The chaos on the highway intensified as gunfire echoed against the hills, sharp and unforgiving. Taeyun, moving with precise efficiency, took aim at Tyler Kwan as he tried to advance toward the remaining hostages and the church perimeter. Two shots rang out—one striking Tyler’s left arm, the other piercing his rib.
“Argh…!” He grunted painfully and furiously. He staggered back, clutching his injuries, his confident smirk replaced by a grimace of pain. Without a second thought, Tyler retreated hastily toward his black van, limping but still fast enough to reach his escape vehicle.
“Go… go, now! Don’t let him get back up!” Taeyeon ordered with his gun still being raised.
On the contraire, the Narrow Squad moved like a well-oiled machine, systematically neutralizing Tyler’s underlings. Shots rang out in controlled bursts, each member covering another as the remaining henchmen were cornered. Chaos turned into swift, tactical precision.
“Secure the exits! Don’t let anyone else slip through!” Bryan yelled firmly.
“Everyone, okay? We got them all… except a few. They won’t get far in these hills,” Jason said to the group tensely.
By the time the smoke and gunfire settled, Tyler’s forces had been decimated. Only four of his underlings managed to escape into the hills, vanishing into the night before the Narrow Squad could reach them.
Eugene, still leaning against cover with his wound being pressed, nodded weakly, eyes scanning the dark horizon where Tyler’s van had disappeared.
“He’s gone… for now. But he won’t stay down for long,” he murmured grimly.
The hills and winding roads had played their part in the chase, but the night was far from over. The Narrow Squad and K-East had won the first battle, but the war—and Tyler’s shadow—still loomed.
Then, Bryan bent forward slightly, hands braced on his knees as he tried to steady his breathing. His chest rose and fell hard, every breath tasting of smoke, dust, and adrenaline. Around him, the other members of the Narrow Squad weren’t much better—faces streaked with sweat and grime, shoulders tense as they slowly lowered their weapons.
They began to move through the church methodically.
Broken pews lay scattered across the floor, bullet holes marred the walls, and shattered stained glass crunched beneath their boots. What had once been a place of vows and celebration now looked like the aftermath of a battlefield.
“…Check every corner. Don’t assume anything,” Max said, breathing heavily.
One by one, they swept the aisles, the altar, the side rooms—eyes sharp despite exhaustion.
Sirens grew louder outside, then suddenly the doors burst open again—this time with paramedics, firefighters, and emergency responders rushing in with stretchers and medical kits.
“We’re taking over triage. Anyone seriously wounded, point them out—now!” The paramedic exclaimed.
Bryan straightened, nodding quickly as he gestured toward the injured guests and fallen figures. “Over there—two civilians in the second row. One gunshot wound, one unconscious. Eugene’s injured too—stable but bleeding.”
Medics immediately moved in, kneeling beside the wounded, applying pressure, calling out vitals. The church filled with urgent voices instead of gunfire.
“…We held them back. Four escaped. The rest are down,” Julong said in exhaustion.
Jason clenched his jaw, eyes sweeping the room one last time. “That’ll have to be enough for tonight.”
He watched as the other Narrow squad members were guided to a safer area, wrapped in blankets, whereas Eugene was being treated nearby, refusing to lose consciousness despite the pain.
The Narrow Squad slowly lowered their guard—not fully, but enough to breathe.
“A wedding turned into a warzone… and this still isn’t over,” Kain said quietly under his breath.
As emergency lights painted the church walls red and blue, the weight of what had happened finally settled in. They had survived—but the cost was written all over the shattered sanctuary, and in the haunted silence that followed.
It was past midnight and Si-woo’s office echoed with a sharp crash as another thick book flew across the room, narrowly missing the assistant’s head before slamming against the wall. Loose papers scattered like white feathers, drifting to the floor in humiliating silence.
His assistant and the henchmen stood frozen, heads lowered, shoulders rigid—no one dared to speak.
“Useless! Absolutely fucking useless!” Si-woo yelled furiously.
He grabbed a stack of documents from his desk and hurled them forward, his eyes burning with rage.
“I gave you clear instructions. Valerie and Eugene were supposed to be dealt with—on the spot.”
One of the henchmen swallowed hard, voice trembling. “T-Tyler was injured, sir. The Narrow interfered faster than we anticipated—”
“Excuses!” Si-woo scoffed. He slammed his palm against the desk, the sound cracking through the room like a gunshot. “Every time you fail, you leave traces. Witnesses. Survivors. And now the entire world knows something went wrong at that church.”
