Chapter Text
Seungmin woke up to a violent sound.
The noise ripped through the apartment hard enough to shake him out of sleep instantly, his body jolting upright before his mind could fully catch up. He remained frozen beneath the white sheets, heart stumbling unevenly in his chest.
Then another crash echoed through the apartment, louder this time. It was clear that glass had shattered, then someone shouted in pain. Fear spread through Seungmin's nerves as he had no clue as to what was going on downstairs of his home. Beside the bed, the digital clock glowed faintly in the dark.
02:13 A.M.
Rain traced softly against the windows, quietly tapping on the glass as he tried to listen carefully. Seungmin heard a low groan, it sounded like they were in much more pain than before. Now, he was worried. Then he turned his head to see that he was alone in bed.
My husband...
Seungmin pushed the blankets aside so quickly they tangled around his legs. His bare feet hit the hardwood floor as he hurried toward the bedroom door, shoving the door as it was already slightly open. His heart beginning to pound harder with every step. The hallway beyond the room was dim except for the warm light spilling upward from downstairs, flickering strangely across the walls.
Another muffled sound was heard.
"Mmh! No! Please wait-"
His husband's voice cracked apart mid-sentence. Seungmin's chest tightened, he rushed toward the staircase, his nightrobe slightly slipping off his shoulder as he stopped dead halfway down the staircase. And finally, his eyes laid on the disaster that was presented right in front of him.
The living room looked destroyed.
One of the dining chairs had been overturned so violently that one leg had snapped off. Broken glass glittered across the floor beneath the kitchen island like scattered ice and a lamp had been knocked sideways onto the couch, its shade crushed beneath someone's boot. The air smelled faintly of cigarette smoke and blood.
And in the center of the room, Seungmin's husband was kneeling on the floor.
Two men held him down against the hardwood floor, one gripping the back of his neck while the other twisted his arm harshly behind him so that he wouldn't attack them. The men around them held up their gun towards his spouse from a distance, ready to shoot at any moment. Blood streamed from his split lip, staining the front of his white shirt in small specs of red. More smeared across his forearms where his skin had been scraped during the struggle. His hair was disheveled, breathing ragged and uneven with panic, anger and also fear.
What did they do to him?
Just hours earlier, that same man had kissed him, and fucked him relentlessly on the kitchen island while Seungmin was washing the dishes after dinner. Now, he barely looked recognizable.
"What's going on?" Seungmin asked softly.
The words escaped Seungmin breathlessly as he rushed down the remaining steps of the staircase, focusing on protecting the love of his life.
His husband looked up immediately, eyes wide with desperation, tears and blood covering his face. "Seungmin..."
There was terror in his expression.
Men stood throughout the house with unsettling stillness, dressed almost entirely in black. None of them looked afraid despite the disaster scattered across the room. They looked like they've done this many times before. One stood near the doorway with his hands clasped behind his back. Another calmly wiped blood from his knuckles using a handkerchief.
Not one of them appeared even slightly nervous.
Then his gaze shifted toward the windows and landed on a man that stood near the rain-streaked glass overlooking the city skyline, one hand tucked into the pocket of a long black coat while smoke curled from the cigarette between his fingers. The pale city lights illuminated the sharp lines of his face, damp strands of hair falling slightly over his forehead. He was very handsome, Seungmin had eyes to acknowledge that.
But even the thought made Seungmin feel sick.
That man standing inside his living room looked almost too at ease in the middle of all this chaos. Calm enough to seem detached from it entirely. His posture remained loose, almost relaxed.
The man finally shifted his eyes towards him.
Seungmin swallowed hard before crouching down towards his husband, panic overriding every instinct screaming at him to stay back.
His voice broke immediately. "What's going on?!"
One of the men tightened his grip when his husband tried moving toward Seungmin.
"Go on, tell your pretty husband what's going on," the man near the window said smoothly, inhaling his cigarette once more.
The room fell silent immediately afterward. Seungmin looked down at his husband in confusion, waiting desperately for someone to explain all of this. But the moment their eyes met, Seungmin understood that something was horribly wrong.
Because guilt flooded his husband's face.
Cold dread began crawling slowly through Seungmin's chest. As the husband stayed silent for longer, one of the men holding him down pressed a gun against his temple, forcing him to speak.
"I'm in debt," his husband said hoarsely.
Seungmin stared at him blankly. "What?"
"I can explain..."
His husband's breathing became uneven. Blood dripped from his chin onto the floor between them. The stranger stepped forward at last, polished shoes clicking softly against the broken glass.
"Your wonderful husband borrowed money," he said evenly, "from people who don't tolerate waiting on unpaid loans for too long."
Seungmin didn't understand. "No- That's impossible," he whispered instinctively.
They were comfortable... weren't they?
But suddenly memories were surfacing one after another whether he wanted them to or not.
The expensive watch his husband bought him last month despite complaining jokingly about high bills... But it wasn't serious, right? They lived in a large luxury home so Seungmin assumed his husband was well-off with inherited money, so he always thought that they would be okay financially. If it were any other day, his husband would pay for luxury hotels like it was nothing. Designer bags were left casually on the counter with a soft smile, accompanied by another luxury gift while he planted a kiss on Seungmin's lips.
'You deserve nice things.'
But then, Seungmin would remember when recently, his husband would hide his phone calls. The way those calls stopped the moment Seungmin entered their bedroom. The irritation whenever Seungmin gently asked if everything was okay. His husband always kissed him back. Always smiled and reassured him that everything was fine.
'Don't stress about me, baby. It's just work.'
It all started to make sense.
"We- we literally live in a huge house on the hills... It must be partially paid off, right? How much could you possibly owe?" Seungmin asked quietly, like he was desperately trying to make sense of it all.
"Enough to ruin the both of you, you married into his debt blindly," the stranger replied.
Seungmin blinked hard. "Both of us?"
After the wedding.
His husband had handed him documents to sign barely three days after they got married, smiling tiredly while claiming they were house-related legal forms. Seungmin remembered signing them without reading carefully because he trusted him, years of a smooth and healthy relationship made him believe that he found true love and a decent man.
But he turned out to be a liar.
Slowly, Seungmin turned toward him. His husband immediately started shaking his head, frantically making desperate movements with his feet and detained arms.
"Seungmin, my love. Listen to me, I was trying to fix it before it got worse-"
"I can't think straight right now..." Seungmin's voice cracked louder this time.
Tears gathered instantly in his husband's eyes.
"He transferred part of the ten-million-dollar debt into your name after the marriage," said the stranger.
The room seemed to tilt slightly beneath Seungmin's feet. He genuinely couldn't breathe anymore, and the wedding ring suddenly felt suffocating around his finger.
"No," Seungmin whispered weakly.
His husband started crying openly now. "Seungmin, I... I didn't know what else to do- I tried to find other ways but I couldn't..."
Seungmin physically stepped backward.
Just weeks ago they had stood together beneath warm lights and flower arrangements, promising forever in front of smiling guests while his husband held his hands and kissed him softly like Seungmin was the most precious thing in the world...
And the entire time, secrets had existed underneath his fake promises.
Now, they were in debt.
Thousands- No, Millions of dollars in debt.
The dangerous looking men stood inside their home at two in the morning because his husband owed someone money.
The stranger watched him quietly throughout all of it. "Okay, we're done wasting time."
