Yuhan needed a moment to breathe.
The shock settled in—heavy, unavoidable.
Confusion came first. Then anger, slow and suffocating.
Why?Why send him chasing ghosts when he could have gone straight to his husband?
His jaw clenched.
Three years.A missing person.An accident.A life dangled in front of him like leverage.
And for what?
That man had never been gone. He had been here all along—safe, protected, standing in plain sight.
The realization burned.
Yuhan's hands curled into fists at his sides, knuckles whitening—not the kind of rage that explodes, but the quiet, humiliating anger of someone who knows just how powerless they really are.
Kai walked past him.
Yuhan didn't notice at first—too deep in the storm inside his own head.
But Kai noticed everything.
The stiffened posture.The darkened eyes.The fingers tightening like they wanted something to break.
Kai didn't slow.
He kept walking, a thin, unreadable tug at the corner of his mouth. Not quite a smirk. Not quite a scoff.
Outside, the black BMW waited.
The door shut.The engine purred.And the car slid seamlessly into the night.
With their boss gone, the building seemed to exhale.
The elevator chimed.
Zhang stepped out, the red file tucked under his arm.
He saw Yuhan immediately.
Yuhan tilted his head.
His gaze was sharp—focused, heavy with a question that felt more like a warning.
Zhang swallowed and redirected himself toward the administrative desk. He pressed the bell, the sound cutting clean through the quiet.
The woman behind the counter startled, a bead of nervous sweat forming at her temple.
"I—I'm sorry," she said quickly, forcing a smile at Yuhan. "I need to step away for a moment."
Yuhan didn't respond.
His eyes never left Zhang.
The space between them felt thinner than air—tight enough to snap.
The woman circled around the counter to assist Zhang, who had already placed the red file down.
Yuhan returned to the table he'd been waiting at and set the untouched glass down.
He straightened slowly, fingers curling again.
Every sleepless night.Every lead chased.Every risk taken just to earn those files.
"For fuck's sake," he muttered.
Then he walked out.
Rain met him instantly.
The drops fell fast, soaking into his denim jacket, darkening the fabric. His white shirt didn't stand a chance—clinging to his skin as the water traced every line of his body.
He paused and turned back toward the building.
Through the glass, Zhang was still there—busy talking to the woman. Not following. Not explaining.
Yuhan scoffed under his breath.
"…Wasn't like this when we fucked."
And with that, he turned back into the rain.
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