Chapter 43-Part-1
Hi guys! Author -nim here! Please watch out on this chapter. I tried my best to show what happened here so please be ready.
(TRIGGER WARNING! THIS EPISODE CONTAINS HEAVY DYNAMIC CONTENTS! )
He should have seen it coming. Yet, the sting in Yeonho's chest was entirely real. For a fleeting moment, he had actually believed Gyeongjae was softening toward him—that the walls were finally coming down.
But it was nothing more than a cruel performance.
"Did you plan this from the very beginning?!" Yeonho demanded, his voice trembling.
"No," Gyeongjae denied instantly, his brow furrowing. "Why would I ever do that?"
"Oh, I don't know, why? To show the whole world exactly how filthy I am? To prove I'm just a whore sleeping around for cheap thrills? To watch everyone laugh at Choi Yeonho? You just wanted to mock me like the rest of them!"
The raw venom in his outburst caught both Gyeongjae and Carl completely off guard.
Thump! — Thump! — Thump!
Yeonho's chest heaved. His vision blurred, swimming in dark spots before snapping back into focus, only to fracture again.
'This… I've felt this before...'
"You…" Gyeongjae started, stepping forward, but the words died in his throat as he registered the sudden, terrifying shift in Yeonho's demeanor.
Yeonho desperately tried to claw his way back to rationality, but a tidal wave of foreign, suffocating emotions crashed over him. They didn't feel entirely like his own.
It felt like the residual, buried trauma of the body's original owner waking up from a dark subconscious grave.
He fought to stay grounded, but a phantom ache pierced his throat like needles, choking back the sob rising from his chest.
He was drowning in years of bottled misery. Then, a sudden warmth spilled over his lip. Dark red blood began to drip from his nose.
Unconsciously, Yeonho brought his fingers to his mouth, aggressively biting his nails as his mind fractured in two, caught between his own consciousness and a shattered past trying to tear its way out.
"Your nose—damn it. Carl, get me tissues right now! Take her downstairs and call Freya!" Gyeongjae barked.
Carl gave a sharp nod, immediately scooping up the unconscious Jihi and bolting down the stairs to execute the order.
Gyeongjae reached out, his hands moving to pull Yeonho's fingers away from his bleeding lips, but Yeonho slammed his palms against Gyeongjae's chest. His eyes were wide, completely unseeing.
"Stop! Don't touch me!"
Yeonho screamed. With a sudden burst of panicked strength, he shoved Gyeongjae backward, slammed the bedroom door shut, and threw the lock.
"Yeonho! Open the door!"
Gyeongjae shouted from the hallway, his fists pounding against the heavy wood. On the other side, Yeonho backed away, trembling, his face a mask of absolute terror.
Downstairs, Freya had just finished organizing the catering arrangements. The kitchen workers were packing up their equipment to leave when the sharp ring of the doorbell echoed through the foyer.
"Stay here and finish up," Freya said, wiping her hands on a damp towel. The employees nodded as she walked toward the front entrance.
When she pulled the door open, she paused. Standing on the threshold was an exceptionally tall, striking man with vibrant red hair, dressed in a relaxed v-neck silk polo and loose trousers.
"Can I help you…?" Freya blinked, caught off guard by his presence.
"I'm someone close to Yeonho," the red-haired man replied, a smooth, easy smile playing on his lips.
"Name? And what is your business here?" Freya's tone sharpened into professional alertness.
The man let out a soft, amused scoff.
"What's with this intense security? And you seriously don't know who I am?"
When Freya simply stared back unblinkingly, he sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"I'm Kang Min-hyuk. I'm here to check on Yeonho. Now, mind letting me in? I believe I've answered your questions."
Before Freya could respond, Carl's frantic voice cut through the air from the living room, shouting her name.
Distracted, Freya broke eye contact and rushed back inside. Min-hyuk, taking the silent invitation, stepped through the threshold and closed the door behind himself.
"What happened? What's going on?" Freya demanded as she entered the living room, watching Carl carefully lay the unconscious woman onto the sofa.
The rest of the crew rushed out of the kitchen, their faces turning pale when they saw their coworker.
"Jihi!" The three of them cried out in unison, swarming around the couch.
Carl didn't stop to explain. He was already pivoting back toward the grand staircase.
"We need to get upstairs now. The mistress has a nosebleed. He's having a severe episode."
Hearing that, Freya's composure cracked.
She immediately followed on his heels, her footsteps clicking rapidly against the floor.
"Mistress? Was he talking about Yeonho…?" Min-hyuk muttered to himself, his eyebrows knitting together.
