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Summary
Mingyu squeezed his eyes shut, his tall frame trembling slightly from adrenaline and blood loss. The knife wound on his ribs wasn't fatal—years in the military's most elite, off-the-books black ops unit had taught him how to avoid lethal strikes—but it was deep, agonizing, and bleeding profusely. "We had to take the job, Jun. The payout was huge. If... if they ever find out who we really are, what we used to do... we need that emergency fund. We need enough to disappear completely. To take the boys and run."
Junhui’s eyes darkened at the mention of the babies. Their babies. "I know. God, I know. But if we come home dead, they won't have us at all. We need to patch up. Now. Before the husbands get back from the docks."