**Sunshine's POV**
The car drove for an hour in silence.
Kael stared out the window, expression blank. That bandage on his hand was already soaking through with blood, but he didn't seem to notice or care.
I sat on the opposite side, earbuds in, his voice quietly playing through my phone. "Fracture" on repeat.
The city disappeared behind us. Trees lined the empty road. Finally, we pulled up to iron gates. Beyond them stood a massive estate—the kind that screamed old money and secrets.
The gates opened. The house loomed ahead, three stories of stone and glass, gardens overgrown, windows dark.
Kael got out without a word. I followed.
---
Inside, the house was frozen in time.
Dust covered expensive furniture. The air smelled stale, like no one had breathed here in years. Family portraits lined the walls—formal, cold faces staring down at us.
Kael walked up the grand staircase without looking back. I followed at a distance, my footsteps echoing in the empty hall.
The second floor was lined with more portraits. A woman with kind eyes who must have been his mother. A stern man in a business suit. And photos of a boy at different ages—smiling in some, serious in others.
Kael stopped in front of a closed door at the end of the hall. His hand hovered over the knob, trembling slightly.
Then he opened it.
The room was a teenager's bedroom, perfectly preserved. Posters on the walls. Books stacked neatly on shelves. A keyboard in the corner covered in dust. Everything looked like someone had just stepped out and never returned.
Kael stood in the center, jaw clenched, staring at nothing and everything.
I stayed by the door, silent. This felt too personal to intrude on.
After a long moment, he walked out without a word.
---
We moved through the house like ghosts.
Kael led me to different rooms—his mother's study, a music room with a grand piano, the library. Each space was frozen, abandoned, haunting.
He didn't explain anything. Just walked, looked, and moved on.
In the music room, I noticed awards lining the shelves. "First Place - National Youth Piano Competition." "Seoul Junior Philharmonic - Excellence Award." All dated nine to twelve years ago.
"You played piano?" I asked softly.
"Used to."
Two words. That was all.
We continued through the house. Every room told a story of a family that had once existed here—meals in the dining room, conversations in the sitting area, life in the garden visible through the windows.
And then it had all just... stopped.
---
In what looked like his father's study, I noticed a wall dedicated to newspaper clippings and framed articles. Most were about business achievements—mergers, acquisitions, company milestones.
But one article stood out, slightly off to the side, almost hidden behind a larger frame.
I stepped closer.
**"Teen Hospitalized After School Incident - Investigation Ongoing"**
The article was from nine years ago. There was a photo—a boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen, being led away by police or security. His face was partially obscured by someone's arm, but I could see dark hair, a similar build to...
I squinted at the name beneath the photo.
**Kim Jae-won, 15, student at Seoul International Academy**
The article was brief, frustratingly vague. Something about an incident at an elite private school. A student hospitalized. An ongoing investigation. And then nothing—no follow-up information, no resolution mentioned.
Kim Jae-won. The name didn't ring any bells.
I looked back at the photo. Something about the boy seemed familiar—the way he stood, maybe? But the image was too unclear to be sure.
A brother? Cousin? The family resemblance was there, I thought, but I couldn't be certain.
"Ready to leave?"
I jumped. Kael stood in the doorway, watching me.
"Sorry, I was just looking at—"
"I know." His voice was flat, emotionless. "Let's go."
---
**Kael's POV**
She saw it.
Of course she saw it. That damn article my father had insisted on framing like some kind of twisted trophy.
*"Never forget what you cost this family,"* he'd said when he put it up.
I watched Sunshine's reflection in the window as we walked back to the car. She looked confused, thoughtful. Probably trying to piece together who Kim Jae-won was.
Good luck with that. The internet had been scrubbed clean years ago. My father had paid enough money to make sure of it.
We got in the car. The driver pulled away from the house, and I felt something in my chest loosen slightly. Being there always felt like drowning.
---
**Sunshine's POV**
We'd been driving for maybe twenty minutes when Kael's phone rang.
He glanced at the screen, his jaw tightening. Then he answered.
"What?"
Even sitting on the other side of the car, I could hear a woman's sharp voice. Director Han.
"Where are you?"
"Heading back."
"You missed your therapy appointment with Dr. Yoon. She's been trying to reach you all afternoon."