The employees looked up, their eyes widening as they recognized the visitor.
"Mr. Kang? Kang Min-hyuk? Why are you here...?" The male employee asked, completely bewildered.
"Hurry up!" Freya's voice echoed sharply from the upper floor.
Everyone in the living room turned to see Carl sprinting back down the stairs at a breakneck pace. He bolted into the kitchen, grabbed a heavy screwdriver from a utility drawer, and vanished right back up the stairs.
"What is going on up there?"
"Is something dangerous happening?"
"Should we call someone?"
The employees exchanged anxious glances.
Min-hyuk didn't hesitate. Guided by an unsettling gut instinct, he quietly moved toward the stairs, determined to find out what kind of chaos Yeonho was trapped in.
Inside the master bedroom, Yeonho stood frozen against the wall. The muffled shouts and heavy thuds from outside the door pounded against his eardrums.
The walls felt like they were closing in. A suffocating paranoia gripped him; it felt like a thousand invisible eyes were watching his breakdown. His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird, his breathing turning shallow and ragged as his knees grew weak.
Looking down, he realized his fingers were still clutching Jihi's phone.
Driven by a desperate, self-destructive urge, he scrambled into the narrow, claustrophobic space between the bed and the nightstand.
Secluding himself in the tight corner beneath the dim glow of the lamp, he curled into a ball, hugged his knees tightly, and forced himself to look at the screen again.
"No… This is… I remember something like this," he choked out, tears finally spilling over his cheeks, mixing with the metallic smear of blood from his nose.
Fragmented, vivid memories began to fracture across his mind. It was the same dark void he had glimpsed while hospitalized in Russia, but the haze was gone now.
The pieces were locking into place, forming a horrific, crystal-clear picture.
The first memory hit him: he was curled up in a pitch-black room, weeping over a glowing phone screen. He was reading hundreds of vitriolic comments, death threats, and mocking posts from anonymous strangers.
A viral video was spreading like wildfire across the internet—a video catching him naked, being used and degraded by multiple men simultaneously. His parents and Hana had been the ones to "catch" him under a barrage of flashing cameras, acting horrified for the press.
But the deepest betrayal was the realization of who had was the master mind. It was Hana. She had orchestrated the entire trap, every second of his torment.
A white-hot headache flared behind his eyes, dragging him deeper into the memory, forcing him to witness the exact sequence of how his life had been systematically destroyed.
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It had started at a prestigious family gala. His father was celebrating a massive collaborative breakthrough with a powerful business conglomerate.
The venue was opulent beyond measure—crystal chandeliers dripped from high ceilings, guests dined with golden utensils at massive banquet tables, and the air smelled of expensive perfume and champagne.
The elite wore their finest silks and tailored suits, mingling under the soft glow of stage lights.
Standing at the podium on a beautifully designed stage, Yeonho's father exuded absolute authority and confidence.
"I would like to raise a glass to our esteemed business partners for trusting our vision and expanding upon this grand venture," Yeonho's father announced, lifting a crystal flute of champagne. His mother stood beside him, draped in diamonds, while Hana stood on his flank, offering a perfectly manicured, radiant smile to the crowd.
When the toast concluded, the perfect trio descended the steps, seamlessly greeting the wealthy and powerful elite who crowded around to offer their congratulations.
"I'm so envious. Their family is picture-perfect," a wealthy socialite sighed, watching them.
"Well, almost perfect. Don't forget the other twin," an older woman murmured, her voice dripping with disdain.
"Oh, heavens, I almost forgot about that boy. Weren't there rumors that he was entirely cast out?"
"Quiet down, but yes. An ungrateful, troublesome child who threw away the Chairman's generosity. Look at my son—a practicing lawyer and engaged to an incredible family."
"As they should be. My daughter was just promoted to executive…"
"My son and daughter in law were successful in their business too."
The older women continued to boast, shifting their conversation back to their own successful lineages.
"Still, the Chois look flawless as long as that miserable son isn't in the picture."
"A complete disgrace."
"Agreed."
"He shouldn't have been born, such a waste."
Standing on the far periphery of the ballroom, Yeonho leaned heavily against a marble pillar. The women hadn't bothered to lower their voices; every cruel, dismissive word had cut through the ambient music straight to him.
He looked across the room at the pristine, smiling family he was supposed to belong to.
'I'm their son too....'
Yeonho's knuckles turned white as his fists clenched. He had only attended because his father had strictly demanded his presence for public appearance, yet the guests treated him like an invisible stain on the carpet.
Unable to take the suffocating atmosphere any longer, he slipped away from the main hall.
"That's him..."
"Why's he even here?"
