Chapter Text
Ji-woo seldom spent her time with her colleagues as she didn't feel at ease with them. She felt she didn't belong to the gang, and that mostly was true.
She needed to learn something more about what Cha Gi-ho had in mind, understand what the police really knew about Dongcheon and Choi Mu-jin.
Understandably, as it hadn’t been long since she had joined the Narcotics, they didn't completely trust her. That's why she had to go out with the guys, to win their hearts and secure her place among them.
Not that she felt like being there at the moment. She was feeling exhausted from the day before, spent trying to get Mu-jin, and totally drained of her strength, but she kept engaging with them making questions, drinking and sort of laughing.
But her heart and mind weren't fully in there.
After she had successfully moved the police attention from Choi Mu-jin by opening the fire inside the ship, the man had disappeared into thin air. She had called him more than once, both at his mobile and office phone. Nothing. It kept ringing but no one had answered.
She was starting to worry that perhaps he had been wounded.
Sitting at the small table with the guys and drinking some soju, Ji-woo had not immediately felt her mobile vibrating in the inside poket of her jacket.
Excusing herself when she saw another one of her colleagues approaching, Ji-woo swiftly moved to a secure place where no one could hear her.
Her burner phone was ringing, just a letter displaying on its screen: A was calling. It was Choi Mu-jin.
Putting on the ear-bud, she steadied herself before speaking. She only hoped he was fine.
"Are you okay?” she asked quietly, without acknowledging him. He didn’t answer right away and she continued, answering his silent question. “It was an ambush, so I didn't know in advance."
"Is there a tail on me?"
"No. There are cameras in the hotel.” She explained in detail what she had gathered before the ambush happened. “The hallway at the penthouse entrance, the basement elevator entrance, the garage exit. There are three cameras in those places."
The only thing Ji-woo could hear was the sound of his ragged breathing, and she briefly wondered what he was thinking about. She imagined him sitting at his desk or on the sofa, smocking his usual cigarette with a cloud of smoke making his silhouette even more ethereal. She wished she could see his eyes in that moment, know if they were calculating, full of deep hatred or – just maybe, fear. If fear was even an emotion the cold-hearted Choi Mu-jin was even capable of feeling. Even though there had been a few times the drug lord had showed her a side of his character he probably kept bottled up most of the time, she doubt he would give in to fear.
"Which means we have a mole." It was the only thing he said, his tone without any particular inflection. At that Ji-woo didn’t really know what to say.
"I'll look into it."
She breathed heavily herself, trying to calm herself. There was something nagging at the back of her mind, and that simple thought was beginning to make her feel uneasy. Something was off.
There was a moment of silence between the two of them, and she thought he had hung up, before Mu-jin broke again the silence.
"Did you shoot the gun?"
"I had no way of contacting you."
There the communication went down. He didn’t wait to listen what she had to say, as though it wasn’t of any importance, or maybe he simply didn't want to talk to her.
She didn’t like that situation.
Choi Mu-jin wasn't a man of many words. He was concise, straight to the point and in a way also harsh... brutal. That said, he sometimes surprised her with such a softness that it seemed like it came from his very core.
This time, however, his voice and words didn’t match, and she could kind of picture his eyes speak a different truth from the one that was spoken.
Ji-woo wore her helmet and got on her motorcycle, driving fast through the dark night. It was cold outside, and she could clearly feel the humidity seep throughout her jacket, cooling her skin.
Her direction was the Liber Hotel, where she hoped she could see Choi Mu-jin. She wasn't sure he was there, when she had called him the first time he hadn’t answer at his office phone, nor at his private one as a matter of fact. It was like he had wanted to avoid her, even though he had called her in the end. That's why she was going there, to see for herself that everything was okay. That he really was okay.
She drove fast throughout the streets, her heart pounding hard. The Liber Hotel could be seen from afar, a tall column of bright stars illuminating the night. It was a beautiful hotel, a fine work of architecture, and it totally represented the man that owned it. Shining, luxurious and sinuous, you couldn’t help but to look at it… to be attracted by it. Exactly like Choi Mu-jin.
Parking near a secluded area where she knew no one would see her, not even the police cameras, Ji-woo made his way to the penthouse. She took different turns in the labyrinth that was the Liber, but eventually found the lift that she had been instructed to use at times such as that one. Inside, she took deep breath and steadied herself. She actually didn’t know what to expect.
Walking along the corridors, Ji-woo immediately found it weird that none of his subordinates was standing guard of his doors. There usually were at least four, sometimes six-eight, but this time there was no one. It was strange.
She hoped he has inside and that she hadn’t gone there for nothing.
Slowly approaching, she thought quickly about the best way to show her presence. She couldn’t just barge inside, like a thunderous hurricane. Could she? Yes, she could. It was her style of doing, more impulsive than scheming.