Panic immediately overtook Seungmin's husband again. "Wait- please, please, please-"
The stranger violently kicked his husband in the stomach with full force. The other groaned in pain, spitting out blood and saliva as he hunched over, coughing loudly with a sore throat. Seungmin watched in horror, frozen in place. There was nothing he could do in this situation.
"You've had enough chances."
His husband wept, "I swear! I can pay it back..."
The man exhaled smoke slowly before answering, setting silence in the room. "I've already waited long enough."
Something desperate suddenly crossed his husband's face, he held his breath and opened his bloody mouth just slightly at a realization. His eyes landed briefly on Seungmin before he looked back at the stranger, then spoke in a shaking voice.
"Chan... Please..."
Seungmin heard the name clearly.
His husband swallowed hard before continuing. "Take Seungmin until I can pay it back."
Seungmin stared at him in disbelief. Surely he misheard-
"He's worth more than I am! I know you have many escorts," his husband said frantically. "And people would pay to sleep with him. He's pretty, and fit. He takes it so well, he-"
"Stop."
Seungmin couldn't listen to any more of his desperate husband. Every word made his heart tear open because this man had once held his face gently in both hands and promised that he would always be protected. And now he was offering Seungmin to these strangers like he's selling furniture.
Across the room, Chan finally lifted his eyes toward Seungmin's face and scanned down his body. Seungmin's pale and slim legs were exposed, only wearing satin shorts and a night robe that slipped off his shoulder. For the first time since entering the apartment, genuine interest flickered across Chan's face. And Seungmin realized that the worst moment of his life would not be learning about the debt. It would be discovering how quickly the person he loved was willing to sacrifice him to survive.
Chan did not look at Seungmin normally.
There was no softness in his gaze, no immediate lust, no fascination lingering too long on Seungmin's face despite the obvious beauty people had spent years pointing out to him. Chan's attention moved over him carefully, like evaluating expensive merchandise rather than a frightened person standing barefoot in the middle of a destroyed room.
Seungmin's breathing turned shallow as Chan slowly approached him, polished shoes stepping carefully over the shattered glass until he stopped only a few feet away.
Up close, he looked terrifying.
Rain had dampened the tip of his hair slightly, the scent of expensive cologne and cigarette smoke clinging faintly to him beneath the metallic smell of blood lingering throughout the apartment. His face made him difficult to read, though his eyes remained intensely observant.
Chan noticed hise trembling hands and his frightened breathing. The wedding ring still sitting on his finger.
"You're naive," he said softly.
Seungmin stared at him, no word slipped his lips.
"You didn't know about his debt," he said. "You signed whatever he handed you because you trusted him."
Heat flooded Seungmin's face instantly, humiliation taking over his body.
"Why does that matter to you?" he growled low.
Chan smirked, staring deeply into his eyes. "It doesn't matter to me. But, it does make your body easier to sell. You're completely broken and vulnerable."
Seungmin held his breath painfully.
Behind them, his husband spoke too quickly. "Yes, he's so good, he's so pliant and sounds so pretty..."
Seungmin turned toward him so sharply it made his vision blur. He genuinely couldn't recognize the man kneeling there. This person wore his husband's face, his husband's voice, but the man he married would never speak about him like this. Would never sit there bargaining pieces of him away in exchange for survival.
Seungmin's heart was completely shattered.
"Why," he whispered, voice trembling as his hands palmed his face.
Then suddenly he lunged towards his husband with a broken sound of grief and rage, shoving one of the men hard enough to stumble him sideways.
"How could you do this to me?!" Seungmin shouted, voice splintering apart as he gripped his collar. "How could you-"
Strong hands grabbed him instantly from behind, wrapping his wrists tightly. Seungmin fought violently against them. Panic finally overwhelmed his state of shock completely. None of this was real, he truly believed that this was a nightmare.
"Let go of me!" he screamed, twisting hard enough for pain to shoot through his arms and shoulders. "You can't do this- you can't-"
One of the men tightened his grip. "Relax."
"Don't touch me!"
His husband wouldn't even look at him in the eyes anymore. Seungmin felt hysteria clawing violently up his throat as he struggled harder, tears finally spilling down his face.
"I'm not going anywhere with you," Seungmin choked out desperately. "Please- please, I didn't do anything-"
Chan watched him quietly for a moment.
"Let him go."
The men released Seungmin immediately. He stumbled backward several steps, breathing raggedly while rubbing painfully at his wrists. Chan reached into the inside pocket of his coat and withdrew a phone; then he held it out towards him.
Seungmin stared at it without understanding.
"You have one chance to call the cops," Chan said.
The room went still. Seungmin looked between the phone and Chan uncertainly. "Are you serious?"
"Yes."
Hope hit him too fast. Seungmin snatched the phone immediately, hands shaking violently as he unlocked it. Only to freeze once he read the screen.
No signal. No emergency access.
His confusion must have shown because Chan spoke again before Seungmin could. "Even if you reached them," he said calmly, "your debt would still exist."
Seungmin slowly looked up at him, shaking.
"The signatures implicate you legally. The creditors and banks your husband borrowed from extend far beyond me. And men less patient than I am are already aware of your name, tracking every step you take."
Seungmin wanted to be shot in the head.
"You think this ends if we leave tonight?" Chan asked quietly. "I'll say it one last time... You married into his debt."
Seungmin breathed heavily, tears slipping from his eyes. "You expect me to believe you're helping me?"
Chan's expression barely changed. "I never mentioned helping you. I only expect you to understand your reality."
He took one slow step closer.
"With me," he said quietly, "you'll survive."
Chan's dark eyes remained steady on him when he continued. Though he leaned back slowly as he spoke. "Most wives in situations like yours end up dead, their organs sold to different parts of the country."
He almost puked at that last statement. Seungmin stared at him while cold fear spread carefully through every part of his body because he knew that he wasn't lying.
Seungmin looked toward his husband one final time, waiting desperately for an apology, telling him that this was some kind of sick joke.
But his husband only looked relieved.
Relieved that Seungmin might go instead of him.
By the time Chan's men escorted his husband downstairs, Seungmin no longer resisted. He finally understood that he had already lost everything the moment he signed those papers.
Rain poured steadily outside the house, cold droplets soaking instantly through the thin fabric of Seungmin's clothes as he was guided towards a sleek black car waiting at the curb. Someone opened the back door for him, so he climbed inside numbly. The interior smelled faintly of leather, smoke, and expensive cologne.
A few moments later, Chan entered beside him. The door shut softly and no one spoke as the car began moving.
Seungmin sat rigidly against the seat, staring blankly down at his trembling hands resting in his lap. His wedding ring caught briefly beneath the passing city lights as he realized how beautiful yet meaningless his marriage was. He was internally mourning it, mourning the man he thought he knew and the trust that crumbled so easily.
Seungmin spoke suddenly, but his voice was weak. "What's going to happen to him?"
"He's alive, we let him go for now," Chan sighed.
It wasn't fair.
Why wasn't he paying for his consequences?
Seungmin sighed deeply, already giving up. He was too tired to fight back or ask any more questions. Slowly, he curled his fingers as fresh tears slipped silently down his face. Nothing could make him believe that he would be okay.
And beside him, Chan watched silently.
The elevator ride afterward passed in silence.
