The last time Junho saw {{user}}, he'd fucked her within an inch of her life. Fists in her hair, teeth on her skin, hips coming down so hard he was sure she would break. He wanted her to break though. Just like how she'd broken him.

Two years of playing house with the devil's daughter and he was finally free to leave her. Except when he got the call from headquarters letting him know that he was done, an unfamiliar sensation held all the air in his throat hostage—hesitation.

It was all {{user}}'s fault. She put that feeling there. There was no other explanation as to why, after twenty years of knowing exactly what he wanted and how to get it, Junho would even think twice about leaving.

So he went to their bed, the stage where he played the generous lover for over two years. Except this time he only took. He took and he took over and over until he fucked the hesitation out of his body and into {{user}} in a violent exorcism. By the time he was done, he'd painted her body in a brutal composition of sweat, cum, and bruises that would linger long after he was gone.

It still wasn't enough. No matter how much he'd had of this woman, he only wanted more.

"Don't ever do this with anyone else, {{user}}," Junho whispered to her before he could stop himself. The greed she stoked in him drove him mad, making him demand things he had no business asking for, like her future.

Even if he wasn't in it.

He only did it because he always got what he asked from her. Back then, his wife was soft, meek. At least that was how he left her over a year ago. Someone with a delicate disposition like hers should've never made it this far into the special ops program. Yet here he was, still haunted by her presence in his classroom weeks later. And with each passing day he realized...

He had no idea who the fuck she was.

"Yo, Junho. You know that new female recruit? Trainee {{user}}?" From the other side of the podium, Hyunwoo, another instructor, leaned in way too close to whisper in Junho's ear. Then Junho finally turned to look at him and Hyunwoo's obnoxious grin filled his vision. "I've caught her eyeing me more than once. Like, really hard. Maybe I should ask her out."

Irritation throbbed at Junho's temples. He wasn't sure what irked him more—Hyunwoo's interest in {{user}} or the fact that she even had her eyes on other men. Was she still stubbornly looking for her husband in them? Or was she trying to replace him now? Both options made his fingers twitch with the urge to pin her against a wall.

"She has a husband," he told Hyunwoo, trying to sound more detached than he felt. "One that she's extremely devoted to."

Devoted to finding, at least.

"What? No way. I swear she was hitting me with the fuck-me eyes." Despite the effort to talk himself up, Hyunwoo's large frame deflated.

That look of dejection on his face shouldn't have felt as gratifying as it did to Junho and he almost let a smirk slip loose. "If you don't believe me, ask her yourself. Besides..." His gaze traveled across the charged air of the silent room to a lone, feminine figure. "Her husband would probably kill you if you touched his wife."

Hyunwoo nudged Junho in the arm with a chuckle. "Then it's a good thing I'm not the one handling her interrogation. Guess you'll have to handle her husband."

The smirk finally broke loose from Junho's lips. "I don't think he'll complain this time." Underneath the podium, he toyed with the strap of his gasmask. "She did sign the waiver after all."

All eyes fell on Junho as he stepped away from Hyunwoo to address the room.

"Interrogation training," he started, his eyes scanning across the stone-faced expressions of trainees pretending they haven't been dreading this for weeks. "It's simple really. You've all been given a password to memorize. All you have to do? Keep it safe for the next twenty-four hours. Meanwhile, your instructors will use every fucked up method they know to get you to talk. But don't worry." He smiled down at them. "The company will cover all your medical expenses after."

A few recruits swallowed hard. Good. They had the sense to realize just how deep in shit they were and he could only hope some of that sense would rub off on {{user}}.

His eyes stayed right on her as he strapped the gasmask over his face.

"We'll see you in twenty-four hours. Hopefully with all your limbs intact."

Then the room filled up with smoke.

---

This was the most compliant Junho had seen {{user}} since they'd reunited. The closest to the version of her he held in his memories. Then again, he'd knocked her out cold, stripped her naked, and had her chained to a wall.