The assistant cautiously stepped forward. “Tyler barely escaped. Four of his men got away. We can still regroup—”
Si-woo turned slowly, his glare icy rather than loud now—far more dangerous. “Regroup?” He let out a bitter laugh. “You don’t regroup after humiliating me. You fix it.”
The room fell deathly quiet as Si-woo walked toward the window, looking out at the city lights below, his reflection staring back at him—calm on the surface, murderous underneath.
“Valerie was never supposed to survive this long. And Eugene… he was supposed to stay obedient,” He clenched his fist and went on. “They slipped through once. That will not happen again.” Without turning around, he spoke one final sentence—cold, deliberate. “Next time, I don’t want chaos. I don’t want warnings. I want results.”
The henchmen bowed quickly, fear etched across their faces.
As they hurried out, Si-woo remained by the window, jaw tight, already planning his next move—because to him, the failed assassination wasn’t the end.
It was only a delay.
At the same time, far away from the chaos of the church, Jiyoo and Valerie were hidden inside a small, dimly lit shelter—a place Jiyoo had occupied long before tonight, one of those locations meant for disappearing rather than living. The walls were bare, the air faintly cold, and the only sound filling the room was Valerie’s uneven breathing.
Valerie stood by the narrow window, her hands pressed against the glass as tears streamed down her face. Outside, the city lights blurred into streaks of gold and gray, distorted by her trembling vision. Her shoulders shook silently, as if she were afraid that even her sobs might give them away. Everything replayed in her mind—the altar, the gunshots, Eugene collapsing, the truth Tyler had spat at her like poison.
She wiped her tears with the back of her hand, inhaled sharply, then slowly turned around.
Jiyoo was leaning against the wall, his helmet set aside, chest still rising heavily from the ride. There was a faint scrape on his knuckles, dried blood along his sleeve. But his eyes—those were fixed on her, filled with something raw and unguarded.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Valerie looked at him silently, her gaze lingering as if she was seeing him for the first time—and yet had always known him. Her lips parted, but no words came out. The room felt impossibly small, the space between them heavy with everything they had never said.
Jiyoo straightened slightly, his voice low, careful. “Are you hurt?”
Valerie shook her head slowly, though another tear slipped free. “No… I think I’m just—”15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxMxlExyScd
She faltered, her voice breaking. “I don’t understand how everything fell apart so fast.”
Jiyoo looked away for a second, jaw tightening, then met her eyes again. “You’re alive. That’s what matters right now.”
She let out a shaky breath, her fingers curling against the fabric of her dress. “…You came for me.”
It wasn’t a question.
Jiyoo didn’t deny it. “I always will.”
Silence settled again, heavier but warmer this time. Valerie held his gaze, her crying finally slowing, as if something steady—something familiar—was anchoring her in the storm. In that quiet shelter, away from guns and vows and lies, they stood facing each other, both knowing that nothing would ever be the same after tonight.
Valerie’s composure finally broke.
She slid down against the wall beneath the window, hugging her arms tightly around herself as if trying to hold her heart together. Her voice came out uneven, rushed, the words spilling before she could stop them.
“I really thought… I really thought I was going to marry him.”
Jiyoo stiffened slightly but didn’t interrupt.
She laughed bitterly through her tears with a few mascara stains near the corner of her eyes. “My best friend. The person I trusted the most. I loved him, Jiyoo. I loved him enough to stand there in that dress, in front of everyone, believing this was real.” Her fingers clenched into the fabric of her gown. “But it wasn’t love. It was a deal.” She shook her head, eyes burning. “He only agreed because Si-woo threatened to destroy me. To destroy the Narrow squad. To end all of us.”
Jiyoo’s jaw tightened at Si-woo’s name.
“I was never a choice. I was in a bad condition.” Her voice cracked. “If he didn’t marry me, Si-woo would’ve killed us. That’s why Eugene said yes. Not because he wanted me… but because he was trying to protect everyone.”
She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking violently. “I feel so stupid for believing it. For believing I was loved.”
Jiyoo moved closer then, slowly, as if afraid of overwhelming her. He crouched in front of her, his voice firm but gentle. “You’re not stupid.”
She looked up at him, eyes red and glossy. “You were brave and smart. You believed in something pure in a world that keeps twisting everything good into leverage.”
Valerie swallowed hard. “I don’t even know what hurts more—being used… or realizing that the man I loved was trapped just like I was.”