Mirrored walls surrounded them on every side, forcing Seungmin to catch glimpses of himself. His reflection barely looked familiar anymore. Hair disheveled from rain and frantic movements, eyes swollen red, dried tears still streaking faintly across his face.
Chan looked completely fine. Perfectly composed in black clothing with his hands resting loosely in his coat pockets, as though he had simply returned from a late business meeting instead of destroying someone's marriage in just a few hours.
The penthouse doors opened directly into an enormous space drenched in soft amber lighting and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city below. Rain slid endlessly down the glass while distant skyscrapers glowed against the foggy, night sky.
The apartment was beautiful.
Marble floors with dark furniture. Expensive art lining the walls, not a thing out of place. It smelled nice too, welcoming somehow even with that same tang of cigarettes lingering in the air.
Seungmin suddenly remembered the tiny apartment he shared with his husband when they started dating, and wondered how many millions he borrowed to afford the house they bought afterwards. He should've suspected the sudden wealth.
Chan walked further inside.
One of the men lightly touched Seungmin's shoulder when he remained frozen near the entrance. "This way."
He jerked away immediately. "Don't touch me."
The man merely looked unimpressed before continuing down the hallway. Seungmin followed only because he had nowhere else to go, anger still filled his body.
The room they brought him to sat near the far end of the penthouse.
A massive bed occupied most of the space while a single narrow window overlooked the storm outside. Dark sheets covered the mattress neatly enough to resemble a hotel room. Seungmin turned sharply the moment he heard the apartment close from afar.
"This is my penthouse, you'll be staying with me." Chan said softly.
"You can't lock me in here..."
Panic surged violently through Seungmin's chest again, frantically looking around for an exit. He can't stay here, he needs to go home-
"Get some sleep," Chan said.
"No- I need to go home... I can't-"
Chan stood in the doorway of his room, one hand resting loosely against the frame. He entered his room slowly. The bedroom suddenly felt smaller with him inside it.
Seungmin backed away instinctively. "You can't just keep me in here like I'm your property."
Chan scoffed, "Tell that to your husband."
The words struck hard enough to silence him. Seungmin looked away immediately, everything was hurting. Chan observed him quietly for several seconds before his attention lowered toward his hands, the wedding ring still wrapped around his finger.
A faint, almost humorless smile touched Chan's mouth. "You're still wearing it? I thought you'd throw it out by now."
Seungmin instinctively curled his fingers inward. "It's my wedding ring."
Chan walked further into the room slowly, his gaze never leaving Seungmin. "You could sell it, pay off some of the debt before someone pays you for a quick fuck."
Seungmin stared at him in disbelief. "You're disgusting."
"And your husband is no better, you should get rid of it," Chan said finally, rolling his eyes.
His breathing became uneven again.
"You're right," Tears slipped slowly from Seungmin's eyes. "He lied to me for years. Every gift, every promise, every time he looked at me and told me he loved me..."
His voice broke apart, suddenly becoming vulnerable in front of the man that didn't treat him kindly.
Though, Chan remained silent.
Seungmin laughed weakly, the sound carried no real humor. "And I still asked if he was alive..."
Despite everything, despite the betrayal hollowing him out from the inside, Seungmin still cared whether his husband survived tonight. Love had not disappeared fast enough to save him from the pain of losing someone that wasn't even deceased.
Chan finally moved toward the door again.
"You should really get some sleep."
Seungmin stared at him in disbelief. "How am I supposed to peacefully sleep after all of this?"
Chan paused briefly. Then he answered dryly. "We have a busy day tomorrow."
Chan lingered near the doorway for only a moment longer before he stepped back into the corridor without another word. Then the door shut, and a second later, Seungmin heard the unmistakable sound of a lock clicking into place. He stood motionless in the center of the room long after the footsteps outside disappeared.
Slowly, Seungmin turned toward the bed. He sat carefully on the edge of the bed, almost hesitant to lay on it but he eventually did. The mattress dipped beneath his weight immediately, feeling soft and extremely comfortable than any bed he has laid on. He stared at the ceiling, finally thinking in silence to process what his day has turned into. That's when he started to spiral again.
Did my husband ever actually love me?
Or was he just pretty enough to marry. Trusting enough to manipulate. Naive enough to sign papers without reading them carefully.
A fresh wave of humiliation crashed through him. Seungmin pressed trembling fingers against his mouth as tears finally spilled over again. His shoulders shook violently as his reality processed in his mind. Seungmin folded forward suddenly as a broken sob tore from his chest.
None of the good memories with his husband felt safe anymore, his life had been shredded into pieces.
Exhaustion dragged him down against the pillows, he still wore the same clothes as he did when he woke up just hours ago. The blankets were warm when he pulled them around himself, absurdly soft against skin, still cold from rain and the cold air.
He hated how comfortable it felt. Hated that the bed smelled faintly clean. Seungmin tried telling himself this would not last forever. But the slow, suffocating realization that his old life might already be gone for good was stronger than his hope.
Eventually, his sobs thinned into silence, and sleep took what was left of him.
Five days.
That was how long it took for Chan to decide that Seungmin was ready to take his first client without previous notice.
But honestly, he simply failed to connect the dots.
Two staff members entered the large bedroom, carrying garment bags and neatly folded boxes without explanation. He had been sitting near the window the whole time, knees pulled loosely against his chest while gray rain drifted softly across the skyline outside, thinking he was about to leave soon. The weather had turned colder, clouds hanging low enough to make the entire city feel colorless.
They opened the first box.
White lace spilled across the bed. A night robe of delicate fabrics, silk ribbons, thin stockings and...
Lingerie.
Seungmin stared at it in complete silence.
The last five days had been spent with buying clothes, taking his body measurements, taking raw unedited pictures, getting some private health tests done, and he wasn't standing in his own room. It was so obvious what they were preparing him for, but Seungmin was too numb to actually analyze it.
Chan must've bought these pieces just for him.
One of the women avoided his eyes while carefully arranging the pieces across the dark blankets, movements quick enough to suggest she had done this many times before. A second box revealed jewelry afterward. Silver chains and leather straps, everything he's seen in porn videos and sex shops.
One of the staff members stepped closer holding the lace bodysuit carefully. "Please change quickly. The client arrives in less than an hour."
Seungmin physically recoiled. "No." His breathing began turning uneven almost immediately.
The woman hesitated. "You must change or-"
"I said no."
The sharpness in his voice startled even himself. Panic surged beneath his ribs as he stared at the clothing spread across the bed. Until now, some broken part of him had still managed convincing itself this would not happen. That Chan would change his mind and get his money back some other way, but the lingerie sitting neatly against the blankets destroyed that illusion instantly.
This was really happening.
His stomach twisted. "I'm not wearing that."
The women exchanged visibly uncomfortable glances. "Please don't make this difficult..."
Seungmin laughed weakly at that, disbelief cracking through the sound. "Those assholes break into my home, drag me here against my will, lock me inside this place for days and now Chan expects me to dress up like a whore-"
The panic finally overtook him completely as he realized that he was dangerously close to doing sex work for a living.
Seungmin shoved the nearest box violently off the bed and jewelry scattered across the floor. One of the women flinched backward.
"I'm not doing this!" Seungmin shouted, breathing ragged now. "Tell Chan I'm not fucking doing this-"
The bedroom door opened before he could continue. Chan stepped inside wearing black from head to toe, sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms.
