Chapter 43: The Sweet Taste of Freedom
Jouna had finally fallen asleep. His breathing was heavy and irregular as he lay on the dirty sofa in the warehouse. Clara sat motionless beside him. Her heart was hammering so violently against her ribs that she was terrified he might hear it. She had waited for hours. Hours of assuring him that she would stay, just to win his trust. Now, the moment had arrived.
Carefully, without making a single sound, she stood up. Every step toward the exit felt like walking through a minefield. She knew that if she messed up now, it would end terribly for her.
On the other side of the town, inside the penthouse, the long-awaited breakthrough finally happened. The security team stared at a traffic camera feed. "We've got him!" the team leader shouted. It was the commercial cleaning van the stalker had used to infiltrate the building and abduct Clara. The GPS tracking led straight to an isolated, abandoned neighborhood on the outskirts of the city—an area scheduled for total redevelopment. Instantly, a heavily armed tactical team deployed.
Min-ho insisted on riding in the vehicle. A wave of immense relief washed over him, but it was instantly choked out by sheer terror. Jouna was armed. He had struck Min-ho down in the parking garage—the laceration on Min-ho's head was still throbbing painfully. What if that lunatic had hurt Clara? At the same time, his mind kept spinning around the open manuscript on her laptop. Ji-soo was Ariadne. She had lied to him. He needed to solve the riddle of her hidden identity—but not now. Right now, only her survival mattered.
Back at the warehouse, Clara reached the handle of the heavy exit door. Taking a deep breath, she threw one last, cautious look back at the sleeping Jouna and pressed the handle down.
SHRILL!!!
An ear-splitting alarm echoed through the warehouse. Clara gasped. She hadn't expected this! She had acted too quickly; she should have scouted the building better. But her overwhelming worry for Min-ho—the memory of him lying bleeding and unconscious on the garage floor—had made her reckless. Before she could even react, a heavy iron security door slammed down from above, blocking the exit. She had seen freedom for a mere two seconds, and now she was trapped.
Jouna bolted awake. His gaze locked onto Clara, his eyes flashing with pure, unpredictable rage. In a few long strides, he crossed the room and grabbed her wrist so tightly it bruised. "That wasn't smart of you," he hissed, his voice trembling with fury. "You're a bad girl. Now I have to punish you."
Clara knew she stood no chance against him physically. She had to use her mind. Instead of pulling away, she threw herself directly into Jouna's arms, wrapping her hands around his neck. She pressed her chest against his, holding him tight.
"Oh no, Jouna, I'm so sorry!" she sobbed, making her voice sound terrified and pleading. "I'm so sorry I made you angry! I just wanted to take the trash out... I only want to make this place nice for us and build a real home together!"
Jouna froze mid-motion. He was completely perplexed. The warmth of her body and her words hit him like a drug. His rage melted away in seconds, replaced by a touching, childlike naivety. He returned the embrace, holding her close. "Oh... oh, please forgive me, my darling," he stammered, suddenly sounding like a shy boy again. "I didn't mean to scare you. I was just so startled. I can't lose you." Hurriedly, he switched off the alarm system and looked at her with glistening eyes. "My sweet, you took such good care of me while I slept. Let's have a romantic dinner together now."
At that exact moment, the barricaded entrance door exploded inward.
The tactical team, having followed the sound of the alarm, stormed the hall with weapons drawn. Thanks to their specialized training, it took only seconds to tackle Jouna to the ground and overpower him.
"No! Let me go!" Jouna shrieked hysterically as handcuffs were slapped onto his wrists. "We are meant to be together! You can't separate us!" He whipped his head around, staring directly into Clara's eyes. "You said it was okay! Back then, when we first met... you said it was okay!"
Clara took a step back, shaking her head. A shiver ran down her spine, but deep down, she felt a pang of pity. He wasn't just evil—he was deeply mentally ill. "Please make sure he gets the proper medical help he needs," she said, her voice trembling as she spoke to the officers leading him away.
Outside, in the armored vehicle, Min-ho couldn't take it anymore. The moment he saw Clara, he flung the door open. He rushed toward her, throwing his arms around her and holding her so tightly it felt as though he would never let go. "Thank God... thank God you're okay," he whispered into her hair, his voice breaking with sheer relief. "I was sick with worry. Let's go home."
Clara clung to him, her knees turning to wax. Tears of relief streamed unchecked down her cheeks. Min-ho was here. He was alive. She was safe.