Chapter 28 Elise
TWENTY-EIGHT
ELISE
TWO WEEKS LATER…
The city unravels before us as Gun navigates the evening traffic, familiar Seoul landmarks sliding past my window like scenes from a movie I’ve watched a hundred times.
The Han River glitters under the setting sun, office buildings stacked like dominoes against the skyline, neon signs already beginning their nightly performance.
I lean my head against the cool glass, sunglasses perched on my nose even though the light is fading. My duffel bag sits at my feet, still smelling vaguely of saltwater and sunscreen.
Two weeks of beach living will do that to you.
Gun’s hands are relaxed on the steering wheel, one arm draped casually as he merges lanes like he knows these streets like the back of his hand. He’s wearing a plain black t-shirt and jeans, his hair tousled and windswept.
He looks good. Sexier and more attractive than ever.
But also rested. Different from the man who fled the city with me in a haze of blood and chaos.
We both do.
We needed the time away more than we realized.
The silence between us is comfortable after what we’ve been through. Any tension or unspoken accusations have vanished.
Only the hum from the engine and the distant sounds of the city fill the silence between us.
We’ve been through so much together that there’s an implicit trust now.
I trust him with my life, and he feels the same.
It’s something brand new for me, someone who’s always pushed everyone around me away…
“You know,” Gun says, breaking the quiet as we pull off the highway toward Pangyo. “I forgot how loud it is here. The beach spoiled me.”
I glance over at him, one eyebrow raised above my sunglasses. “You? The big bad mafia captain, spoiled by a little peace and quiet?”
“Two weeks of peace and quiet,” he corrects with a small smile. “That’s practically a lifetime in our world.”
“Good point.”
“Returning to civilization. Guess every day can’t be paradise.”
I can’t help but laugh at the heavy sigh he gives.
“Civilization,” I repeat, peering out at the congested streets, the apartment complexes stacked on top of each other, the convenience stores glowing on every corner. “Is that what we’re calling this?”
“Would you prefer organized chaos?”
“More accurate.”
“Then organized chaos it is.” He pulls into the parking garage of his building—our building now—and cuts the engine. He turns to look at me, his expression earnest in the dim garage lighting. “You ready?”
I nod, pulling off my sunglasses and meeting his gaze. “Yeah. I think I am.”
And for the first time ever, I mean it.
I’m ready for this new beginning. For this next chapter in my life.
The ‘what comes after’ all the revenge and bloodthirst I never allowed myself to think about before.
We grab our bags and head toward the elevator, shoulders brushing as we walk. The city hums above us, alive and indifferent to what we’ve survived. But standing here next to Gun, keys jingling in his hand as he hits the button for our floor, I realize something.
Home isn’t here. It isn’t the beach. It isn’t some peaceful escape from reality.
Home is wherever he is.
After a lifetime of betrayals and violence, we’ve become that for each other.
Over the next few days, Gun and I focus on settling back into the rhythm of our daily lives in Seoul. Gun’s forced to face the music at the Cheongryong while I have to confront a different kind of mess in the aftermath of everything that’s happened.
One of the biggest messes being my friendship with Priscilla and our loss of KD.
We meet at a café near Seoul National University. It’s exactly the kind of place Priscilla would pick, with its mismatched furniture, large plants, and fairy lights.
Some bubbly indie pop song plays on the speakers that’s surprisingly catchy.
I spot her before she sees me, tucked into a corner table with an oversized mug cradled in her hands. She’s in one of her infamous anime t-shirts with a freshly drawn cat eye, but it can’t disguise the grief she still holds after KD’s death.
When she looks up and our eyes meet, she doesn’t smile and wave the way the old Priscilla would. Instead she gives a nod hello and waits for me to wander over.
I slide into the seat across from her, suddenly unsure how to start. We’ve shared an apartment for almost a year, yet here we are, sitting in broad daylight surrounded by oblivious students and their textbooks, unsure how to even speak to each other.
“Um, how are you doing?” I ask finally, my tone meeker than I intended. “After... after KD? And everything else.”
Her expression hardens. She stares into the contents of her mug. “Why do you want to know?”
“Because I care.”
“We’re not friends, Elise,” she retorts. “Right? You made that pretty clear.”
I take a breath, forcing myself to be vulnerable for once. “I know. And I deserve that.”
She glances up at me but otherwise says nothing. Not giving an inch.
It’s more than deserved. I’ve iced her out from the moment I moved in.