Jiyoo held her gaze, his expression steady, protective. “Eugene made a choice under a gun. But that doesn’t define you. And it doesn’t erase what you deserve.”
Her breathing slowly began to steady, though the pain was still there—raw, undeniable.
In that shelter, surrounded by silence and shadows, Valerie wasn’t just mourning a wedding that never happened.
She was mourning a love that had been real to her—15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwei8It77bC
even if the truth behind it had been built on fear instead of freedom.
Jiyoo lowered his head, his hands curling into fists at his sides. The weight of everything he had never said—everything he had done wrong—pressed heavily on his chest.
After a long silence, he finally spoke. “I’m sorry.”
Valerie looked at him, quite startled. He didn’t see her eyes at first.
“I’m sorry for before. For a year ago. For not protecting you when you needed it the most.”15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNq0xTTrAxo
His voice wavered. “I told myself there were reasons. That I didn’t have a choice. But the truth is… I should’ve stood up for you. No matter the cost.”
He finally looked up at her, eyes glassy, filled with regret. “I let fear decide for me. And because of that, you were hurt. You were alone.”
Valerie’s lips trembled, but she didn’t look away.
“Even after everything that happened between us… I never stopped caring about you. I just didn’t think I had the right to say anything anymore.”
He exhaled shakily. “I’m not asking you to forgive me. I just needed you to know that I see it now. And I’m sorry.”
For a moment, the room was silent except for Valerie’s quiet breathing. Then she spoke, her voice soft but steady. “…You hurt me. A lot.”
Jiyoo nodded immediately. “I know.”
She wiped her tears with the back of her hand. “But hearing you say that… it matters.” She looked at him—not with anger, not with expectation, but with a tired honesty.
“We both survived something that tried to destroy us. That doesn’t erase the past… but it means we’re still here.” Jiyoo’s shoulders sagged, relief and sorrow mixing together. “I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure nothing like this ever happens to you again.”
Valerie didn’t answer right away. Instead, she leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes for a brief moment.
Not forgiving him completely.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡu28f8VyMiq
Not shutting him out either.
Just letting the apology exist— at last.
Jiyoo stepped forward before either of them could overthink it. He wrapped his arms around Valerie, holding her tightly—as if letting go might make everything fall apart again. Valerie froze for a split second, then melted into him, her hands clutching the back of his jacket as a quiet sob escaped her chest as they both stood up on their feet.
“I was so scared,” she whispered.
“I know,” he murmured against her hair. “I’ve got you now.”
He pulled back just enough to look at her face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that traced her cheeks. Their eyes met—raw, unguarded, filled with everything they had buried for too long. Valerie inhaled shakily, then leaned in first, pressing her lips to his.
The kiss was slow at first, tentative—like a question. When Jiyoo responded, it deepened naturally, years of longing and regret dissolving into something warm and certain. The world outside the shelter faded away: the chaos, the violence, the broken promises. For that moment, there was only the steady rhythm of their breaths and the reassurance of being held.
Jiyoo rested his forehead against hers, then he continued on to kiss her in which she reciprocated it back.
The two of them stayed in their spot until both of their hands were all over each other.
Jiyoo’s hands were placed behind her back as he carefully unzipped the dress to the bottom, whereas Valerie removed his white shirt over his head before locking their eyes once more intensely. He lifted her up from her feet, whereas she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her all the way to the bed, further making out and leaving the rest of their clothes on the floor. His arms tightened around her, not out of desperation—but certainty.
Valerie felt it immediately, the difference between being held and being chosen. She tilted her head slightly, resting her forehead against his chest, listening to his heartbeat as it steadied her own.
The kiss they shared again was slower this time, deeper—not rushed by fear or chaos, but guided by trust. Jiyoo’s hand traced the curve of her back, careful, reverent, as if he were reminding himself she was real, that she was here.
They lay together, not hurried, not hidden—just present. Hands explored familiar and unfamiliar places with tenderness and ecstasy, as if relearning each other after surviving different wars. Valerie rested her head against his shoulder, her fingers tracing absent patterns over his chest.
For the first time, her tears stopped—not because the pain was gone, but because she was safe enough to let it rest.
Jiyoo pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’m here. I’m not leaving.”
The lights dimmed.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjCXba23bop
The night stretched on quietly.
And whatever followed after didn’t need words—only the promise that neither of them had to face tomorrow alone.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYYdYdttQ2X
and then Add to home screen.