Kael's hand clenched around the phone. "I'll reschedule."
"That's what you said last week. And the week before." Director Han's voice rose slightly. "Kael, you've cancelled four sessions in a row. Dr. Yoon is seriously concerned—"
"Tell her I'm fine."
"You're not fine! Your driver told me you went to the estate. Why would you go back there? You know what that place does to you—"
"I needed to clear my head."
"By dragging your new assistant to the one place you swore you'd never return to?" A pause. "Kael, listen to me. You can't keep doing this. You can't keep running from it. Remember what happened last time—"
"I remember." His voice was ice.
"Do you? Because I'm starting to worry that you're heading down the same path. The cancelled therapy, the medication you're not taking, the isolation—these are the same warning signs as before."
"Before what?" His voice was dangerous now.
Director Han went quiet for a moment. "You know what I mean."
"Say it."
"Kael—"
"Say it. Say what everyone's always dancing around. Say what you're actually worried about."
"I'm worried about you."
"No. You're worried I'm going to lose control like I did when I was fifteen. You're worried that what happened back then is going to happen again. Isn't that what you mean by 'before'?"
Silence on the other end.
"That's what I thought," Kael said bitterly. "Don't worry, Director Han. I'm very aware of what I'm capable of. I'm reminded every single day."
He hung up.
The car was suffocatingly silent.
I sat frozen, staring at my hands, pretending I hadn't heard every word. My heart was pounding.
*What happened when he was fifteen?*
*What is everyone so afraid will happen again?*
Kael stared out the window, his jaw working, that bloodied bandage on his hand a stark reminder of this morning's breakdown.
I wanted to say something. Anything. But what could I possibly say?
So I said nothing.
And we drove back to Seoul in heavy silence.
---
**Kael's POV**
She heard everything.
Of course she did. I'd practically shouted it.
I could feel her sitting there, tense, probably putting pieces together in her head. Wondering what the hell she'd gotten herself into.
Good. Let her wonder. Let her be scared.
Maybe she'd finally quit like the others.
Maybe I'd finally stop dragging innocent people into my mess.
---
**Sunshine's POV**
We arrived at KDX Entertainment as the sun was setting.
Kael got out of the car and walked toward the building without a word.
"You can go home," he called over his shoulder. "I have work to do."
I watched him disappear through the glass doors.
Director Han was waiting in the lobby. She caught my eye and gestured for me to follow her to her office.
Inside, she closed the door and let out a long breath.
"How was he?"
"Quiet. Until your phone call."
She winced. "You heard that."
"It was hard not to."
She sat down heavily. "I shouldn't have pushed him. But I'm worried. He goes to that house when he's struggling, and it's never a good sign."
"What happened there?"
Her expression closed off immediately. "That's not my story to tell."
"Everyone keeps saying that. But how am I supposed to help him if I don't understand—"
"You're his assistant, not his therapist." Her voice was firm but not unkind. "Your job is to manage his schedule, keep him on track, and call me if anything seems wrong."
"Wrong how?"
She looked at me for a long moment. "If he starts acting erratic. If he seems like he's losing control. If he does anything that reminds you of..." She stopped herself. "Just call me. Immediately."
"Okay," I said quietly.
But inside, I was screaming with questions.
---
At home that night, I couldn't stop thinking about everything.
The abandoned house. The article about Kim Jae-won. Director Han's warning. That phone conversation.
*Remember what happened when he was fifteen.*
*Don't let it happen again.*
What happened?
I pulled out my phone and searched "Kim Jae-won Seoul International Academy incident."
Nothing. Just vague mentions of "an incident" nine years ago. No details. No follow-up. Like someone had scrubbed the internet clean.
I stared at the posters on my wall. Kael's face looking back at me.
"What are you hiding?" I whispered.
My phone buzzed. A schedule from Director Han.
**Tomorrow: 7 AM interview. 9 AM music show. 2 PM photo shoot. Be there by 6 AM.**
Another long day. Another day of trying to survive Kael Devereaux's world.
I should quit.
Instead, I set my alarm for 5 AM.
Before bed, I put on his music.
*"I'm breaking in slow motion, can't you see?"*
And somewhere across Seoul, Kael Devereaux was probably alone, haunted by a past that everyone knew about but no one would name.
---
**END OF CHAPTER 4**