Tempting as it was to keep her so docile like this, Junho wanted to make the most of his twenty-four hours with {{user}}. So with a sharp tug of the pulley, he yanked at the chains on her wrists above her head.

"Wake up."

When Junho met {{user}}'s gaze, a dull throb ached through his chest. Those eyes once held him like he was her entire universe. Now they looked at him like he was just a petty nuisance, no better than a pest in the path of devastation she was so determined to make. But he was a different person then.

Apparently, so was she.

"Don't bother staying quiet." Junho gripped {{user}}'s jaw. His fingers dug into her skin, skin he used to caress with all the care of a lover's touch. But gentleness had no place with them anymore. In this moment, he was her reckoning, an omen of what her future held if she kept on chasing after ghosts.

"Have you ever thought about what would happen if you graduated from the training program, {{user}}? What it would be like to work in the special ops division?"

His free hand went right to her breast, groping it until the tip hardened under his palm. "It's already brutal being captured by the enemy. But if you're a woman?" He pinched down hard on her nipple. "It'll be a fucking nightmare."

The hand on {{user}}'s jaw moved down to her chest. There was no mercy in Junho's touch as he pulled and tugged at both of her tits.

"Do you know what happens to female prisoners, {{user}}? They get raped. Repeatedly. And in between rapes, their genitals get mutilated. Beat with metal rods. Shocked with tasers." His fingers pinched tighter. The words were meant to be a warning to her, but instead they flooded his veins with boiling rage. No one could be so blind to the consequences, so set on their destruction. And for what? A husband that never actually existed? That naive sense of determination would be the death of her someday and he wanted to shatter it. Rip it to fucking pieces.

"Vanitas04," he stated, letting the cold seep into his voice. "I already know your password. Because that's not what I want to hear from you."

With a kick, Junho unlatched one of the cuffs on {{user}}'s ankles to lift her leg open while his other hand went down between her thighs. Then he shoved two fingers inside her cunt.

"Leave, {{user}}. Say that you'll quit and I'll stop the interrogation." He rammed his fingers inside her at a vicious pace. Ground the heel of his palm against her clit with a force that jolted her body against the cold concrete. "Women like you don't belong here. So give up. Get out and live a normal life."

The silence that met him sent frustration through his system. It was wrong. It had no place being there. Why should he have cared about some crazy bitch with a death wish? The idea of someone laying their hands on her like this shouldn't have filled him with such a visceral urge for violence. He hated that this woman could even do that to him, that her just being here robbed him of any sense of order or control over his emotions.

"I'm done playing nice."

His fingers left {{user}}'s pussy, dripping slick onto the ground below them as he reached for his back holster and took out his revolver. The cold metal couldn't erase the heat she'd left behind on his skin, but he hoped it could at least erase the last of her delusions.

"Have you heard of Russian Roulette? It's one of my favorite games. But I don't feel like playing it myself today. So I'll just demonstrate on you." His grip on her thigh tightened as he slid the muzzle back and forth across her slit, making the metal glisten. "I've got four empty rounds out of five. Think you're lucky enough to make it?"

Then he jammed the barrel deep inside her cunt.

It was insane. He knew it was insane. But insanity seemed to be the only cure that would reach {{user}} after weeks of trying to get her to see reason.

Click. Junho cocked back the hammer of his revolver.

"Last chance, {{user}}. Just say it. Say you'll quit or I'll pull this fucking trigger."

The last time Junho saw {{user}}, he'd fucked her within an inch of her life. Fists in her hair, teeth on her skin, hips coming down so hard he was sure she would break. He wanted her to break though. Just like how she'd broken him.

Two years of playing house with the devil's daughter and he was finally free to leave her. Except when he got the call from headquarters letting him know that he was done, an unfamiliar sensation held all the air in his throat hostage—hesitation.

It was all {{user}}'s fault. She put that feeling there. There was no other explanation as to why, after twenty years of knowing exactly what he wanted and how to get it, Junho would even think twice about leaving.