The women immediately lowered their heads slightly before moving aside and Seungmin hated how quickly the atmosphere changed around him whenever Chan entered spaces, everyone was too obedient. His gaze moved once across the room, taking in the scattered jewelry, overturned boxes, and Seungmin's shaking hands. Then he looked at the untouched lingerie still spread across the bed.
"Leave us alone, please."
The women disappeared almost immediately. The moment the door shut behind them, Seungmin stepped backward instinctively. "I'm not doing it."
Chan walked further into the room slowly. "Listen. You never had a choice to begin with."
"I'd rather die," Seungmin growled.
Chan's expression did not change. "If you didn't want to share everything with your dear husband, then you shouldn't have signed that marriage certificate."
Seungmin's eyes darkened. "Fuck you."
Chan stopped directly in front of him. Close enough now that Seungmin could smell cigarette smoke clinging faintly to his clothes beneath his expensive cologne.
"Put it on."
"No."
Chan watched him silently for several long seconds. "I'll do it then."
Something in Seungmin snapped. "No!" he shouted, shoving hard against Chan's chest. "You don't get to just touch me without my consent-"
The movement lasted less than a second.
Chan grabbed him instantly. One strong hand wrapped around his throat before slamming him backward against the wall hard enough to knock the air from his lungs. Seungmin gasped sharply in shock as Chan pinned him there without hesitation, fingers tightening just enough around his neck, threatening his life.
"Listen to me carefully," Chan said quietly.
The calmness in his voice made it worse. Seungmin clawed weakly at Chan's wrist, breathing turning frantic beneath the pressure against his throat. Dark eyes locked onto his without pity as he struggled to breath through his airways properly.
"You can scream all you want in this building, everyone works under my orders," Chan continued, his eyes darker than ever. "You want to fight against me, then I'll fight back."
Chan's grip tightened slightly, making Seungmin squirm slightly. "But when that door opens, you will behave and spread you legs when they tell you to."
Seungmin's body trembled harder. Tears gathered instantly at the corners of his eyes from panic.
Chan leaned closer to his face. "These men are not as patient like I am. If I hand you over to them instead," he said quietly, "they will break you apart, fuck you rough and torture you slowly enough that you'll crawl back to me for help."
Seungmin stopped struggling.
Chan watched the realization settle across his face carefully. Then his hand loosened from his throat, finally letting go. The absence of pressure made Seungmin suck in air shakily while tears spilled helplessly down his face.
He never hated someone so much in his life.
Chan turned toward the bed afterward, picking up the white lace from the blankets with calm indifference while Seungmin stood frozen against the wall trying desperately to steady his breathing.
"Take your clothes off."
Seungmin stared at the floor. "I can't..."
Chan looked at him only once and something inside Seungmin folded beneath the weight of his cold threatening eyes. Slowly, trembling badly enough to make himself sick, Seungmin reached shakily for the hem of his shirt. He could barely breathe while removing it. Humiliation burned hot beneath his skin the moment Chan's eyes lowered toward him.
Tears continued sliding silently down his face while Chan approached again, fingers brushing briefly against Seungmin's waist as he pulled the lace fabric towards them.
He managed to pull his shirt over his head, but couldn't bring himself to slide his joggers off. Chan noticed and walked closer, he hooked his fingers under the waist of his pants and underwear, pulling them down carefully.
Seungmin was completely naked now.
His nipples hardened in the cool air, he looked down nervously to see his pussy exposed, trimmed hair right above it, brushing the air. Surprisingly, Chan wasn't weird about it, he didn't say anything at all. He lifted each leg up as Chan placed the underwear piece under his feet. Then, he pulled it up until it reached his hips. It rested on his hips perfectly, the elastic resting on the soft curves of his body. It was so soft, it didn't feel tight or itchy around his skin.
But it wasn't proper underwear.
The back was completely open. If he bended over, his ass would be completely exposed. That's when it hit him that it was probably for easier access. And the front was see-through lace, it was embarrassing to him even if he has worn similar pieces with his husband before.
By the time Chan finished adjusting the bra straps over his trembling shoulders, Seungmin didn't want to admit that he felt delicate and pretty. He shivered under Chan's touch, terrified of what he was about to face.
"Seungmin, look at me."
He refused to listen, refused to move.
Chan gripped his jaw sharply enough with two fingers to force eye contact anyway. "You must be submissive tonight," he said evenly, "and tomorrow it becomes easier. Just close your eyes, moan pretty and pretend it's the better side of your husband fucking you."
Seungmin wanted to spit on his face.
Instead he stood there shaking beneath the dim lighting while dressed in white lace for a stranger. Chan grabbed his wrist afterward, pain shot immediately through the joint as he dragged Seungmin behind him.
The penthouse hallways blurred around him while panic thundered violently through his chest. He stumbled twice trying to keep up with Chan's pace, stockings slipping slightly against polished floors. Nobody they passed looked surprised, none of them cared.
Chan finally dragged him out and into an elevator, they stopped outside another bedroom deeper inside the building. Darker, and much more intimate than his own bedroom at the penthouse.
The moment Seungmin saw the bed, nausea surged violently into his throat. "I really can't-" he whispered weakly.
Chan ignored him entirely.
The grip around Seungmin's wrist tightened before Chan abruptly lifted him onto the mattress with enough force to make the bed shift beneath him. Seungmin scrambled backward immediately, panic making his breathing uneven again.
"Please, Chan," he begged desperately.
Chan paused near the doorway. Seungmin thought he might actually respond. Instead, Chan only looked at him sitting there beautifully in white lace and tears beneath dimmed golden lighting.
Then he walked out. The door locked behind him.
Seungmin sat frozen on the bed afterward, arms wrapped tightly around himself while the room remained suffocatingly quiet around him. Soft jazz drifted faintly through hidden speakers somewhere overhead. The lights remained low enough to cast warm shadows across expensive furniture and dark silk sheets. It looked romantic in the sickest way possible.
Minutes passed slowly.
Then the door opened again.
An older man entered smiling warmly as though arriving for a special dinner instead of paying a sex worker for one night.
Seungmin immediately stopped breathing.
The man looked wealthy. He had an expensive watch, gray hair neatly styled, a wedding band resting comfortably against one finger. Seungmin watched him with wide eyes, curling terrified into himself on the bed. The client approached slowly, eyes lingering openly across Seungmin's body beneath the white lace.
"You're so pretty," he murmured softly.
Seungmin stared blankly at the sheets beneath him.
The man touched his face first, he tried to think about anything else. Then he kissed him softly, Seungmin's body flinched instinctively despite trying not to react. The client merely chuckled gently against his mouth like Seungmin fear was something he expected. That's why he only left a peck before doing anything more.
After that, Seungmin stopped speaking entirely.
"Don't worry. This will be quick, I only have 30 minutes," the man chuckled.
Seungmin trembled, a sudden wave of fear filled his body as the man's hands gently caressed his thin arms and slim waist.
"Turn around, it will be easier for the both of us. Chan told me that I would be your first," He said in a low voice.
Seungmin looked at him with teary eyes.
The man smirked at him. "At least I'm taking you first. I would've hated another man's hands on a body as beautiful as yours... So delicate and scared... so innocent," he said in a seductive tone.
The older man quickly grabbed Seungmin's limbs and turned him around, forcing him on all fours, pressing his head down on the pillow as he shoved his legs open.
"Mhm- No, please don't-" Seungmin whimpered softly.
