Bongju remembered that day too. The tiny, defenseless baby with the thick shock of raven hair. Even then. At ten minutes old. And those gigantic, obsidian eyes. They had instantly melted his heart.
Bongju had never felt so vulnerable in his entire life as he had at that moment in time when he had stared down into his son’s eyes for the very first time. And he had held that tiny body in his arms. So vulnerable, so easily snuffed out. Bongju had been unable to order a hit on anyone’s family after that moment. Only the men were vulnerable to him after he saw Jungkook’s tiny face.
In that moment, he had known that he had – truly and forever – lost his heart to his son. He would never be able to deny him anything. But Jungkook had never asked him for a single thing. Not until today.
Bongju sighed as he returned to the memory of his son’s fourth birthday once more. He had stood in the tiny living room of the minuscule apartment she had allowed him to lease for her to raise their son in, and Bongju had stared with longing at them both. He had known then that he would never marry. That he would allow his empire to crumble before he would create another child with a different woman. Until his dying breath, this woman would be the only one for him. Ever. And this son would be his only child. Forever.
And now that child was a grown man. In love with his own forever woman. And broken by the knowledge that he was powerless to protect her. Or even to be with her.
His hand still ruffling Jungkook’s hair, Bongju spoke, “Does she truly love you?”
Jungkook nodded his head against the desk. “She does. She loathes her appa. But I have no means to hide her away. I would love to run away with her, but that takes money. And I have too little.
“He’s going to marry her off to a company man,” Jungkook sobbed. “I will lose her to pills and soju. Slowly. Over many years. Not knowing what she’s endured at the hands of some ruthless man who married her simply to further his own career.”
He sat up suddenly, flinging his head back. “I don’t know why I’m here. It’s not like you understand love.” He stood up.
But his appa’s words lanced him before he could leave the room.
“I had only two loves in all my life. My appa was a cold and cruel man. I know you believe me to be so, but I never lifted one little finger against you or your eomma. My appa, on the other hand,” he winced at the memories, and a shiver rippled up his spine.
Jungkook noticed it. He frowned. “Your father beat you?”
His appa met his gaze. “The first time I disobeyed him, he broke my pinky finger.”
He held it up for Jungkook to see. He had always wondered why his father’s pinky was crooked. He felt his stomach revolting as, for the first time, he realized it wasn’t from messing up someone else’s face.
“I know you believe I’m ruthless. I worked hard as a young man to create that image. So that my word would be enough to scare men. And force would, most often, be unnecessary to bend them to my will. But I have never taken pleasure in inflicting pain on someone else. And I have never – not since the day you were born – touched a man’s family.”
“How old were you?” Jungkook murmured.
His father squinted. “What?”
“When he broke your pinky. How old were you?”
The same tender age as the little boy delighting in his pony. How Danbi had pleased him. Blessing their child at the same age his own appa had disillusioned Bongju.
“I was four years old.”
Jungkook lunged for the trash can and retched into it. His grandfather had broken his own son’s finger when he was barely more than a toddler.
Dear God! The ruthlessness of the man!
Jungkook realized then that his father had never stood a chance. And Jungkook began to bawl over that trash bin.
“I can’t take it. I can’t take anymore. You’re not even the cold monster I painted you out to be for years.” He felt a chilling hopelessness sliding into his bones. “I thought I had found a way to free myself. At long last. To live as Eomma raised me to live. But then I had to go and fall in love with a boss’s daughter.” He wept bitterly.
