ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜʀᴛᴀɪɴꜱ| ateez

✭𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘✭

-WOOYOUNG-

As Jihoon's footsteps grow closer, my heart pounds against my chest, a rapid drumbeat in the silence. The darkness of the room, once a comforting blanket, now feels like a stage set for a tense drama. My grip on the phone tightens; it's the only piece of evidence I have, and it feels as though it's my last link to safety.

I don't have time to hide the phone or the documents, nor to compose a face of innocence. There's only a moment to prepare mentally for the confrontation. I'm caught, and I know it. The priority now shifts to damage control, to navigate this precarious encounter without jeopardizing the well-being of the Twins or myself.

I turn slowly, the documents still in hand, to face Jihoon. His silhouette is a dark shape against the faint light coming from the hallway, an outline that seems both familiar and threatening. His presence fills the room, and I can sense his eyes on me, reading the situation, calculating his response.

I stand my ground, the documents a shield of sorts, their truth a stark contrast to the lies that have permeated our home. "Jihoon," I start, my voice a mix of defiance and caution. "What are you doing up?"

His response is measured, a careful composition of words. "I could ask you the same," he replies, his tone flat. It's clear from his voice that he's not fooled by my attempt to feign ignorance.

I'm painfully aware of the precariousness of my situation. The need to think strategically, to maintain a level head despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins, is paramount. My next words, my next actions, could determine the safety and future of myself and my children.

"I couldn't sleep... was just going through some old papers," I say, aiming for a note of casualness, hoping to buy time or at least to avoid escalating the situation further.

Jihoon steps closer, the light casting his face in stark relief, shadows playing across his features. "Old papers," he repeats, a hint of skepticism in his voice. "At this hour?"

"Yes," I answer, maintaining eye contact, striving to project sincerity. "You know how the wedding planning has been keeping me up at night."

Jihoon's actions betray the facade he's maintained for so long. His approach, deceptively calm, belies the danger in his touch as he kneels and reaches for the documents. I try to block him, but he's quick, snatching them away and smiling-a smile that doesn't reach his eyes but instead sends a shiver down my spine.

His hand, which starts out softly caressing my cheek, shifts in an instant, his grip tightening around my neck, a gesture that is both controlling and threatening.

"You mean going through my papers?" he mocks, his tone laced with derision. "Took you long enough, didn't it, to figure everything out. I'll give you that; it took me a long time, and I was so tired of hiding it."

A gasp escapes me, not just from the shock of his words but from the realization of the depth of his deceit. The man I thought I knew, the life I thought we were building, it's all come crashing down in a moment of truth revealed through intimidation and mockery.

In a moment of defiant courage, I turn his own taunt back on him, my whisper sharp as a blade. "You think you're so smart, Jihoon. All the money you invested, it's unavailable to you. Do you understand? My money is protected, you fool trying to make me out to be a fool."