"You must feel awful. Would you like to sit down?" Hongjoong suggested. He had to stay on his toes. Park's beauty was deceptive and seeing a beautiful person in pain swayed the hearts of many. 

But Hongjoong had seen those touches to the pastor. The whimpers that swayed all those old mashers. 

Park might already be on the prowl for his next victim.

Hongjoong couldn't be distracted by that beauty, or he might be next.

Park's smile was dull with pain.

"No, thank you." Once more, he wiped his tears and exhaled. The pastor left them to attend to the other guests and Park looked down at the grave, clutching his purse to his chest. The hole in the frozen winter earth matched the depressive bleakness of the weather.

"I have heard about your prior losses. I am so sorry to hear another soulmate of yours died," Hongjoong carefully noted. 

The dark veil shadowed Park's eyes. The chill breeze made Hongjoong shiver, but it didn't touch those expensive fabrics.

"I am cursed with perpetual loneliness," Park whispered under his breath. "Everything I touch fouls away."

Hongjoong would have pointed out that Park could find himself younger matches so he wouldn't have that issue, but that defeated the purpose of gaining riches, no? It was much easier to conceal the curtains of an old person than a young egg.

When another gust of wind whirled through the dead grass, Park lifted his eyes from the grave. He nodded politely at Hongjoong, but the look in his eyes was cold, like the overcast sky.

Did he suspect something?

"Thank you for your company. I might retreat from the public eye for a while to tend to my grief," he suggested, and Hongjoong nodded. They seized each other up, searching for weaknesses as if Park had reason to be suspicious of people. Or reason to be followed.

How interesting.

The beautiful smile plastered onto blood-red lips was disingenuous. Why touch the pastor's back, why smile at a stranger in mourning of your recently bereaved husband? Every alarm bell rang in Hongjoong's mind and Park must have noticed his keen eye.

Though Hongjoong was cautious about staying undercover, he prided himself on picking up on these things.

Perhaps there was no Mister Jeong among those coworkers. Perhaps Park knew them all for his alibi and his plans. Or for future seductions.

A faint trickle tickled on the backs of Hongjoong's hands. He peered up at the sky and Park also lifted his eyes from their stare down. Rain clouds billowed overhead to wash away the grief of everyone attending the funeral.

When the drizzle started picking up, Park bowed a polite head at Hongjoong.

"I should go now. Have a safe journey home." The depths of his eyes didn't convey any kindness. They were cold, calculating like those of a hatchet man.

Hongjoong was sure of it. Seonghwa Park murdered all four of his husbands for their cabbage. 

Now he only needed evidence.

"Of course. May your sorrow be gentle with you," Hongjoong replied, not touching him for a polite greeting. Cold eyes, blood-stained hands. Hongjoong needed to be careful. Park would probably look into him the second he arrived back in his gaff.

Did a mansion await him? A bottle of wine to celebrate his success? A secret lover, perhaps, whom he shared those riches with?

Put off by this fraudulent beauty that lured good eggs into his grasp, Hongjoong turned. 

Park wouldn't waste a second mourning outside of the public eye.

As his chinch disappeared back into the church, Hongjoong hastily huddled under a nearby building. Below the overhang, he scribbled the notes most vital for this encounter. Soon, the deafening rain poured down so hard he could barely make out the church anymore, so it was time to go home. For now, he should rest and gather his mind.

Today, he gained no intel on the details of the murders, but he witnessed Park's pan about his deceased husband. Tempting the public with his appearance, crying crocodile tears and being welcoming towards people ready to distract him from his grief and marry him anew.

His looks and talent for acting made it easy for him to find his next victim. That was probably how he switched through his husbands so fast. If not for his blinding beauty, the vile core of him would give away his gambit.

But Hongjoong had a bulge on him. He knew about those criminal secrets, while Park could only assume his identity.

On his way home, Hongjoong made more notes of their conversation and everything he remarked in Park's mannerisms. The tears, his sly speech and his ignorance towards his grief as he carried on a regular conversation. The peeper left his thoughts to stew while he bit an egg and huddled over his desk under the small light after night fell.

The next step would be to get close enough to question him about his past. Hongjoong should be patient and wait for an opening. Perhaps Yunho could get him in there through an associate. Otherwise, Hongjoong would reach out first. He had to find out more about the health conditions of these four husbands, and about the funds which went to Park after each of their violent ends.

Yunho had organised a meeting with the cutter responsible for their final preparation, so Hongjoong could have a look at the medical records first and then find out how the results aligned with Park's report.

Tired after his long day, Hongjoong soon crawled into his bed. His shudders haunted him as those red lips smiled so temptingly while cold eyes calculated the necessity to get rid of Hongjoong before he found anything of worth.

Go to chapter 7