Chapter Text
Seonghyeon knew two things with absolute certainty.
One: he had just committed a felony.
Two: Juhoon was never allowed to complain about his ex ever again.
The trunk rattled as his car turned onto another street, the dull thump of something—someone—shifting inside making his palms slick against the steering wheel.
Seonghyeon swallowed hard and adjusted his grip, knuckles white.
"Okay," he muttered to himself. "Okay. This is fine. This is—this is temporary. I'm not a criminal. I'm just... aggressively confronting a terrible person."
Juhoon's voice echoed in his head, drunk and furious from two nights ago.
He ruined my life, Seonghyeon. I swear, if I ever see him again—
And Seonghyeon, loyal best friend that he was, had nodded along, cataloging the details. Tall. Black coat. Scar near the eyebrow. Expensive watch. Always getting into black cars like he owned the city.
So when Seonghyeon had seen a man matching that description outside the café tonight—alone, distracted, tapping at his phone like he didn't have a care in the world—something in him had snapped.
He hadn't planned the kidnapping.
But life, unfortunately, did not care about intentions.
The man in question had barely had time to react before Seonghyeon had shoved him into the trunk, slammed it shut, and driven off with his heart in his throat and his brain screaming what did you just do what did you just do what did you just do—
Now, ten minutes later, he pulled into his apartment building's underground garage and sat there, engine off, breathing like he'd run a marathon.
From the trunk came a calm, measured knock.
Tap. Tap.
Seonghyeon froze.
Then a voice—low, smooth, and annoyingly composed—cut through the silence.
"You know," the man said, muffled but clear, "most people at least ask for a ransom."
Seonghyeon stared straight ahead.
"...You can talk."
"Yes. I can also breathe," the man replied. "Which I assume you'd like to keep that way."
That was not a Juhoon's-ex thing to say.
Seonghyeon got out of the car on legs that felt like jelly and walked to the back, each step heavy with dread. His hand hovered over the trunk latch.
It's fine, he told himself. He's just confident. Some people are confident. This is fine.
He opened the trunk.
The man inside sat up smoothly, like he'd merely been inconvenienced rather than stuffed into a confined space.
His suit was immaculate despite the circumstances, dark blonde hair barely out of place. He looked up at Seonghyeon with sharp eyes—dark, assessing, and entirely unafraid.
Up close, Seonghyeon realized three things very quickly.
One: this man was not Juhoon's ex.
Two: this man was devastatingly handsome in a way that felt illegal.
Three: this man radiated the kind of danger you didn't survive by underestimating.
They stared at each other.
"...Hi," Seonghyeon said weakly.
The man tilted his head, studying him like an interesting puzzle. Then, slowly, he smiled.
"Oh," he said. "This is new."
Seonghyeon's mouth went dry. "You're—uh. You're not... Haru."
"Afraid not." The man climbed out of the trunk with unhurried grace, straightening his jacket. He stood taller than Seonghyeon, close enough that Seonghyeon could smell clean cologne and something sharper beneath it. "But you are very brave. Or very stupid."
Seonghyeon laughed. A little hysterically.
"Yeah. About that. So this is a misunderstanding—"
"Usually is," the man agreed. "May I ask why you kidnapped me?"
Seonghyeon opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Then blurted, "I thought you were my best friend's terrible ex and I was going to scare you a little but then the trunk thing happened and now I think I'm going to jail."
Silence.
Then—unexpectedly—the man laughed.
It was quiet at first, a soft exhale of amusement, before it deepened into something real. He covered his mouth with his hand, eyes crinkling as if Seonghyeon had just told him the funniest joke he'd heard all year.
"You kidnapped the wrong man," he said. "Spectacularly."
Seonghyeon's stomach dropped. "How wrong?"
The man lowered his hand, gaze locking onto his.
"My name is Martin," he said pleasantly. "And I happen to be the boss of CORTIS."
The word hit Seonghyeon like a punch.
CORTIS.
That CORTIS.
The most powerful mafia in the country.
The one with whispers attached to its name. The one people disappeared around.
Somewhere, far away, Seonghyeon's soul left his body.
"I—" he croaked. "I kidnapped you?"
Martin smiled, slow and sharp. "You did."
From somewhere above them, a car door slammed.
Footsteps echoed through the garage.
Martin's gaze flicked past Seonghyeon, amused glint turning dangerous.
"And," he added softly, "my people have just found me."
Seonghyeon squeezed his eyes shut.
"What did you say your name was?"
"I didn't," Seonghyeon squeaked.
The stranger grinned, "Well I'm asking, and I expect an answer."
"S-Seonghyeon."
"Well," Martin peered down his sunglasses at him, "Seonghyeon, are you aware you just kidnapped the boss of the most powerful mafia in the country?"
This was it.
This was how he died.
"Whoops."