The rhythm of the evening continued, polished and controlled, but beneath it something had already begun to fracture. The music still played, guests still smiled, glasses still clinked—but for Ethan, the air had shifted.
Yuna leaned slightly closer to him, her fingers brushing his arm. "Ethan," she said softly, "I need to go to the bathroom."
He glanced at her, his expression unreadable for a moment, then gave a small nod. "Okay."
She slipped her hand from his and walked away, disappearing into the crowd with quiet grace, the shimmer of her dress fading into the lights.
Ethan turned back to the guests.
Luca stood beside him, both of them handling conversations with practiced ease. Words came automatically—polite, measured, controlled. But Luca's attention was never still. His eyes moved constantly, scanning the room, reading people.
That's when he saw him.
A man near the far edge of the hall.
The same one who had been watching earlier.
He wasn't blending in anymore.
He was leaving.
Luca's expression tightened slightly. He leaned closer to Ethan. "That guy—corner table, black suit. He's walking out."
Ethan didn't look immediately.
"Something's off," Luca added quietly.
That was enough.
Ethan excused himself from the group with a calm nod. "I'll be right back," he said, his tone smooth enough that no one questioned it.
Then he moved.
Fast.
Silent.
He slipped through the hall, following the man out into the quieter corridor beyond the main area. The noise of the party dimmed behind him, replaced by a colder silence.
The man walked quickly, but not quickly enough.
Ethan caught up in seconds.
His hand shot forward, grabbing the man's collar and slamming him hard against the wall.
"Who are you?" Ethan demanded, his voice low but sharp. "Why are you here?"
The man didn't answer.
He just looked at Ethan.
That was his mistake.
Ethan's fist connected with his face without hesitation.
A clean, controlled hit.
The man's head snapped to the side, blood touching his lip, but he still didn't speak.
Ethan grabbed him again, tighter this time. "Answer me."
Silence.
Ethan's patience thinned.
Another punch.
Harder.
"Talk."
The man exhaled slowly, then smiled faintly through the blood.
"I've already done my work."
Ethan's grip tightened. "What work?" His voice dropped colder. "Tell me, or I will kill you."
The man didn't answer immediately.
Instead—
His eyes shifted.
Looking past Ethan.
Ethan noticed.
Slowly, he turned his head.
And everything stopped.
Yuna stood there.
A few steps away.
Her eyes filled with tears.
Her hands trembling.
Her expression—
Broken.
The moment stretched, heavy and suffocating.
The man took that chance.
He twisted sharply, breaking free from Ethan's grip and running down the corridor without looking back.
Ethan didn't chase him.
Not this time.
"Luca," he said sharply into his comm.
"On it," Luca replied instantly, already moving.
Ethan's focus was no longer on the man.
It was on Yuna.
He stepped toward her.
Slowly.
Carefully.
"Yuna—"
She stepped back.
The movement was immediate.
Instinctive.
Like she didn't want him near her.
That hit harder than anything else.
Ethan stopped.
Something in his expression shifted—just slightly.
"You heard him," he said quietly.
It wasn't a question.
Yuna's lips trembled, her breath uneven as tears spilled down her face. She shook her head slightly, as if denying it, but the pain in her eyes said otherwise.
Then—
Her hand moved.
Fast.
The sound of the slap echoed sharply in the corridor.
Ethan's head turned slightly with the impact.
But he didn't react.
Didn't stop her.
Yuna's voice broke as she spoke. "You—" she struggled to breathe, "you killed my father."
The words cut through everything.
Heavy.
Final.
Elena, who had noticed the sudden shift in the atmosphere, rushed out from the hall, her expression already tense. She looked between them, sensing something was very wrong.
"What happened?" she asked.
But Yuna didn't look at her.
Her eyes stayed locked on Ethan.
"Why?" she demanded, her voice rising, shaking. "Why didn't you kill me too?!"
Another slap.
Harder.
This time Ethan's face turned slightly more, but he still didn't stop her.
Didn't defend himself.
Didn't explain.
He just stood there.
Taking it.
Yuna's tears fell uncontrollably now. "All this time…" she choked out, "all this time you knew… and you still stayed with me… you still let me—"
Her voice broke completely.
Elena stepped closer, trying to understand. "Yuna, what are you saying—?"
