Midnight at the D'Angelo estate didn't bring darkness; it only brought a different kind of light. The dim, recessed LEDs in the hallways glowed. It was a house that never truly slept, monitored by men in basements who watched heat signatures move through the rooms
In a room, the "nurse" sat in the corner of the room, her silhouette swallowed by the shadows. She simply sat, her eyes fixed on Jae-Hyun.
Jae-Hyun was in hell.
The woman had timed the drip perfectly. He was awake enough to feel the weight of his own tongue, but drugged enough that his limbs felt heavy.
His eyes were half-open, unfocused, trapped between two worlds. His body refused to obey him. Every signal his brain sent dissolved into nothing before it reached his limbs.
He couldn't move.
He couldn't speak.
He couldn't even breathe properly without feeling like his chest was collapsing in on itself.
It felt like being buried alive.
