Victor slammed the door shut to his private hotel room, the heavy wood shuddering behind him as it locked.
His breathing was uneven, and his face was still unnaturally red. His hands shook as he grabbed a cigarette stick and went to the balcony.
“What the hell does he know…” he muttered to himself, pacing.
“What the hell does that bastard know?”
Zeno’s words rang in his ears like a curse.
“I see that you like foreign women.”
How?
How did he know?
Someone like him shouldn’t have known about it. No—he couldn’t have! He had kept it under control, only known by a few he trusted and some who wouldn’t dare defy him!
The filming had come to a halt, and despite saying it would continue this afternoon, there was a slim chance that would happen.
However, that was the least of Victor’s worries.
He couldn’t think about filming right now.
His thoughts circled only one thing.
Zeno Han. During his last statement, that boy resurfaced in his mind again. However, there was no way that they were the same person. Sanjae was dead!
So, instead, he thought of a certain someone.
“No… no way,” he muttered.
Raya.
He reached for his phone and dialed her number.
Once. No answer.
Twice. Nothing.
Three times. Straight to voicemail.
He gritted his teeth and called again. Then again.
Still nothing.
“Damn it!” he yelled, clutching the phone so hard the tempered screen began to crack. He clenched his fists and stared at the distance.
She always answered! That was their rule if she wanted him to support their son.
Something’s not right.
He dialed another number in his phone with trembling hands.
The line rang for a while before someone picked up.
“Good afternoon, MG Birthing Clinic—”
“This is Victor Lim. Where is Raya?” he cut in.
“I’m sorry—who?”
“Raya Lim. My wife. Where is she?”
“… Sir, are you her husband?”
“Yes, damn it!” he exclaimed, losing patience.
“I’m sorry, sir, but Raya left work a few days ago.”
Victor’s entire body is locked up.
“What?”
“She resigned,” the voice repeated. “She handed in her notice and left. We were under the impression she had informed her family.”
Victor didn’t even say goodbye. He hung up right away.
A few days ago?
She never told him. Granted, Victor asked her not to contact him at all, even when their son was dying.
He also wasn’t home at that time. He never went home during breaks. Being around her felt suffocating.
She always asked if he was okay. It was better to spend his moments of rest at luxurious hotels.
However, even then, he couldn’t help but feel uneasy.
Raya knew everything about him.
So, where the hell is she now?
His hands moved on their own, dialing the next number.
The hospital.
“How can we help you?”
“This is Victor Lim. I just want to ask a question about my son, Hyunwoo Lim.”
It was only at a time like this when he called Hyunwoo his son. He always felt dismayed about having a disabled son.
“Sir, I’m sorry. We can’t disclose patient information through phone calls. You are also not under the saved numbers in his name.”
“I’m his father!” Victor growled. “I demand to know—”
“I apologize, sir,” the receptionist repeated. “But we can’t share this patient’s information over the phone. Please visit the hospital directly if—”
“Useless!”
He hung up, barely holding back the urge to throw his phone toward oblivion.
Something wasn’t adding up.
He called again—this time a private number. A former classmate of his who worked as a nurse in Hyunwoo’s ward.
“It’s urgent. I need you to check my son’s room,” he said as soon as he picked up.
“Victor?”
“Yes, it’s me,” Victor exasperated.
“Right now?”
“Yes, now.”
“I’ll send you the money.”
“Alright. Hang on.”
Victor waited as the seconds dragged. The walls of the room felt tighter, and he found it hard to believe. The cigarette was also of no help at all.
The silence from the other line was unbearable.
He gripped the phone tighter. “Are you still—”
“I’m here.”
“Well?”
There was a pause.
“He’s not here.”
Victor’s heart dropped.
“What?”
“Hyunwoo. He’s not in his room. His belongings are gone, too. Everything’s… cleared out. I took a leave for my honeymoon last week, so I don’t know, but he’s not here.”
Victor’s throat dried, and his knees buckled, causing him to kneel.
“You—”
“You wouldn’t have betrayed me, Raya.”
***
Jonas Kim leaned back in his leather chair, legs lazily propped on the table in front of him. The room smelled of imported tobacco, and the air conditioner filled the silence between words.
“Who has been invited for it?” Jonas asked.
Across from him, Assistant Byun tapped at his tablet. The screen glowed faintly against his glasses as he skimmed through names.
“Phoenix is confirmed, sir,” Byun replied. “They’ve signed the preliminary agreement. It’s set to have thirty contestants in total, but it isn’t final yet.”
“Good,” Jonas said, nodding in approval. “Make sure Phoenix stays on. I have a feeling it’s going to be another iconic show of Gene PD.”
“Yes, sir. The filming’s not until October.”
“Perfect. Phoenix is still filming something.” He exhaled through his nose and adjusted his watch. “And how are the imports?”
Byun paused for a moment. “They are increasing, and it’s also making the group expand. However, we’ve been careful to maintain our standards. There must be no breach at this moment.”
“Good,” Mr. Kim straightened up. “We can’t afford a leak. As long as the members remain silent and safe, the whole club stands.”
But just as the words left his lips, a sharp ping erupted from Byun’s tablet.
A rare sound.
Byun’s usual face of nonchalance cracked just a little bit.
He reached for it immediately. Only certain alerts bypassed his custom silencer.
“What is it?” Mr. Kim asked, noticing the slight furrow in his assistant’s brow.
“Emergency flag.”
He tapped swiftly through the interface, unlocking the encrypted message. A few seconds passed in silence before he spoke again.
“One of our clubgoers.”
Mr. Kim straightened up. The tone of Byun’s voice didn’t sound good.
Jonas raised a brow. “Who?”
“Victor Lim.”
Jonas’s legs dropped from the table, boots hitting the floor with a thud.
“That guy who made it internationally big? What happened with him?”
Byun turned the tablet toward him. “It just hit the news cycle. Leaked videos and unofficial reports. He’s been accused of plagiarizing a script, verbal mistreatment of extras, crew, and… cheating on his wife.”
“Oh,” Jonas muttered, shrugging. “How is that our problem? Just remove him from our list. It’s an easy problem to solve.”
Assistant Byun returned to his air of nonchalance as he scrolled a bit further down.
“He was also said to be engaged in prostitution, and our club, Saliva, has been mentioned.”