"He killed him!" Yuna cried out, her voice echoing. "He killed my father!"
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Unbearable.
Elena froze.
Her eyes moved slowly to Ethan.
Luca wasn't there.
No one else was.
Just them.
And the truth.
Yuna's shoulders shook as she stepped back again, putting more distance between herself and Ethan like he had become something she couldn't stand to be near.
"You lied to me," she whispered. "Every moment… every word…"
Ethan finally spoke.
His voice was low.
Controlled.
But not empty.
"I didn't lie," he said.
Yuna laughed through her tears, a broken, disbelieving sound. "You didn't tell me the truth either."
He didn't argue.
Because she was right.
Her gaze hardened despite the tears. "I loved you," she said, her voice trembling. "And you—"
She couldn't finish.
The pain was too much.
Ethan took a step forward again.
Careful.
Slow.
But she stepped back instantly.
"No," she said, shaking her head. "Don't come closer."
That stopped him.
Completely.
For the first time—
He didn't know what to do.
Elena looked between them, her expression conflicted, trying to process everything at once. "Ethan…" she started, but the words didn't come.
Yuna wiped her tears roughly, but they didn't stop.
"Stay away from me," she said.
And this time—
Her voice didn't shake.
It broke.
And shattered everything between them.
Yuna didn't wait for anyone to stop her.
She turned and walked fast—almost running—down the corridor, past the emptying hall, past the lights and music that now felt distant and meaningless. Her vision blurred with tears, but she didn't slow down. She just needed to get away.
Away from him.
Away from everything.
She reached the parking area, her hands shaking as she fumbled for the car door. She pulled it open and slid into the driver's seat, her breath uneven, fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly as if it was the only thing holding her together.
Before she could start the engine—
The door was pulled open again.
Ethan.
He stood there, his presence filling the space, his expression no longer composed but still restrained.
"Move," he said quietly.
Yuna didn't look at him. "Get out."
"You're not driving like this."
"I said get out!" she snapped, her voice breaking. "You don't get to tell me what to do anymore."
Ethan didn't move.
His hand rested on the door, blocking it from closing.
"Yuna, listen to me."
"No!" she turned to him then, eyes red, filled with anger and pain. "You listen to me for once. Did you enjoy it?" she demanded. "Did you enjoy killing him? Was it just another job to you?"
Ethan's jaw tightened. "It wasn't like that."
"Then what was it like?!" she shouted. "Tell me! Because from where I'm standing, you shot my father and came home like nothing happened!"
Silence.
Heavy.
Ethan held her gaze. "I didn't know what to do I just killed him."
That made her laugh bitterly. "And that makes it okay?" she asked. "That makes it better?"
"No," he said.
The honesty in his voice made her pause—but only for a second.
"You still did it," she whispered. "And you didn't even tell me."
Ethan's voice dropped. "I would have—"
"When?" she cut him off sharply. "After what? After I told you I loved you? After I trusted you with everything?!"
Her hands shook harder now, gripping the steering wheel until her knuckles turned pale.
"You stood there," she continued, her voice cracking, "you stood there every day, looking at me like I mattered… while you were the reason I lost everything."
Ethan took a step closer.
Careful.
"You still matter."
"Don't," she said immediately, shaking her head. "Don't say things like that. You don't get to say that anymore."
Her eyes filled again, but this time she didn't wipe the tears.
"Was any of it real?" she asked, her voice quieter now, but more painful. "Or was I just… another part of your plan?"
That question stayed between them.
Ethan didn't answer immediately.
Because this time—
There wasn't an easy answer.
"I never used you," he said finally.
Yuna looked at him, searching his face.
"You didn't have to," she whispered. "It still happened."
She tried to pull the door closed again.
Ethan stopped it once more.
"Yuna—don't go like this."
"Like what?" she asked. "Broken? Angry? Or finally seeing the truth?"
He didn't respond.
Her voice softened, but it hurt more. "You should have just killed me too," she said. "It would've been easier."
Ethan's expression shifted instantly. "Don't say that."
"Why not?" she shot back. "At least then I wouldn't have to feel this."
That—
That hit him.
Hard.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Just breathing.
Just pain.
Then quietly, almost barely audible—
"I didn't want to hurt you."
Yuna closed her eyes.
A tear slipped down again.
"But you did," she said.
And this time—
There was nothing left to argue.