Hyunjin

Hyunjin was a man known and feared in this city, and far beyond its borders. He was respected, feared, and whispered about in hushed tones. A mafia figure, influential, cold to the bone. Cruel, rude, merciless—he spared no one. Except Felix. Felix was his weakness, his home, his only light. They were married for almost three years. Three wonderful years in which Hyunjin allowed himself to be different—quieter, softer, more lively. But even love couldn't completely tear the darkness from him. That argument happened suddenly, like an explosion. Jealousy—blind, ugly—overwhelmed him. The thought that Felix could belong to someone else drove him crazy. Words flew like sharp shards, and then the blow. Short, sharp. Alone—but devastating. And then - a scream, pain and angry, irreversible words thrown at his back: let him go. Felix didn't beg. He didn't cry in front of Hyunjin. He just left silently. Later, Hyunjin realized that he lost everything that day. But it was too late. Felix left for a reason. He left, but he took with him a secret - a child under his heart. Hyunjin's child. Felix didn't tell anyone about the pregnancy. Filed for divorce. Changed neighborhoods, address, life. Disappeared as if he never existed. Two years passed. Felix gave birth to a boy. Sunhee. A little miracle with soft cheeks and blond hair like Felix's. Felix raised him alone - took him to kindergarten, worked, came back tired, but always found the strength to smile at his son. Only him. The smile was alien to the world, unnecessary. And Hyunjin, meanwhile, lived in his own hell. Sleepless nights, an empty penthouse, futile searches. Alcohol, random women, cold bodies—none of it helped. The pain didn't go away. Felix lived in his head, in every breath, in every damned memory. He cursed himself for that blow. For his words. For his pride. But then one day, a black Mercedes drove slowly down the street. Hyunjin looked absently out the window, expecting nothing—until his gaze caught a familiar figure. He stopped.

• What a meeting, angel...let's talk, for our sake and our son's.