"So pathetic. No one wants him here, not even his own family"
"He's showing off his face that's why."
"He's shameless for attending. Can you believe it?"
"He was kicked out but obviously pretending. Pathetic..."
He felt the weight of judging eyes and whispered scorns following him down the aisle. But he kept his gaze fixed ahead, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing him break.
Turning a corner, he found himself in a vast, deserted corridor. On his left, massive floor-to-ceiling windows bathed the polished floor in cool, pale moonlight. He stopped right where the light fell, staring down at his shoes before looking up out the window.
The sky was dusted with brilliant, indifferent stars. It was breathtakingly beautiful.
"It's not fair…" he whispered, hot tears finally burning the edges of his eyes.
He let them fall silently. Once, looking at the night sky brought him comfort, making him feel like he could escape to another world. No one there to judge him. But the illusion was gone. It was just a cold, empty space.
"Excuse me?"
The sudden sound of a man's voice forced Yeonho to hurriedly wipe his eyes. He turned around quickly.
"I'm feeling incredibly lightheaded. Could you give me a hand?" The man pressed a palm against his forehead, swaying unsteadily on his feet.
Yeonho instinctively moved forward, catching him by the arms to steady him.
"You look ill. We should get you to medical personnel or a hospital," Yeonho offered gently.
The man shook his head, offering a weak smile. "No, I just need to sit down for a moment. The event isn't over yet. There's a private lounge right through there—could you help me inside?" He pointed to a heavy set of double doors down the hall.
Yeonho didn't want to involve himself with anyone tonight, especially given his fragile state, and his dad ordered to stay low but the man genuinely seemed on the verge of collapsing.
Draping the stranger's arm over his shoulders, Yeonho carefully supported his weight, guiding him down the quiet hallway and pushing the heavy door open.
"I'll call for help. Stay here for now..."
"I was lying," the man whispered into his ear.
Yeonho stiffened, turning his head just in time to see the man's weak demeanor vanish into a sharp, predatory grin.
The doors swung open completely, revealing a large, lavishly furnished suite. Inside sat half a dozen men dressed in expensive tailored suits—sons of prominent executives and powerful corporate families.
A cold, heavy knot formed in Yeonho's stomach. Sensing immediate danger, he tried to spin on his heel to escape, but the man behind him planted a hand firmly on his back and shoved him forward.
Yeonho hit the hardwood floor hard, the air knocked from his lungs. He scrambled to turn around just as the heavy doors clicked shut behind him, locking him in.
"Well, look who finally arrived. Our pretty boy."
"Let's get this show on the road!"
"Took you long enough, we've been waiting!"
The men erupted into crude, synchronized laughter, celebrating like predators that had finally cornered their prey.
"What is this? What are you doing? Let me out!" Yeonho demanded, pushing himself up off the floor, his chest heaving with mounting panic.
"Look at him, he honestly has no idea."
"Haha! That's fine. Makes it better for his first time."
"We should get started. There are plenty of us here who want a piece of the Choi family's hidden beauty. Let's see how tight the Choi family's son really is."
"Grab him."
"Throw him on the bed."
An absolute dreadful feeling seized Yeonho as the reality of the trap set in.
The men began stripping off their suit jackets, unbuckling their belts and unzipping their trousers with casual, terrifying ease, while a few advanced toward him with sinister smiles.
"Stay back! Get away from me!"
Yeonho scrambled backward, his back hitting the solid frame of the man who had tricked him in the hallway.
"Where do you think you're going, baby? Don't run off now."
The man clamped a brutal grip around Yeonho's wrist, dragging him toward the center of the room.
"Stop fighting. You'll feel good soon, hahaha!" one said, sitting on the bed.
"Let go of me, you bastard! Get your fucking hands off me!"
Yeonho screamed, raining frantic, desperate punches against the man's arm, but another figure stepped in, pinning his other wrist and dragging him relentlessly toward the mattress.
"Feisty, huh? I like it when they fight," one of them laughed.
In a matter of seconds, Yeonho was slammed down onto the mattress. Multiple heavy bodies swarmed over him, half-naked now, hands anchoring his wrists, arms, legs and ankles to the bed, completely pinning him down.
"No! Get your filthy hands off me! Stop it!"
Yeonho shrieked, thrashing his entire body against their holds. The weight pressing down on him was suffocating, and the iron grips on his limbs bruised his skin.
"Be quiet you noisy bitch. We're doing you a favor here," one scoffed.
"Jesus, look at this skin... it's smoother than any bitches I've ever slept with," another whispered, dragging a rough finger down Yeonho's pale cheek.
