"Oh, my sweet and intelligent nephew..." Kim Ja-Kyung barged into Namjoon's office, his voice laced with mocking familiarity.

Namjoon looked up, his eyes filled with disgust and barely contained malice. He hated his uncle to the core. The very sight of him sent a wave of anger through him, tightening every muscle.

Clenching his jaw, Namjoon stood up slowly, his gaze never leaving Ja-Kyung. "Do you have any manners, or did you sell those in your so-called mafia market?" he spat out, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Ja-Kyung's smirk faltered for a moment, his eyes flashing with anger. "Watch your tone, Namjoon... Have you really forgotten who I am?" he said, sitting down with a smug expression, clearly enjoying the tension.

Namjoon didn't reply, his fists clenching tighter as he stood rooted in place.

"A fucking old hag," he muttered under his breath, forcing himself to stay calm. He knew too well what could happen if this man's temper flared—his family would be in danger. He couldn't afford to let his anger win, not here, not now.

"Why are you here..." Namjoon ground out through clenched teeth, each word dripping with barely restrained fury.

His uncle smirked, clearly enjoying Namjoon's frustration. With a slow, deliberate motion, he reached to his belt holster and pulled something out. The sight made Namjoon's stomach drop for a second, but he held his composure.

Ja-Kyung's smirk deepened as he aimed the gun directly at Namjoon, expecting some flicker of fear or panic to break through his nephew's calm exterior. But Namjoon stood firm, not a hint of fear in his eyes.

"My dear Joon," Ja-Kyung said, his voice oozing false affection. "What did I say earlier? You have to tackle this fucking case... and yet, I'm not getting any results. Why is that?"

He flicked the safety off with a sharp click, anticipating that the threat would finally unsettle Namjoon.

But Namjoon didn't flinch.

"Do you think I'm a magician?" Namjoon replied, his voice cool and measured. "A case like this takes time." He met Ja-Kyung's gaze without a blink, exuding a calm that only seemed to infuriate his uncle more.

Ja-Kyung's grip tightened on the gun, his frustration rising. "I don't care how much time it takes—you're running out of it."

But Namjoon remained unfazed.

Ja-Kyung stood abruptly, pressing the cold barrel of the gun hard against Namjoon's forehead. The intensity of his threat filled the room.

"I don't care about all that legal crap... that girl is clearly leading this case. You better do something, or I'll deal with your family instead," Ja-Kyung snarled.

At the mention of your involvement, Namjoon's heart skipped a beat, his tension evident. But Ja-Kyung hadn't noticed the depth of Namjoon's reaction—he was focused on his own power. When Ja-Kyung's smirk widened, he shifted the conversation back to Namjoon's family.

"You love your family, don't you?" Ja-Kyung's voice dripped with menace.

Namjoon let out a subtle sigh of relief. Ja-Kyung was fixated on his family—not you. He doesn't know about your past or how much you mean to him.

But the relief was short-lived. Namjoon's mind snapped back to his family's security. His jaw clenched again, weighing his options. He couldn't let this man get to them.

"You can't even touch a hair on their heads, you asshole," Namjoon growled, locking eyes with his uncle in a dangerous stare. The tension was palpable, like a coiled spring ready to snap.

Ja-Kyung smirked, unfazed by the threat, and without warning, slammed the butt of the gun hard against Namjoon's forehead, leaving a deep, purple bruise. Namjoon clenched his jaw, fighting the surge of rage. He knew he couldn't let his temper take control. If he acted out of anger, it could mean a different kind of trial—a murder case with him as the defendant.

"Then give me results, nephew," Ja-Kyung taunted before walking toward the door. He paused, his voice dripping with menace. "Next case hearing, I want an outcome."

Namjoon didn't respond, only glaring as his uncle left the room. Once alone, he exhaled slowly, sinking into his chair. He closed his eyes, feeling the dull throb of the bruise on his forehead, but his mind was elsewhere—racing, planning, calculating.

He had to protect his family, and now, you. But the clock was ticking, and Ja-Kyung wasn't going to wait forever.

He was feeling suffocated in these current life problems

Namjoon leaned back in his chair, eyes closed, struggling to make sense of his thoughts.

"Mom...what do I do?" he whispered to himself. On one side was his family, their safety hanging by a thread. On the other side was you—a fierce opponent in court, but so much more outside of it. You were the girl who had once confessed her love to him, someone he'd pushed away for reasons he could barely justify now.

Regret settled deep in his chest, heavy and unshakable. If only he could go back and change things, maybe life would be different. Maybe you'd still be by his side, not standing opposite him in this deadly game.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. The weight of his guilt pressed down on him. It was more than just a tactical misstep in court—it was personal. Too personal. How did he ever let it come to this?

The sharp sting of regret made his eyes burn, but he blinked away the tears. There was no time to dwell on the past. He had to make a choice, and soon.

Namjoon's jaw clenched, forcing a bitter smile.

"But don't worry, soon you'll be in my arms again," he muttered to himself, his voice laced with a mixture of determination and longing. "We'll have that life together... a happy family. Soon."

He repeated it like a mantra, trying to convince himself more than anyone else. Deep down, he knew things weren't that simple. Not with the path he'd chosen. But still, he held onto that hope—a future where he could finally make things right, where the chaos of their present lives would somehow fade into peace.

But hope wasn't a strategy, and he knew that too. Soon wasn't soon enough.

' WOUNDS OF GUILT ARE PAINFUL THAN STABS ....'

______________________________________

TBC

{Fact: Namjoon is an atheist in this story he worships his mother like his god}

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