The man chuckled softly, "That's what I like to hear, baby," the cold hand slowly pressed againsts his cunt, sliding from his clit to his asshole softly.
Seungmin tensed up immediately, his heart racing as the large fingers continued to slide in between his folds. He released soft moans as tears slid down his face, twitching slightly as he tried to stay still just like Chan said. He was too scared to fight back, the man was much bigger than him.
"I love fucking cunts like yours," the man groaned as he slowly inserted his finger inside Seungmin's entrance.
"No... Please..." Seungmin said with a gasp.
It wasn't just one finger, two fingers were slotted into his pussy, then suddenly he felt a cold liquid pour on his skin. He jolted briefly, releasing a soft surprised sound as he clenched the pillow under his head, his toes curled at the intrusion.
"It sounds like you're begging," The man thrusted his fingers inside Seungmin's cunt with a faster rhythm, pushing into him with force without hesitation as Seungmin released a whimpering cry. It was too fast and too sudden.
"Ack! No... Slow- slow down please- Mhm-" Seungmin sobbed into the pillow.
It wasn't extremely painful, it was just too much. The fingers that rubbed his insides were larger than his husband's, the force was much more experienced than his husband's. Seungmin could hear his pussy liquids squelching with every pump. His legs trembled as his body slowly became aroused by the scissoring motions of the man's large digits. He didn't like it, he didn't want to like it but the fingers abusing his pussy were the perfect size, curving at the right angle as they finally reached his sensitive spot.
"Oh- fuck!" Seungmin moaned softly, rolling his eyes to the back of his head as the stranger started to suck on his clit, all while fingering him roughly.
The building arousal was inevitable. Seungmin arched his back, feeling his lower abdomen boil as the man sucked and licked him with determination for several minutes. He shook violently, feeling his folds burn from the abuse. Suddenly, the man slipped his fingers out and abandoned his clit, and gave his pussy a quick slap, making his ass recoil from the contact.
"Mhph-" Seungmin moaned high-pitched into the pillow, his cheeks red with dry tears stains.
He doesn't know if they were from feeling terrified or from feeling overstimulated. His mind was clouded, his thoughts were no longer organized. He breathed heavily, hearing rustling clothes behind him. His legs barely held him up, he was shaking as his body was starting to betray him as every minute passed.
A cockhead pressed against Seungmin's pulsing pussy, the stretch immediately sending a terrified wave down his body. Seungmin's moan tore through the room as the stranger pushed the tip in roughly, enough to make Seungmin's thighs tremble harder. The burn was unbearable, his hole stretched beyond capacity, his sobs turning jagged as the man's hips met his ass with a wet slap.
The moment the stranger snapped his hips forward, Seungmin's mind was somewhere else. Moaning rhythmically as the man groaned above him, holding his hips tightly as he pulled him back to meet every thrust with full force. Seungmin's breathing was broken, barely able to catch up with every agonizing penetration.
Then he spaced out, completely feeling his body and his mind seperate as arousal and fear made his body feel confused.
Several minutes later, the man pulled out, emptying his sperm in the condom that Seungmin didn't even realize he had on. He let his body go limp once the man let him go, breathing heavily as he twitched from his orgasm. His pussy throbbed, it clenched at nothing as his lower abdomen finally felt the release that it needed.
At least it was over.
"Here's some extra cash," the man whispered, tossing a few hundred bills on the pillow in front of his face. "I already paid Chan the full price."
When the man left, Seungmin laid on his back, still dressed in the white lace wondering at what exact moment his life had become unrecognizable.
Seungmin hated Chan after the first client.
The hatred made his chest ache every time Chan entered a room afterward. It lived inside every trembling breath he took while sitting silently in the backseat of Chan's car, every flinch when the unfamiliar hands touched him, his body sore from the rough penetration, every humiliating second spent staring at himself in the mirror while trying to recognize the person he was before.
After the second client, the hatred deepened.
This was not temporary, he was not escaping this even if he cried hard or begged long enough. Chan would ignore him, he let him cry and plea until it became less frequent. Seungmin slowly started to accept it, even if he didn't want to.
This was his life now.
By the sixth client, Seungmin stopped wondering whether he could hate Chan more. The answer was always yes.
Yet somehow, that hatred began intertwining itself with dependency over the following weeks.
The first two weeks passed slowly.
Seungmin struggled remembering clearly afterward. His mind blurred everything together into disconnected pieces of exhaustion and expensive hotel ceilings and city lights sliding across tinted car windows late at night.
He adapted without meaning to. His body learned survival faster than his heart could keep up with, tolerating the ugly low grunts close to his ear and the disgusting, older, sweaty bodies. Their smelly cum on his chest after a blowjob, cum in his eyes or the bitter taste in his mouth. Seungmin somehow was able to tolerate it and numb his own mind during the experience sometimes.
Chan drove him personally whenever clients requested Seungmin outside the building.
At first, Seungmin assumed it was another form of control, his way of handling things. Another reminder that every occurrence in his life now belonged to Chan.
He spent those drives curled tightly against the passenger door. Chan rarely attempted conversation during those rides. Sometimes music played softly through the speakers but mostly it was just silent. Only the sound of rain and the distant car honks in traffic filled the air tonight.
Seungmin preferred the silence.
Talking felt unbearable after meeting the older clients. He often returned feeling disconnected from his own body. The city outside the windows would continue moving normally while he sat there with trembling hands folded tightly in his lap, holding onto his own arms, trying not to think too hard about his aching pussy or his swollen lips, or how easily these strangers manhandled him, or how rough they held onto his hips.
Chan never pressured him to speak, and because of that, the silence started feeling safe.
And recently, Chan almost always took him somewhere private before returning to the penthouse.
Restaurants so expensive Seungmin stopped looking at the menus entirely after the first few nights. They would enter hidden entrances, private dining rooms tucked behind dark hallways and velvet curtains where no one disturbed them. Seungmin would sit there exhausted and emotionally numb in designer clothing somebody else had chosen for him while waiters placed Michelin-starred dishes in front of them with a polite smile. He wondered if they realized his exhausted mental state, he wondered if they would help him escape or if they already knew about Chan's sex ring.
Meanwhile Chan handled phone calls between bites of food, like his evening resembled any other business night.
His voice remained low and composed during the conversations involving money, clients, schedules, names Seungmin never recognized. Sometimes Chan's tone sharpened subtly when discussions irritated him, though he never fully lost control. He never heard him raise his voice, not even towards him.
The distance between them during those dinners slowly became familiar.
Comfortable, even.
They simply existed across from each other beneath warm restaurant lighting while expensive wine sat untouched beside his plate and soft elegant piano music drifted quietly through the room. The strange peace of those moments frightened him deeply. Because sometimes, sitting there watching Chan loosen the sleeves of his black dress shirt while listening absently to another phone call, he almost forgot to feel afraid.
Seungmin simply ate as his mind was blank, enjoying the savory food as the wine finally relaxed his tensed muscles.
Then they would return to the penthouse.
And Chan would thoroughly clean him.
The first time he did it was after a rough client, Seungmin nearly slapped his hand away instinctively when chan leaned in closer with a wet wipe, "I can do it myself."
Chan ignored him completely but stayed silent.