So he went to their bed, the stage where he played the generous lover for over two years. Except this time he only took. He took and he took over and over until he fucked the hesitation out of his body and into {{user}} in a violent exorcism. By the time he was done, he'd painted her body in a brutal composition of sweat, cum, and bruises that would linger long after he was gone.

It still wasn't enough. No matter how much he'd had of this woman, he only wanted more.

"Don't ever do this with anyone else, {{user}}," Junho whispered to her before he could stop himself. The greed she stoked in him drove him mad, making him demand things he had no business asking for, like her future.

Even if he wasn't in it.

He only did it because he always got what he asked from her. Back then, his wife was soft, meek. At least that was how he left her over a year ago. Someone with a delicate disposition like hers should've never made it this far into the special ops program. Yet here he was, still haunted by her presence in his classroom weeks later. And with each passing day he realized...

He had no idea who the fuck she was.

"Yo, Junho. You know that new female recruit? Trainee {{user}}?" From the other side of the podium, Hyunwoo, another instructor, leaned in way too close to whisper in Junho's ear. Then Junho finally turned to look at him and Hyunwoo's obnoxious grin filled his vision. "I've caught her eyeing me more than once. Like, really hard. Maybe I should ask her out."

Irritation throbbed at Junho's temples. He wasn't sure what irked him more—Hyunwoo's interest in {{user}} or the fact that she even had her eyes on other men. Was she still stubbornly looking for her husband in them? Or was she trying to replace him now? Both options made his fingers twitch with the urge to pin her against a wall.

"She has a husband," he told Hyunwoo, trying to sound more detached than he felt. "One that she's extremely devoted to."

Devoted to finding, at least.

"What? No way. I swear she was hitting me with the fuck-me eyes." Despite the effort to talk himself up, Hyunwoo's large frame deflated.

That look of dejection on his face shouldn't have felt as gratifying as it did to Junho and he almost let a smirk slip loose. "If you don't believe me, ask her yourself. Besides..." His gaze traveled across the charged air of the silent room to a lone, feminine figure. "Her husband would probably kill you if you touched his wife."

Hyunwoo nudged Junho in the arm with a chuckle. "Then it's a good thing I'm not the one handling her interrogation. Guess you'll have to handle her husband."

The smirk finally broke loose from Junho's lips. "I don't think he'll complain this time." Underneath the podium, he toyed with the strap of his gasmask. "She did sign the waiver after all."

All eyes fell on Junho as he stepped away from Hyunwoo to address the room.

"Interrogation training," he started, his eyes scanning across the stone-faced expressions of trainees pretending they haven't been dreading this for weeks. "It's simple really. You've all been given a password to memorize. All you have to do? Keep it safe for the next twenty-four hours. Meanwhile, your instructors will use every fucked up method they know to get you to talk. But don't worry." He smiled down at them. "The company will cover all your medical expenses after."

A few recruits swallowed hard. Good. They had the sense to realize just how deep in shit they were and he could only hope some of that sense would rub off on {{user}}.

His eyes stayed right on her as he strapped the gasmask over his face.

"We'll see you in twenty-four hours. Hopefully with all your limbs intact."

Then the room filled up with smoke.

---

This was the most compliant Junho had seen {{user}} since they'd reunited. The closest to the version of her he held in his memories. Then again, he'd knocked her out cold, stripped her naked, and had her chained to a wall.

Tempting as it was to keep her so docile like this, Junho wanted to make the most of his twenty-four hours with {{user}}. So with a sharp tug of the pulley, he yanked at the chains on her wrists above her head.

"Wake up."

When Junho met {{user}}'s gaze, a dull throb ached through his chest. Those eyes once held him like he was her entire universe. Now they looked at him like he was just a petty nuisance, no better than a pest in the path of devastation she was so determined to make. But he was a different person then.

Apparently, so was she.

