She reaches out to squeeze my hand, and the warmth of her touch sends a jolt through me. I can barely resist the urge to pull her closer, to shield her from the looming storm ahead.

"Thank you, Jungkook," she says, her voice sincere yet tinged with uncertainty. A pang of guilt twists in my gut; I feel like I'm dragging her into something she's not ready for. But the reality is harsh—Seung-joo may not recover, or he could surprise us all and pull through. He's a tough old man, and I won't discount that possibility.

I gently squeeze her hand, offering what comfort I can. "You're welcome, Y/N."

As we drive through the bustling city streets, my mind races with thoughts. Y/N has shown remarkable strength and adaptability in the face of extraordinary circumstances, but I can't help but wonder how this meeting with Seung-joo will change her. The weight of the moment hangs heavily in the air, and I'm acutely aware of every breath she takes beside me.

The car turns onto a quiet, tree-lined street, and we approach our destination—a discreet rehabilitation home. It's the kind of place where a movie star might recover from plastic surgery or a senator might go after getting a pacemaker. Or where a mafioso goes to recover from a stroke. Y/N's grip on my hand tightens, and I offer her a reassuring nod, trying to channel my strength into her.

"We're almost there," I say softly, my voice a gentle anchor in the whirlwind of emotions surrounding us. "Are you ready?"

She takes a deep breath, her gaze fixed on the approaching building. "As ready as I'll ever be."The car slows to a stop in front of a nondescript penthouse. I step out first, scanning the area for any potential threats before helping her from the vehicle. She stands close to me, swaying slightly as the weight of the moment settles over us.

"This is it," I murmur, guiding her toward the entrance. "I'll be right here with you."

"Right." She straightens her shoulders, summoning every ounce of courage as we approach the door.

I raise my hand to knock, the sound echoing in the stillness of the quiet street. As we wait for a response, I glance down at Y/N. Her expression reflects a delicate mix of fear and curiosity, pulling at my heartstrings.

The door swings open, revealing a security guard in a crisp uniform. It's time for Y/N to meet her father, and all I can hope for is that this reunion brings more healing than harm.

Once we check in, including being scanned for weapons, the guard gives us Seung-joo's room number. I keep a protective hand on Y/N's back as we navigate the sterile corridors to find it. When we reach the door, I open it, revealing a gaunt man in a wheelchair. Seung-joo's once-imposing frame is now diminished, but his sharp gaze holds the remnants of an intimidating presence as it settles on Y/N.

"Y/N. Come in, please," he croaks, his voice hoarse. I can't tell if it's from emotion or the aftermath of his stroke; the last time we spoke, he hadn't sounded so choked up.I guide Y/N into the room, my hand resting gently on the small of her back, grounding her as she steps forward. Her eyes never leave Seung-joo's face.

"Hello, Mr. Yang," she says, her voice quivering with uncertainty.

Seung-joo wheels himself back, creating space for us to enter. The room is sparsely furnished, dominated by a large desk on one side and a seating area on the other. A hospital bed sits in the far corner, surrounded by various medical equipment, a stark reminder of his condition despite the room's attempts at opulence.

I lead Y/N to a plush armchair, positioning myself slightly behind her, a silent pillar of support as I keep my hand on her shoulder.

"You look so much like your mother," Seung-joo says, scrutinizing every detail of Y/N's face with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. "Except for the eyes. Those are mine."

Y/N nods, her hands clasped tightly in her lap as if she's holding onto her composure by a thread. "I can see that."

An uncomfortable silence stretches between them, heavy with years of unspoken words and separation. Seung-joo wheels himself closer, his movements slow and deliberate. "I met your mother in Seoul. She was a ray of sunshine in my dark world. Our time together was brief but intense. When she told me she was pregnant, I was overjoyed." He pauses, the weight of his words heavy in the air. "But I was also terrified. My enemies were closing in, and they would use you and your mother against me if they found out."

Y/N shifts forward slightly, her heart racing. "So you sent us away?"

Seung-joo shakes his head, his eyes reflecting regret. "No, your mother made that choice. She knew the dangers of my world and decided to shelter you by disappearing."

Her brow wrinkles in confusion and anger. "But you knew where we were. You could have contacted us."

"I had my men watch over you from afar, ensuring you and your mother were protected," he replies, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his voice.

Y/N grits her teeth, her frustration boiling over. "Protected? We moved constantly. Mom never felt safe. How is that protection?"

His expression crumples with guilt, and I can see the remorse etched across his face. "I made many mistakes, Y/N. I thought I was doing what was best for you, but I see now how much pain I caused."

"You abandoned us," Y/N says, her voice cracking with the weight of betrayal. "Do you have any idea what that did to Mom? To me?"I step closer, my instincts screaming to intervene, but Seung-joo holds up a hand, signaling for me to remain silent.