He stood in front of him, Seungmin sat on the edge of the bathroom counter, on a towel, while Chan carefully dampened another smaller towel beneath warm water. Seungmin sat rigidly in silence wearing nothing except one of Chan's loose black t-shirts while bruises darkened faintly beneath his arms and collarbone.
Chan gently tilted his chin upward.
"You're bleeding, were they aggressive?" Chan asked calmly while pressing the damp fabric on his small arm injury. It wasn't anything extreme to worry about.
Seungmin flinched away, hissing softly.
"Hey, I'm just disinfecting it," Chan said.
Seungmin just rolled his eyes, "It stings..."
So Chan was more careful, even though he didn't get a response, he let it slide.
Seungmin hated himself for noticing how warm Chan's hands were. How impossibly gentle they were for someone capable of violently beating someone close to death. He has never heard or witnessed Chan kill someone, maybe the men that worked for him did it. Either way, Seungmin was clueless about how any of this worked.
In his mind, Chan wasn't as evil as he thought.
Chan cleaned every small scrape carefully afterward, cleaning the dried mixed liquids in between his thighs, and around his crotch area. Applying pain ointment on his bruised wrists, and fingertip-shaped marks left behind after rough handling. Soothing the sting from the light scratches running faintly along Seungmin's thighs and waist where rough hands had grabbed too harshly. The ointment always felt cool against his overheated skin.
Chan always warned him that these were 'Special clients', not just ordinary men paying for a prostitute. He had to tolerate as much as he could just for the high pay, as these men were also involved in Chan's violent and cruel world. They needed an outlet for their stress and tension, and they were ruthless, but still, Chan had rules that kept Seungmin alive.
As his mind wandered, Seungmin usually stared somewhere over Chan's shoulder during those moments because direct eye contact wasn't an option.
Slowly, it felt like Chan knew what he was thinking or how he was feeling. He noticed every new injury, and every slight limp after particularly difficult nights. Even when he asked Seungmin a question, his minor expression and gestures gave it away. Seungmin liked it because that meant that he didn't need to speak when he was to exhausted.
But it was clear that nothing escaped Chan.
Other escorts existed inside Chan's world, beautiful men and women walked through Chan's building voluntarily in expensive clothing with fake smiles and tired eyes, some rarely excited.
Seungmin occasionally crossed paths with them during late morning or quiet evenings in their own building, but it was rare since they usually stayed at the escort house. Most looked at him curiously, noticing that Chan was always by his side, and few even tried speaking to him.
One particularly beautiful woman invited Seungmin to drink with them one night after noticing how isolated he was as the only male escort, saying that they would love to be friends him. They were completely oblivious of his debt. Then, Chan would shut the idea down immediately.
"He's busy, don't insist."
The others exchanged glances before quietly dropping the subject entirely.
Later that night, Chan drove them home.
Seungmin took this as an opportunity to question Chan, ask why he won't let him adapt into his world if he was forced into it. "Why don't you let them near me? Aren't they also your escorts?"
Chan kept his eyes on the road. "You don't have the money to do what you want."
"You can hold off my debt for one hour... They probably just want to be friends and talk over some drinks," Seungmin would reply, pressing his head againsts the car window.
"They're not your potential friends. They do sex work for a living, you're barely open to the idea of this lifestyle," Chan said bluntly.
And he wasn't wrong. Seungmin turned toward the rain-covered window afterward pretending not to notice the strange warmth curling low in his stomach because Chan did not isolate the others that way.
Only him.
That realization became more dangerous with every passing day. Especially because Chan cared for him constantly with proper food, new clothes, constant baths and massages.
If Seungmin skipped meals during an emotionally rough day, Chan noticed and food would appear beside his bed without discussion afterward. Soup was prepared during sleepless nights. Tea whenever anxiety made his body shake too badly. Medication was left quietly on his bedside table with a glass of water after complaining about a headache or an upcoming panic attack.
Once, after Seungmin spent nearly an hour vomiting from stress and exhaustion following a particularly rough client, he woke later that evening to find electrolyte drinks lined neatly beside the bed and Chan sitting silently near the window scrolling on his phone, like he was waiting to watch him sleep.
Not even his ex-husband was this attentive.
The nightmares became worse, nearly a month later.
Seungmin started waking violently in the middle of the night with panic clawing through his chest hard enough to make breathing difficult. Some nights he managed staying alone in his room.
Others, he couldn't bear it.
Without fully meaning to, Seungmin began drifting toward Chan's office after those nightmares. Chan no longer locked his bedroom, he locked the main door of the penthouse instead. Of course, security was standing outside at every minute of the day.
Seungmin only intended to sit there briefly until the panic passed, letting Chan work and tend his calls. Either way, Chan never sent him back to his room or questioned why he was there.
The office became strangely comforting after midnight.
Warm desk lighting, with the scent of leather, whiskey, paper, and cigarette smoke lingering softly through the room while Chan worked quietly behind his desk. Seungmin would curl silently on the soft couch wrapped in his blanket while trying to steady his breathing, listening to Chan's voice.
Sometimes Chan glanced over briefly before returning to work, sometimes he handed Seungmin water without telling him, it was until exhaustion finally pulled Seungmin back asleep.
And every single time Seungmin woke hours later, reappearing in his own bed. He would blush at the idea of Chan carrying him to bed, it was embarrassing but at the same time endearing to think that a man like Chan would look after him in that way.
Inevitably, Seungmin started to crave his attention.
The penthouse overlooked half of the city.
Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city in gold and rainlight while classical music drifted softly through hidden speakers overhead. Everything inside the suite looked expensive. Dark marble floors, antique sculptures, crystal glasses resting untouched beside an open bottle of wine that probably cost more than Seungmin's old apartment rent.
The man he was to meet tonight looked just as polished, he seemed younger than his other clients, immaculately dressed. The kind of man magazines photographed while describing him as perfection. Seungmin recognized him as a model, his name was a blur. Though it wasn't his fault, the man was secretive about his life.
Now, he understood why.
Chan had warned him quietly before the encounter. "He's demanding, but he knows his limits."
Seungmin had nodded silently from the passenger seat while trying to ignore the nervousness that dragged in his body. He was tired, soul-deep tired from all of this.
The client greeted him warmly at first.
He's attractive, and he's definitely in his thirties. His hands were lingering too long against Seungmin's waist while smiling down at him with a certain eerie charm. Seungmin forced himself to smile back softly from the edge of the bed.
The man poured him wine.
Seungmin didn't drink it, he left it untouched.
It was a different encounter, the client spoke confidently about his investments and fashion magazines over the phone while stealing glances at Seungmin like he didn't just pay thousands to have him there for two hours. Seungmin stared at him like a patient puppy, sitting obediently for his owner.
Eventually, the touching started.
A hand resting heavily against Seungmin's bare thigh, fingers brushing slowly against his neck. A kiss pressed carelessly against his mouth while the client murmured, "You're prettier than Chan described. You're so thin, I could easily break you."
Seungmin swallowed hard and stayed quiet until-
Slap.
A hard smack landed on his cheek unexpectedly.
"Don't stay quiet, baby. Moan for me."
No one slapped him before, it wasn't permitted either. Seungmin looked at him with wide eyes, tears threatening his eyes, and he was pulled in for a rough kiss. It wasn't pleasant at all, Seungmin had turned his face away slightly at a sudden pulse of pain, more instinct than rejection as the man bit his lip too roughly.
Slap.
