed. "His message. It was crude. Amateurish. Designed to terrify. But he miscalculated."
He rose, turning to the two still bodies. "He sent street dogs to fight a wolf. He is learning the hard way that you are under my protection."
He pulled out his phone, making a quick, terse call. "Minho. Two bodies. Alleyway off Jung-gu Boulevard. Clean it. And send a message to Han Doyun: My property is not to be touched. The next 'reminder' will be sent to his home, wrapped in his favorite daughter's blood."
He hung up, his face devoid of emotion once more.
Scene 3: The Aftermath and New Rules
Leejoon helped Lee to his feet, supporting him as they walked away from the scene of the brutal, necessary violence. The young couple who had tried to intervene were long gone, fleeing in terror.
"They won't speak," Leejoon said, sensing Lee's unspoken question about witnesses. "My men will ensure it."
Lee stumbled, his head throbbing. "You... you killed him. Just now. For me."
Leejoon stopped, his eyes meeting Lee's with an unwavering intensity. "I killed him because he touched what is mine. And you are mine, Lee. You confessed your truth to me. You trusted me. You bound yourself to my protection. Did you think that would come without consequence for those who try to break that bond?"
Lee slumped against a cold stone wall, feeling the full, terrifying weight of Leejoon's possessiveness. "So, this is it? A war? With my life as the battlefield?"
"No," Leejoon stated, his voice firm, final. "The battlefield is Han Doyun's empire. Your safety is the objective. And my rules are absolute now."
He reached out, his hand firmly gripping Lee's jaw, tilting his face up. "From this moment forward, you will tell me everything. Every meeting, every unusual conversation, every time Han Doyun breathes in your direction. Your phone will be cloned. Your apartment will have a silent alarm, keyed directly to my network. Your travel will be monitored."
Lee's eyes widened. "That's... surveillance. That's control."
"It's protection," Leejoon corrected, his thumb tracing the line of Lee's bruised jaw. "You are valuable. Dangerous. And now, you are mine. That means you live by my rules. You will not leave your apartment without alerting my driver. You will not speak to Han Jisoo without my knowledge. You will trust that every move I make is to secure your freedom from Han Doyun's tyranny."
Lee stared at him, exhausted, terrified, yet a strange, dark sense of security settled over him. He had surrendered his truth to Leejoon, and in return, he had been offered absolute, ruthless protection. It was a suffocating freedom, but it was freedom nonetheless.
"What about Lia?" Lee asked a question that was fragile. "What about the persona? What about my work?"
Leejoon's eyes softened infinitesimally. "Lia is not gone. She is simply resting. We will decide when she re-emerges. When the time is right. When you are truly safe enough to wear that beautiful lie without consequence."
He stepped back, his face returning to its familiar mask of cold, dangerous control. "Minho will be here in three minutes. He will take you home. He will ensure your apartment is secured. I will be in contact. Do you understand your new reality, Lee?"
Lee nodded, the silver necklace a cold, constant pressure against his skin. He understood. He had traded one set of chains for another, but these, at least, were forged by a hand that claimed to love him.
The war had truly begun. And Lee was no longer an innocent bystander; he was the prize, guarded by a wolf who had just shown him his teeth.