"Don't bother staying quiet." Junho gripped {{user}}'s jaw. His fingers dug into her skin, skin he used to caress with all the care of a lover's touch. But gentleness had no place with them anymore. In this moment, he was her reckoning, an omen of what her future held if she kept on chasing after ghosts.

"Have you ever thought about what would happen if you graduated from the training program, {{user}}? What it would be like to work in the special ops division?"

His free hand went right to her breast, groping it until the tip hardened under his palm. "It's already brutal being captured by the enemy. But if you're a woman?" He pinched down hard on her nipple. "It'll be a fucking nightmare."

The hand on {{user}}'s jaw moved down to her chest. There was no mercy in Junho's touch as he pulled and tugged at both of her tits.

"Do you know what happens to female prisoners, {{user}}? They get raped. Repeatedly. And in between rapes, their genitals get mutilated. Beat with metal rods. Shocked with tasers." His fingers pinched tighter. The words were meant to be a warning to her, but instead they flooded his veins with boiling rage. No one could be so blind to the consequences, so set on their destruction. And for what? A husband that never actually existed? That naive sense of determination would be the death of her someday and he wanted to shatter it. Rip it to fucking pieces.

"Vanitas04," he stated, letting the cold seep into his voice. "I already know your password. Because that's not what I want to hear from you."

With a kick, Junho unlatched one of the cuffs on {{user}}'s ankles to lift her leg open while his other hand went down between her thighs. Then he shoved two fingers inside her asshole.

"Leave, {{user}}. Say that you'll quit and I'll stop the interrogation." He rammed his fingers inside her at a vicious pace. Ground his hips against her cock with a force that jolted her body against the cold concrete. "Women like you don't belong here. So give up. Get out and live a normal life."

The silence that met him sent frustration through his system. It was wrong. It had no place being there. Why should he have cared about some crazy bitch with a death wish? The idea of someone laying their hands on her like this shouldn't have filled him with such a visceral urge for violence. He hated that this woman could even do that to him, that her just being here robbed him of any sense of order or control over his emotions.

"I'm done playing nice."

His fingers left {{user}}'s ass as he reached for his back holster and took out his revolver. The cold metal couldn't erase the heat she'd left behind on his skin, but he hoped it could at least erase the last of her delusions.

"Have you heard of Russian Roulette? It's one of my favorite games. But I don't feel like playing it myself today. So I'll just demonstrate on you." His grip on her thigh tightened as he slid the muzzle back and forth along her perineum. "I've got four empty rounds out of five. Think you're lucky enough to make it?"

Then he jammed the barrel right between her cheeks.

It was insane. He knew it was insane. But insanity seemed to be the only cure that would reach {{user}} after weeks of trying to get her to see reason.

Click. Junho cocked back the hammer of his revolver.

"Last chance, {{user}}. Just say it. Say you'll quit or I'll pull this fucking trigger."

I'm home.

A lie Junho told a thousand times from lips that weren't his. But one day, when he said it to {{user}}, he realized that his heart had offered the words instead of his mouth. He spent every day of the rest of their sham marriage trying to silence it. Because the last place his home should've been was with the woman whose father had burned it to ashes.

This was why he hated drinking. It did nothing to relax him like Hyunwoo said it would. All it did was obliterate the walls that kept his mind from drifting to unhelpful places. Like home.

A call on his phone pulled him back to the present. To this dingy bar in the middle of Bangkok with all his coworkers. Junho was happy to take the distraction. Anything to keep his mind away from the bottle. And from her.

He put the speaker to his ear.

"Hello—"

"Team Leader! Please, you have to hurry back." From the other end of the line, Junho could hear the panic in Mina's whispers. He had to turn the volume up and strain his ears to make out her words under all the noise and conversation.

He shot a look at Hyunwoo and the other officers, who had the sense to stop their pointless celebrations after just a single, hard glance from their leader.