Storming inside without much thought anymore, she was met with a stricken-faced Mu-jin who sprang to his feet looking at her with wide eyes.
Recognising her, he immediately lowered the dagger he had quickly took out from the holster behind his back, ready to battle and kill whoever had decided to enter his territory.
The drug lord of Dongcheon didn’t really look like a drug lord in that moment. Away were his fine suits, those that perfectly fit his slender body, replaced instead by a grey loose V neck sweater under a black undershirt
He was sexy in a totally different way and Ji-woo couldn’t stop staring at him. It wasn’t the first time she saw him in casual clothes, but this was the most casual he had seen him dressed in. It was strange, indeed.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked, interrupting her musings, while walking slowly to the bar corner.
"I wanted to check with my eyes," she breathed, then clarified. "That you were really okay."
He seemed rather taken aback by her simple answer but recovered quickly. He poured himself a generous amount of amber liquid, then took another tumbler and raised it offering it to her, which she declined.
"I am.” He replied drinking a mouthful, then added as a way of scolding. “It's dangerous to be here now."
"No one followed me, don't worry about that."
But it wasn't that... his eyes didn’t show much of what he was thinking and that spoke volumes. Mu-jin didn’t normally hide his thoughts and ideas from her but let her touch them. That was something she really appreciated about him, because even if she was just a subordinate, it was like she meant more to him.
That’s why his silence, along with the mask he was currently wearing, bothered her deeply.
It was then that it finally downed on her.
Her head jerked in his direction, and she pinned his eyes with hers. She felt her head throb, a crashing awareness sinking her down.
"You don't trust me." She stated, a burning pain scorching her insides. "After all these years and after all I have done, you still do not trust me. You think I am the mole."
Did he really think it was her? She hadn’t betrayed him. Never.
"After all, you work for the police."
His simple answer made her blood boil, and her anger resurface. It had been long since the last time she had felt like a pressure cooker, her ears pulsing.
How could he?
"No!" Ji-woo nearly screamed, frustrated and angry at his words. In a few strides she was in front of him, nearly fuming. "I work for Dongcheon! I fucking belong to Dongcheon!"
In a fit of rage she took off her jacket, revealing a black shirt underneath. With a hand, she grabbed hold of the hem and pulled at it with strength, nearly tearing away the fabric.
There it stood her - his - tattoo. Dark and sinuous upon white skin, the two serpents glowed under the watchful look of the man that had created the pattern. They danced together, chasing each other's tail.
It was funny, Jiwoo thought, how similar Mujin and she were to the two serpents. There was him, the drug lord of Korea, running for his life and she, the girl that only had her suffering to keep her alive, chasing after his every request – doing her job.
She grabbed her marked skin hard, bruising it, scratching it with her fingers. She wanted to tear it off, to feel the pain and see the blood. How could he really think she was working to see him dead?
That mark was the symbol of her servitude, and she had taken it that faithful day knowing perfectly well what it meant. That day her life changed for ever.
He had no right to doubt her allegiance.
Breathing heavily, she carefully watched his face and noticed that it wasn't a blank wall anymore. There was such raw emotion in them, she couldn't really place her finger on what it was. It seemed like his eyes were reflecting her own emotions, as if there was a mirror between them.
Slowly, he raised his hand placing it carefully on her cheek. His fingers where warm and slow against her flesh, and she trembled slightly while holding her breath.
It wasn't the first time the two of them had found themselves in this kind of situation, as already once it had happened. And that time as well, it had been him to have started the contact. She still had no clue about what that meant, about what he wanted from her and, most importantly, what she herself felt for him.
His hot breath reached the side of her face, and she was immediately brought back from her musings.
His fingers never stilled on her cheek, going as far as to entwine into her fine hair, and she closed her eyes letting herself enjoy the moment.
"You belong to me, Yoon Ji-woo." He whispered; his voice huskier than ever slowly writing each word with the movement of his lips on her earlobe.
Those same lips that began a journey down her throat, slow and torturous. She couldn't help the moan that escaped her lips nor her grabbing of the back of the collar of the gray sweater he was wearing.
Mu-jin snickered at the sudden movement, but never stopped his ministrations. Ji-woo's hand tightened its hold on his clothes while she tried not squirm.
How the heck did she find herself in this situation?
"Why are you doing it?" She asked nearly exasperated but at first, she only received a scrap of his teeth on her neck as a response.
Then his eyes were on her again, their nose nearly touching. Her heartbeat sped and something in her clicked. She tightened her grip on him when his hand came again to caress her face.
"Just because." He answered without really saying anything. Then, Mujin kissed her lips, and all was lost.
The devil had written out her fate long before that scorching kiss, and she knew it. She had known it for a long time, since the moment her eyes had decided to acknowledge his own and her heart allowed to be chained.
Yoon Ji-woo belonged to Choi Mu-jin, just because.