What's worse: losing the one you chose to spend your life with, or discovering he was killed by someone you love?
Dear reader,
Abandon all notions of affection and sweet romantic sentiments, for this story will shatter them if you dare to continue.
...
Hands tug at my heartstrings, binding me to a love twisted in pain and sacrifice. Every thread is a deceptive promise, a flame that burns slowly, consuming all.
I'm trapped in this twisted love—unable to break free, yet powerless to let go.
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Hyunjin's POV:
Tears stung my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Instead, I forced myself to meet his gaze, my voice steady, though my heart was shattering inside. "You're not him," I said quietly. "You're not the man I loved. You're just a shadow—a cruel echo of who he was."
Minho's lips curled into a smirk, his eyes glinting with a cold amusement that made my stomach twist. "Is that a no?" he taunted, his voice dripping with mockery, as if my pain was nothing more than a joke to him.
I couldn't take it anymore. His words, his indifference—it was too much. "Get off of me," I demanded, my voice firmer this time, laced with the anger and hurt that I could no longer suppress.
He let out a low, dark chuckle, clearly reveling in the power he held over me. With a casual shrug, he released me, rolling off the bed as if the entire encounter had been nothing more than a fleeting amusement. I watched as he sauntered over to his closet. He rummaged through his clothes, eventually pulling out a sleek black suit—tailored to perfection, of course.
As he began to dress in front of me, I sat frozen on the bed, trying to process everything that had just happened, trying to make sense of the cold stranger who now stood in front of me. The Minho I knew—the one who held me, who whispered promises in the dark—was gone, replaced by this man who wore his face but none of his warmth. I couldn't even bring myself to look at him, the sight of him dressing, as if nothing had happened between us, too painful to bear.
He must have noticed my silence, my refusal to meet his gaze, because he laughed—soft and mocking. "What's wrong, Hyunjin?" he teased, his voice laced with cruel amusement. "Haven't you seen me naked before? Or are you afraid I might seduce you again?"
I clenched my fists, willing myself to stay calm, to not let him see how deeply his words cut me. I kept my eyes fixed on the floor, refusing to give him the reaction he so clearly wanted. His arrogance, his cruelty—it was suffocating, but I wouldn't let him break me.
When he finished dressing, I finally looked up, watching as he walked over to the mirror. He adjusted his hair with practiced ease, smoothing down his shirt sleeves with the same casual confidence he used to command a room. It was infuriating—how easily he slipped back into that persona, as if nothing had changed.
"Where are you going?" I asked, my voice betraying a hint of the desperation I felt, though I tried to keep it steady.
"To have fun somewhere else," he replied coldly, not even bothering to look at me. His words were like a slap to the face, a harsh reminder that I no longer had any place in his life, in his heart. He didn't care how much it hurt, how much it tore me apart.