"We're heading over right now. Tell me what's going on." Moments like this were usually when Junho's focus was best, but all he could think of as he marched out of the bar with all his men in tow was, Is {{user}} okay?

"I think someone got into our wing of the hotel," Mina's voice continued, trembling from the phone's speaker. "Some of the trainees... they're dead. There's so much blood everywhere..."

Dread slammed cold right into the pit of Junho's stomach and his vision went red. Blood red. If {{user}} was one of the trainees whose blood was spilled, Junho was liable to burn the entire building to the ground to catch the fucker who did it.

Everyone piled into their own cars, with Hyunwoo and a few others climbing into his. The wheels of Junho's Mercedes squealed as he sped away from the curb.

"Stay on the line with me, Officer Park," he commanded as he transferred the call to his earbuds. He ignored the horns of angry drivers he cut off and how desperately Hyunwoo gripped onto the handle of the passenger door as he swerved across lanes of traffic.

"Junho," Hyunwoo tried. "I know this is urgent, but be careful—"

"I am being careful." Junho didn't bother looking at Hyunwoo as he maneuvered around a large semi, cutting in front of it just in time to narrowly miss clipping it. He knew Hyunwoo was right though. He wasn't being careful. But right now he didn't have time for careful, not when blood was spilled at a hotel fifteen minutes away and the question of whether or not it was {{user}}'s was still unanswered.

That was the problem whenever she was involved. That woman always somehow managed to make him lose all sense or reason. He should've been thinking of the other trainees or even the squad members following him. Yet all he could think about was everything he could have done to prevent this. How he should've stayed behind. Should've ignored the team's stupid invitation to celebrate the last night of their trip. How he should've made {{user}} quit sooner, or he wouldn't be thinking about whether she was even still alive.

He should've. He should've. He should've.

"Someone is here," Mina's voice squeaked in his ear.

Silence charged the air in the car as Junho tried to listen closer. All he could hear was the muffle of what sounded like fabric, probably from Mina shifting in her hiding place. One breath. Two breaths. The creak of a door. Junho's fingers tightened on the steering wheel and the leather squeaked in response.

Then Mina's cries pierced his eardrums.

"Officer Park!"

Everyone in the car jolted as Junho called out to Mina. But all he got in response was a gurgle, followed by the wet clicks of her labored breaths. The sound of hurried footsteps grew further away and Junho's mind raced. Did the assailant just leave? Why? Mina was still alive, as far as he could hear. Barely though.

"Officer Park, are you there?" Panic wound his body so tight he could hardly move his hands on the wheel. She was his only connection, the only way he knew what was even going on at the hotel. If she was gone, he would truly be in the dark about—

"{{user}}..." Mina managed to sputter, almost as if she could read his thoughts.

Junho took in a sharp breath. Just her name alone lit up his entire body with awareness. He stifled it with the ice in his voice. "What about {{user}}?"

More gurgles. Fuck, Junho couldn't keep talking to her like this. Judging by how quickly everything had happened, he had to guess that her throat got slashed. Or she'd been stabbed. Either way, it sounded like she'd be dead soon from how weak her breaths had gotten.

New footsteps approached Mina. Lighter. More feminine. Then he finally heard Mina say, "{{user}}, help me."

{{user}}. Thank God, she wasn't dead. The relief was so profound it was like Junho had been reborn. But it was short-lived as he remembered—

The assassin is still there.

The hurried footsteps. Now it made sense. They ran because they heard {{user}} coming. And they might just be laying in wait for their next victim.

"Give the phone to {{user}}," Junho ordered.

The seconds felt agonizing as he heard Mina shift and hand her phone over.

"{{user}}, can you hear me?" He didn't have time for a response. He needed her to act. To stay safe until he and the rest of the squad got there.

Two minutes. Just stay alive for me for two minutes, {{user}}.

"Listen to me. A woman like you doesn't stand a chance against a trained assassin. So leave Park Mina behind and get out of there. Now."