Rin stood in the elevator, the mirrored walls closing around him like a steel cocoon. As the numbers lit up floor by floor, he caught his reflection—tired eyes, clenched jaw, posture that screamed of someone barely holding it together.
He wasn't sure what frightened him more: the evidence piling against Than or the part of him that still wanted to believe in the man behind the power.
When the doors opened, he stepped into the quiet hallway of his apartment. The hum of the city faded behind the door, but the storm inside him only grew louder.
His phone buzzed again.
This time, a message from an unknown number:
You think you know who he is. You don't. And if you keep pushing, he'll ruin you.
No name. No sign-off. Just a threat dressed like a warning.
Rin stared at it for a long moment before tossing the phone on the couch, the screen face-down. His heart was thudding, sharp and uneven. It wasn't just Than anymore. Whoever was watching, they were closing in.
He turned toward the kitchen but stopped short.
Kieran was sitting on the edge of the counter, arms crossed, his coat still damp from the rain. "You didn't answer your door," he said simply.
Rin blinked, a half-laugh caught in his throat. "That's because I didn't know anyone would break into my place like a cat burglar."
"I knocked. You didn't answer. I figured you were either dead or brooding in silence."
Rin didn't smile. He moved to the sink and poured himself a glass of water. "It's getting worse, Kieran."
Kieran's tone dropped. "I know. That's why I came."
He held up a flash drive. "Everything we found. Cleaned up and secured. If you want to go public, this is your shot."
Rin took it carefully, the weight of it more emotional than physical. "And if I don't?"
Kieran's eyes lingered on him, unreadable. "Then he wins. And you lose everything — not just your career. Your sense of who you are."
Rin turned away, gripping the edge of the counter. "What if it's already too late?"
Kieran pushed off the counter, walking over to stand beside him. "You haven't even started yet."
Their eyes met, and for a moment, the room went still.
There was something in Kieran's gaze Rin didn't want to acknowledge — something too honest, too unwavering. It scared him more than Than's threats, more than the power plays unraveling behind the scenes.
"Why are you helping me?" Rin asked quietly.
Kieran hesitated, then answered, "Because you matter. Whether you believe that or not."
Rin turned his head away, blinking against the sting in his eyes. "That's not enough to stop him."
Kieran's voice was softer now. "No. But it's enough to remind you why you need to."
Across the city, Than watched the storm roll in from the penthouse balcony. Thunder cracked above the skyline, low and rumbling, a threat whispered from the sky. He didn't move just stood there with a glass in hand, his tie loosened, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar.
Behind him, his assistant appeared silently. Sir, the legal team has flagged an internal leak. Someone's feeding information out. Anonymous uploads, mentions in underground blogs.
Than didn't turn. "How far has it spread?"
"Contained… for now. But we believe the source is close to Mr. Rivera."
Than finally glanced over his shoulder. "Find out who. And remind them why we don't tolerate betrayal."
"Yes, sir."
As the assistant left, Than looked down at his phone. No new messages from Rin. No late-night rants. No desperate voice notes.
Just silence.
It unnerved him more than any leaked file.
He tossed back the rest of his drink and set the glass down with more force than necessary. For all the cold control he projected, something was cracking. He felt it.
He hated it.
Later that night, Rin stood on the rooftop of his apartment building, the flash drive still in his hand. Rain slicked his hair, dripped from his lashes, soaked his shirt. But he didn't care.
Everything had led to this. The questions. The lies. The moments where Than had made him feel seen… only to pull the ground out from under him.
He stared up at the dark sky, lips parted like he wanted to scream but didn't have the strength. Lightning flashed far off in the distance, illuminating the city for a brief second.
And then his phone buzzed again.
Another unknown number.
You're not safe, Rin. He's losing control. Be careful.
His chest tightened. Was it a warning? A trap? Or someone watching from a distance who actually gave a damn?
He didn't know. But one thing was becoming terrifyingly clear:
Whatever was coming next… he wouldn't be able to outrun it.