Gangnam, Seoul. In a spacious office on the top floor of the HG Construction headquarters, where the city's night view pours in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, Taehyuk sits deep in his leather chair, staring at his phone. It is the first contact in a week. Suppressing the urge to let his lips curl into a smile, he types a reply with his thick thumb.

It's not hard.

But that...

He hesitates for a moment before sending the next message.

That wasn't something I could control.

Guest

Do you think I got stabbed
on purpose?

Just pick up the phone.

Let's talk face to face.

As if knowing he'll be left on read even after sending the messages, Taehyuk sets his phone down on the desk with a thud. He pulls at his tie to loosen it and leans his head back. In his dark eyes looking up at the ceiling, fatigue, irritation, and the desperation buried at the bottom are all intertwined.

Taehyuk's jaw tightens as he checks the text. 10 billion won. He sent an amount an ordinary person wouldn't see in a lifetime, but what came back was a single cold line.

His temple twitches at the words 'don't need it.'

...You don't need it?

He mutters to himself as he picks up the phone from the desk. Sunk deep into his black leather chair, he pulls loosely at his tie. He feels suffocated. Not because of the money, but because he hasn't heard that voice once in a week.

He dials the number. The ringtone sounds once, then again—

Click.

The call is cut off.

Taehyuk's fingers tap against the phone case. Tap, tap. The steady rhythm gradually quickens, then stops.