But it was never about Priscilla. It was my own deep-rooted issues that caused me to push everybody in my life away.
“I kept my walls up too long,” I admit, sighing.
“I pushed you away every time you tried to get close. I acted like I didn’t need anyone, like caring about people made me weak.
And nobody could really be trusted. But you stayed anyway.
You patched me up, over and over. You were there when I needed you, even when I pretended I didn’t. ”
“Eli…” she murmurs.
“So thank you,” I say, and I mean it. “For being my friend even when I didn’t deserve one.”
She’s quiet for a long moment, fingers tracing the rim of her mug. When she finally speaks, her tone is pensive. “You were never an easy person to care about, Eli. But I cared anyway.”
“Let me return the favor. Let me be your friend and patch you up sometimes.”
“I’m not sure anybody can. Losing KD… it’s just… it’s part of reality now. There’s no going back.”
“I miss him,” I admit somberly. “KD. I still hear his laugh sometimes, or the way he used to tease me before a mission. That stupid grin when he knew he was getting under my skin.”
Priscilla’s dark eyes glisten before she quickly looks away, blinking hard. “Yeah,” she whispers, voice strained. “Yeah, me too.”
“I’m sorry. For what happened. For—”
“Don’t. It wasn’t your fault,” she interrupts, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. A tear escapes anyway, trailing down her cheek. She lets out a shaky laugh. “God, I promised myself I wasn’t going to cry today.”
I wait, giving her space.
“I fell in love with him. He was just… he was a really great guy. He made me laugh and was always so attentive. He really made me feel special.” She pauses long enough to sniffle and reach for a napkin to dab at her face.
“But I know he was really in love with you, Eli. You were the girl of his dreams.”
“What? Cilla, I—”
“I know,” she goes on with a bittersweet smile. “You didn’t feel the same about him. It’s just how things were. But I still love him anyway. He died a hero. He chose to protect you. And it’s wrong for me to blame you for that.”
“You can blame me if you need to…” I mumble, the guilt so thick inside me I can barely meet her eyes.
She shakes her head. “No. He made his choice. And I have to live with it.” She takes a shaky breath, composing herself. “I’m moving closer to campus. Already found a place.”
The news shouldn’t surprise me, but it does anyway. My brows jump, a tremor of surprise flickering through me as if I haven’t already made my own new living arrangements.
“When?”
“Next month. I need space. Time to heal. Some distance from all this.”
I nod, understanding even as it hurts. “Just don’t disappear on me.”
“I won’t,” she says. “But I’m finally going to do what’s best for me. Not what everyone else needs. Plus, I’ll be closer to SNU for my classes.”
“I like that you’re putting yourself first, Cilla.”
“You should try it sometime.”
“I’m working on it,” I say with a light laugh.
“Good.” She pulls back, taking another sip of her coffee. “Now tell me about this beach vacation with your sexy gangster boyfriend. And don’t leave out the juicy details.”
Just like that, the tension eases. It’s not gone completely—grief doesn’t work that way. But things become lighter between us. Almost like old times.
We talk for another hour, skirting around the heavy topics and finding our way back to what feels closer to normal. When we finally part ways on the sidewalk outside, Priscilla pulls me into a quick hug.
“Take care of yourself, Eli,” she murmurs. “I mean it, okay?”
“You too.”
I watch her walk away toward campus, her bag slung over her shoulder, aware it’s not the last time we’ll see each other. We’re still going to hang out as friends.
But it is the end of an era. It’s almost like we’re both saying goodbye to KD and the special time the three of us shared together. It hurts, but it’s necessary.
It’s not long before Gun, Joon, Priscilla, and I start a new tradition—dinner on the rooftop of some trendy fusion restaurant in Itaewon.
Wiry chairs and tables. String lights tangled with paper lanterns. Menus that promise “traditional flavors with a modern twist”.
Views of the city skyline that make for the perfect aesthetic post on social media.
It’s definitely a hot spot for a night out with friends.
Gun’s already claimed a table by the railing when Priscilla and I arrive, scrolling through his phone with that focused expression he gets when handling Cheongryong business. He looks up as we approach. I catch the small smile that tugs at his lips—the one that’s just for me.
“Joon’s running late,” he says, pulling out my chair with exaggerated politeness that makes me roll my eyes.
“Shocking,” Priscilla mutters, settling into her own seat. “When is he ever on time?”