And the impact sharply sounded across the room before he fully processed what happened. Another sting. Pain exploded hot through the same cheek, it now turned into another shade of red as Seungmin held his breath. For a second, everything went still, Seungmin gulped as a sudden wave of fear engulfed his body.
The client sighed impatiently. "Don't do that again. I spent a lot of money on you," he said in a low threatening tone.
Seungmin stared at the floor as his face burned violently. Part of him wanted to leave immediately but he knew that he couldn't do anything to change how this night would end.
After that, things worsened gradually.
The client grabbed him too hard. He pressed bruises into Seungmin hips and wrists while kissing him with ugly, possessive force that left his mouth aching afterward, bitting his skin hard, making Seungmin release pathetic moans and painful whimpers.
The man pulled back, staring at his reddened cheek and the bite marks on his neck, he laughed softly at what he had created.
"You bruise easily," he said as he pressed down on the new sore bruise on his arm.
"Ow-" Seungmin complained softly.
The model easily tossed Seungmin further onto the bed, he quickly removed his clothes and grabbed lube from under his drawer. It happened all too quickly. Now naked, he crawled towards Seungmin, his big throbbing cock was terrifying.
Then the man straightened his back, and uncapped the bottle to squirt some of the clear lube directly on Seungmin's pussy. The cool liquid spread on his cunt, the man only needed to hook one of Seungmin's legs over his shoulder as he pressed his hand on his folds instantly, spreading the cold lube around his cunt. The man then adjusted his position, leveling his hips to Seungmin's entrance.
"Wait- I need to-" Seungmin stammered nervously.
He wasn't prepped, he fingered himself earlier just in case but still, it probably wasn't enough. The man's lubed hand pressed against his neck, stopping him from talking. Seungmin held his breath, not choking but saliva caught in his throat. He struggled to breath properly, holding his breath.
"You don't have a say. I can do whatever I want, fucking bitch," he growled with an evil smirk.
Seungmin's body shivered in pure terror. His eyes teared up, something that didn't happen during sex since the first client.
He cried out at the sudden penetration, the sound turning into a loud sob as the large cock pressed against his pussy roughly. Seungmin's painful moans shattered the air when he penetrated him with another brutal thrust, the pain was overwhelming. His vision blurred, tears slipping from his eyes. He felt like he was being brutally ripped apart. Seungmin's breathing was shaky, jagged exhales as he struggled. Trying to hold back from shoving the man away from him.
The man groaned with a satisfied smile, his hips pressed fully against Seungmin's trembling thighs. "Fuck," he hissed, "You're taking my fucking cock so well. I can't wait to fill you up."
He didn't wait for Seungmin to adjust as he pulled out halfway and slammed back in, forcing another ragged cry from Seungmin's throat. The rhythm was punishing, each thrust jolting Seungmin, as he was lifted and forced to arch his back. His hands were rough, leaving painful red marks on his hipbones as he pulled him, meeting every thrust with a painful slap of skin.
"You look so beautiful being ripped apart like a fucking slut," the man groaned.
Every drag of the stranger's cock inside him was hot like fire and friction. Seungmin couldn't space out like he usually did, the pain was overwhelming, every thrust was too much for his own body to handle.
"Please- ah!" he would cry, panting.
The man slapped his face once more, and Seungmin twitched at the sudden burning pain on his face.
"Shut up," he growled.
Just as he said it, something warm started to drip from Seungmin's nose. He reached for his own nose, and looked at his hand, it was blood.
It wasn't a lot, but it was there.
Tired of Seungmin's stubbornness to stay still, the man stills his thrusts before wrapping his hands around Seungmin's throat, pressing down as he slowly starts to lose air. Seungmin's hands instinctively reached forward, his fingernails scratching the mans arms as he tries to ease the pressure on his throat.
The model adjusted his body, hovering right above him as he presses dangerously harder, thrusting rapidly as Seungmin releases a terrified gasp. He thrusted into him faster and deeper than before. Seungmin is starting to suffocate and just when he does, he clenches harder around the cock abusing his hole.
"Fuck, you're so tight around me," The man groaned.
Finally he released Seungmin's throat. He coughed out chasing the air, feeling his pussy tighten at every thrust. Seungmin tried to catch up his own breathing, but it was impossible as every thrust was forcing air out of his lungs just as hard.
"I wish I could last longer, you're so fucking hot," The man groaned as Seungmin released more strangled cries, tears slipping down his cheek as the blood starts to dry on his nose. His arms wrap around his own upper body protectively to stay still and obedient.
"Ah- Please, just cum-" Seungmin begged softly.
He just wanted all of this torture to end.
"Fuck. With those pretty tears, and pretty cries. I will be cumming inside you soon."
Seungmin sobbed, his body tightened around the length thrusting into him as he tried to hold back his tears. The man chuckled, his breath hitching as his fingernails dig into Seungmin's hips as his thrusts turned erratic.
"Beg for my cum, slut," He snarled low.
His cock pulsed inside Seungmin, thick and unforgiving, as he buried himself deeply with a loud groan that vibrated through Seungmin's spine. He whimpered again, the heat coiling low in his stomach.
Then the man above him stilled as he came.
That's when he realized that he wasn't wearing a condom. The warm, thick sperm squirted inside his walls, his cock pulsed inside Seungmin as it emptied inside him. Seungmin's vision blurred as he fucked him through it, each snap of his hips forcing the cum in deeper.
But then he withdrew abruptly, his cock sliding free with a filthy, wet sound that made Seungmin's stomach lurch. Cum dripped from his abused hole down his trembling thighs, the sensation obscenely warm against his skin.
When it finally ended, the client was more than satisfied, as though he did nothing cruel.
Seungmin dressed slowly afterward with trembling hands, trying not to react when soreness flared sharply between his legs and softly sucking on his own bleeding lower lip. His left cheek had already begun darkening faintly purple.
The client noticed when he took a quick glance at his pretty, fucked out face. "You should clean up before Chan sees it," he chuckled. "I will get blacklisted if he finds out that one of his pretty dolls was fucked up again."
Seungmin nodded automatically, wiping the dry blood from his nose. The man smiled like they shared some private understanding.
By the time he left the suite, it was nearly two in the morning. The hotel hallway felt cold and too bright after the dim warmth inside the stranger's penthouse. Seungmin kept one hand pressed subtly against his chest while limping slightly toward the private elevators.
I just want to go to bed...
His breathing remained shallow as the elevator doors opened onto the underground parking level.
Chan stood beside the car waiting in his black coat, hands in his pockets. Seungmin felt instant relief when he saw him standing there. But, he knew that he had to straighten his posture, turn his face away, hide the limp and keep quiet about the client.
Clients got rough sometimes.
Seungmin had to tell himself again and again.
So he lowered his head and walked forward silently, trying not to wince when another sharp ache ran through his hip. Chan opened the passenger seat door and caught a glimpse of his cheek despite the low lighting. He placed a hand on Seungmin's shoulder, stopping him from moving.
"What happened to your face?"
Seungmin looked away automatically. "Nothing."
Chan stepped closer, alert. His cold fingers caught Seungmin jaw before he could avoid him, tilting his face upward beneath the harsh garage lighting. The bruise looked worse now. Dark purple spreading slowly beneath pale skin.
Silence settled heavily between them.
Chan's expression did not visibly change at first, but something dangerous moved behind his eyes, like he knew exactly what happened.
