The night outside her window bled rain against the glass, soft and relentless. Soo Ah sat curled in an oversized chair, arms around her knees, her wedding ring catching the faint light of the lamp beside her.
She stared at nothing.
Because in her mind, she was somewhere else.
A month ago
The city was wet with rain and secrets. Neon signs flickered in silence as Soo Ah staggered down a side alley, blood soaking through her coat. One hand clutched her side where the blade had grazed her. The other hand still trembled from what she'd done.
Another name crossed off her list.
Another monster gone.
But this one had fought harder than she expected.
She'd left the scene messy.
Sloppy.
She hated that.
Sirens hadn't arrived yet—but she knew they would. Soo Ah limped into an abandoned loading dock nearby, breathing through clenched teeth. She had to disappear. She had to—
"Stop."
The voice hit her like a bullet.
Cold. Commanding. Unmistakable.
She turned—and froze.
Ethan Kim stood beneath the flickering dock light, dressed in a long black coat, expression carved from stone. He wasn't supposed to be here.
He wasn't supposed to see her.
For a moment, they both stared.
And then his eyes flickered to the blood on her side.
"You were there," he said. It wasn't a question.
Soo Ah hesitated. "I—They tried to kill me. I got away."
She wasn't lying.
Just not telling the full truth.
He stepped closer, eyes sharp. He didn't know yet. Didn't know she was the one he'd been trying to track for months—the ghost leaving behind trails of justice and bodies.
"You're lucky to be alive," he muttered.
Then he did something that made her blood run cold.
He pulled out his gun and turned toward the warehouse she'd escaped from.
One by one, he moved through the shadows, silent as death.
Gunshots rang out—muffled.
Three.
Four.
Five.
When he returned, his gloves were stained and his jaw was set.
"Everyone there is dead now," he said flatly. "No witnesses."
She stared at him, lips parted.
"Why…?"
"Because the killer doesn't need to be caught by people who don't understand what they're doing," Ethan said, his voice distant. "If someone's doing the world a favor, I won't stop them."
Her breath caught.
He didn't know it was her.
He didn't know he'd just killed to protect the one he was trying to hunt.
"You should disappear," he said, eyes briefly meeting hers. "Tonight never happened. Understand?"
She nodded.
Slowly.
Her heart was pounding—not with fear, but something close to awe. He didn't see her. Not yet. But he had protected her. Chosen her.
"Why are you helping me?" she whispered.
Ethan paused.
"Because you remind me of someone who didn't get saved in time."
He turned away.
And just like that—he was gone.
Soo Ah stood alone in the rain, soaked in blood and disbelief. Her heart thudded like it had never beaten before.
He didn't know she was the killer.
But he had protected her anyway.
And from that moment on, she was his.
No matter how much fire she'd have to walk through.
Back in the present, Soo Ah ran her fingers lightly over her thigh where the scar still lived, hidden under silk pajamas.
That night was etched into her forever.
Not because he saved her.
But because he saw her—broken, monstrous—and didn't flinch.
He didn't pity her.
He didn't question her.
He just acted.
And in that moment, she knew:
She would follow him anywhere.
Even if he led her straight into ruin
________________
back than...
Ethan actually suspected Soo -ah. He is smart enough to not let Soo -ah guess his suspension.
"Why would a week girl like Soo -ah be here in the middle of the night with those peoples.
And those people wouldn't get anything by killing or injuring her unless they are Mr.han's enemy."
He couldn't stop thinking about that serial killer as he need his help. He also didn't disclosed his plans to Soo -ah.
That's why Ethan invited her on a restaurant to read her more. It felt like a date but it wasn't. But he was more shocked back than as Soo -ah confessed her feeling.
___________________
The grand dining hall of Ethan Kim's penthouse was drenched in soft morning light. Silver cutlery gleamed. The table, long enough to seat twenty, had only two people seated at opposite ends.
Ethan Kim, sharp in a crisp black shirt, sat with the paper in one hand, coffee in the other. Silent. Cold.
Han Soo Ah, in a silk ivory robe, rested her chin on her palm, eyes lazily observing him across the expanse of polished mahogany. Her plate of fruit sat mostly untouched.
The only sound was the gentle clink of cutlery and the distant hum of the city below.
Ethan finally spoke—without looking up.
"Let's talk business."
Soo Ah blinked, then smiled. "Already? You didn't even ask how I slept in your guest room."
Ethan didn't react.
"The deal," he said, tone flat. "You're going to help me find my brother's killer. So—what's your plan?"
Soo Ah picked up a grape, twirled it between her fingers. "Straight to work, Mr. Kim. That's so you."
He didn't smile.
She sighed, leaning back in her chair. "I suppose I could've dragged it out. Played detective. Broken into databases. But that's not really my style, is it?"
Ethan looked up, finally meeting her gaze.
"You know something."
She nodded. Slowly.
Then, almost casually:
"I already know who killed your brother."
The silence that followed wasn't loud—but it was sharp.
Ethan's grip on his coffee mug stilled. His eyes didn't move from her. "You're sure?"
"Without a doubt."
"Then tell me."
Soo Ah smiled—soft, almost wistful. "I could. But I won't."
His jaw tightened. "Why?"
"Because I don't have proof yet," she said, her voice gentle, but her eyes deadly serious. "And what good is a truth you can't prove, Ethan? You know how that feels, don't you?"
He didn't answer. Just stared at her.
She tilted her head, her voice lowering.
"You spent your whole life with your family blaming you for something you didn't do. So I won't do that to you—not even to give you closure."
Ethan's eyes darkened. "Don't play moral compass now."
Soo Ah chuckled. "Who said anything about morals?"
She rose from her chair, walked slowly down the length of the table toward him, her bare feet silent against the polished floor. She stopped a few feet short of where he sat, not too close—but close enough.
"When I have proof," she said, "you'll be the first to know. I promise."
He stared at her for a long moment. Searching her face like it was a puzzle he hadn't solved yet.
"You'd better be right," he said at last. "Because if you're lying—"
"I don't lie to you, Ethan," Soo Ah whispered. "You just don't like the truths I give you."
And with that, she turned and walked out, her steps slow, confident.
Ethan sat there for a moment longer, eyes narrowed—not at her retreating figure, but at the storm now forming in his mind.
She knew.
And the game had just shifted.