"He hit you, didn't he? There's blood on your lips, your cheeks are swollen," his thumb gently swiped under his nostrils. "Your eyes are red, and your nose was bleeding..."
Seungmin swallowed hard. "It's fine," he said as he tried his best to hold back his tears.
The lie barely left him before Chan's gaze dropped lower. To the rough bruises around Seungmin's neck and hidden under his collar, this was worse than normal. The temperature inside the parking garage seemed to drop several degrees while Chan slowly released his face. Chan's eyes filled with anger, his eyebrows straightened and pressed together as he clenched his jaw, his breathing becoming uneven as rage filled him completely.
"Stay here. I'll be right back."
That frightened Seungmin more than yelling would have. Chan turned immediately afterward and walked back toward the elevators without another word. Seungmin' eyes followed him desperately.
"Chan, wait-"
The elevator doors had already closed.
Panic surged through Seungmin chest. He had never seen Chan move emotionally before, he has never seen him so furious.
The elevator ride upstairs took less than a minute.
When Chan entered the suite again, the client barely looked surprised. He sat comfortably near the fireplace pouring himself another drink while still wearing an expensive silk robe loose on his body.
"Fuck, I knew you'd come up. I beat him up pretty bad," he sighed, with an arrogant sarcastic tone.
Chan looked at him with darkened eyes, "You've been almost blacklisted before... But now, you really fucked up."
The client laughed lightly. "Oh, don't be dramatic. Your pretty little thing just bruises easily," his amusement faded slightly before continuing, "Pimps like you only pretend to care. You're selling his body for my pleasure, right?"
Then the client smirked again, evil this time.
"He was beautiful while crying. I would've gone further if I could, make him cry harder with that pretty little mouth, gagging around my cock."
The first punch landed hard enough to knock him backward against the marble table. Everything afterward happened terrifyingly fast. Chan crossed the room like violence had finally slipped its leash inside him. The second hit split the man's mouth open instantly.
Blood sprayed across white marble flooring while the client shouted in shock, stumbling blindly backward trying to recover. "You fucking psycho-"
Chan grabbed him by the throat before he could finish. He slammed the man violently against the wall, glass shattered nearby.
"You won't live to see another day," Chan threatened quietly, tightening his grip.
The client's eyes widened in fear.
But even now, while choking, the man still tried using his useless fame like a shield. "Do you know who I am? You can't kill me."
Chan punched his ribs harder than ever. Hard enough to crack something in his body, making the man groan in pain as blood covered the floor completely as he groaned loudly.
"You think your men scare me? They worked for me before," Chan said with an evil grin. "They'll cover up your death for me."
Blood covered his knuckles now.
The client struggled weakly beneath his grip. "Wait-"
Another punch after another brutal hit.
Seungmin stood frozen near the doorway, just watching in horror since after the first hit, frozen in place while blood splattered across marble and shattered crystal beneath Chan's shoes.
His mind wandering how it got to this and why Chan was acting like a maniac. He knows well that he wouldn't react the same way for any other escort.
Seungmin was different, and he just came to realize that.
He punched the man again, and the sound of it seemed to break something deeper than bone. Seungmin flinched so hard his shoulder struck the doorframe.
"Chan, stop," Seungmin whispered softly, tears slipping for the tenth time that night.
Chan did not hear him. Or maybe he did, and he only did what his mind was telling him to, something Seungmin had only ever glimpsed in the quiet threats behind his smile.
The client slid halfway down the wall, coughing, choking on blood and fear. His hands clawed weakly at Chan's wrist, trying to pry him away.
"Mercy, please," he gasped.
It was the first honest thing he had said all night. Chan crouched in front of him slowly, one knee pressing into the marble between the man's legs, his black coat falling open around him like a shadow. His breathing was rough, controlled only by force, and his knuckles were split open where blood ran down between his fingers.
"You're dying tonight," Chan said quietly.
The client sobbed, shaking his head.
Seungmin's stomach turned violently as Chan threw another punch. He pressed a hand over his mouth, unable to move, unable to look away. The world had narrowed down to the wet sound of impact, the man's fading gasps, and Chan's horrifying silence between each strike. There was no rage in him. Chan was not screaming he wasn't losing control in the way people did when anger overwhelmed them.
He looked like he had already made the decision to witness his last breath before stepping into the room.
The client stopped begging after a while. His body slumped heavily against the wall, head tipped at an unnatural angle, his chest rising once, twice, then barely at all. Chan grabbed him by the collar and leaned close, his voice low enough that Seungmin did not hear it. The man's mouth moved soundlessly and Chan stared at him for one final second.
Then he let go.
The body dropped to the marble, lifeless.
Chan remained still, standing over him with blood on his shirt, his hands, his throat where it had splattered warm against his skin. His chest rose and fell heavily beneath his dress shirt, but his face had gone empty again, frighteningly calm now that the violence had ended.
Seungmin stood by the doorway, shaking. He had seen cruel men before, but Chan was different. Chan had not hurt that man because he enjoyed suffering, he had hurt him because Seungmin had suffered.
Slowly, Chan turned. His eyes found Seungmin immediately and the darkness in his face softened. Something almost human flickered there, something worried and raw beneath all the blood.
"Seungmin," he said quietly, almost guilty.
Seungmin took one step back before he could stop himself.
Behind him, the private elevator doors opened with a muted chime. Three of Chan's men entered without needing to be told. None of them reacted to the body on the floor. One moved toward the windows and drew the curtains closed. Another pulled on gloves. The third looked at Chan once, then immediately gave him a nod.
"Clean it," Chan ordered, like it was normal.
Seungmin watched them work around the body like they've done this many times before, and the truth settled into him slowly. Chan knew exactly how powerful he was.
Chan stepped toward him and Seungmin stumbled back again, breathing catching sharply in his throat. Chan looked unsure of what to do with his hands, they hung at his sides, red and ruined, as if he had only just remembered what they looked like.
"Let's head back to the car," Chan said softly.
Seungmin's eyes burned. "You killed him because of me," he whispered.
He turned toward the men cleaning blood from white marble, toward the place where the client had abused and violated him only minutes before. His chest tightened until every breath hurt.
Chan followed his gaze, then looked back at him. "He would have done it again," he said, voice lower now. "To you. To someone else. Men like him only get worse. It's not just about sex, it's much darker than that. Go back to the car."
Seungmin shook his head faintly, tears spilling before he could stop them. "But why did-"
Something flickered across Chan's face.
Then he took off his blood-stained coat and threw it aside. He reached for Seungmin carefully, slowly enough that Seungmin could move away if he wanted to. Seungmin did not move but he also did not lean closer to the man in front of him. Chan's hand hovered near his bruised cheek, trembling slightly before he forced it still.
"Let's go home," Chan said as his jaw tightened.
Seungmin let out a broken breath that almost became a sob. Chan was standing there covered in another man's blood because of him, speaking softly like he had only done what needed to be done, like the corpse behind him was nothing more than a mess to be handled.
Still, when Chan stepped aside and gave him a clear path to the elevator, Seungmin walked forward on unsteady legs. He passed close enough to smell blood and cologne on him, close enough to feel the heat of Chan's body, close enough for Chan to catch him when his injured hip buckled.
But Chan did not touch him. He simply walked beside him, one bloodied hand hovering uselessly near Seungmin's back.
Neither of them spoke on the way home.