"Come on, strip of his clothes already."
"No!.... Don't touch me!" Yeonho yelled out.
"Stay still and stop moving you little shit! Damn it!"
Yeonho fought with every ounce of strength he possessed—kicking, biting, and screaming for help into the empty room.
But the resistance was useless against their combined weight.
A sharp glint of metal flashed as one of them produced a pair of heavy scissors, and with a harsh, tearing sound, his top was shredded and torn away from his chest.
"No! Get off me! Stop! Please, stop!"
Yeonho convulsed, trying to twist away, but the hands holding him down only tightened, pinning him flat.
"I'll remove this next," said another with his own scissor, aggressively tearing away the rest of his clothing.
Within moments, he was stripped entirely naked, completely vulnerable and exposed beneath the leering, hungry gazes of the men hovering over him.
"Look at this, it's pinker than a woman, hahaha," one said mockingly, his laughter echoing in the tight space.
"Your nipples look lonely. I'll give them my attention," said another, leaning heavily over Yeonho's chest. He slammed his mouth down, biting and sucking roughly against his skin.
"No! Stop that! Disgusting!" Yeonho clenched his jaw, tears running down his cheeks, terrified of what was happening.
Greedy hands and unwanted fingers were all over his body, violating every inch of him.
"Woah! Isn't this just like a woman?" said the man positioned at Yeonho's legs, forcing his knees apart and spreading them wide.
"Let me see!"
"Holy shit! It's pale and pink. What the fuck."
"Are you sure you're a guy, Mr. Choi Yeonho? Your hole looks tastier than any woman I've fucked before."
Without warning, the man shoved a rough finger deep inside him.Yeonho's voice cracked into a shrill scream of pain.
"Ack—!... H-hurts!..." His entire body went rigid, his spine locking in shock.
"Damn it. I'm not waiting. I'll just shove it in," the man muttered, positioning his hardened length.
Hearing those horrific words, Yeonho's eyes widened in horror. He tried to look down, but the guy sitting beside his head grabbed his hair and slammed his face down into the pillow.
"Suck on this…" the man commanded, aggressively slapping his hardened cock against Yeonho's mouth.
"Fuck, your lips are more pretty than my wife's." Before Yeonho could twist his head away, the man brutally forced his cock deep inside Yeonho's mouth, cutting off his air.
"—Mgh!" A muffled, strangled scream caught in Yeonho's throat from the sudden, choking intrusion.
"Fuck, feels good…" The man suddenly gripped Yeonho's neck, squeezing tightly, choking him until his vision swam.
'Please… Someone.., s-save me please…'
The desperate plea repeated like a broken mantra in his mind, though he knew too well it wasn't going to happen. He was completely trapped with so many monsters, but still, he hoped.
'Why is this happening to me?...'
He knew people hated him, but he never imagined their cruelty would reach this level of pure depravity.
As Yeonho was suffocating, the man moving between his legs opened him up even more. He positioned himself, and in one brutal, unyielding motion, he shoved his hard cock completely inside Yeonho's hole. Then, he started thrusting his hips at a fast, relentless pace.
"HNGN!... Ungh!... Hmp!"
Yeonho screamed in a muffled voice against the cock in his mouth every time the man thrust into him.
The brutal friction was tearing his skin apart.
It hurt so badly that warm, slick blood began to flow out of his hole, smearing against the sheets.
Then, he heard the heavy click of the door open, and one of the men was talking to someone outside.
Desperate to ask for help, Yeonho pulled his head away from the man choking him, with the man's buried cock inside his throat finally gone, he harshly gasp for air, his tear-blinded eyes locking onto the door.
"Help! Please help me!"
Yeonho shouted, his voice hoarse and broken.
"Help me please!"
But his eyes widened in sheer horror when he saw the figure step into the room.
It was Hana.
Hana stepped inside for a moment, looking directly at the bed. Her cold eyes swept over the blood-stained scene without a single trace of emotion or pity.
"Use this," Hana said evenly. Her personal assistant stepped forward, handing a small box containing a loaded syringe to one of the men. The man took it, grinning, and bowed to her.
'Hana... How could you...'
Yeonho watched Hana turned around, abandoning him.
'No. Dont leave... Please...'
He watched in utter despair as Hana was casually walking slowly back out toward the safe, bright hallway.
In that exact second, a wild surge of adrenaline kicked into his system.
With a wild, animalistic strength, he pushed the men away, throwing them off balance just long enough to scramble off the edge of the bed.
"Fuck! He's running!"
"Get him!"
"Hold him down, you idiots!"
Yeonho fell hard onto the floor, but he didn't care about the pain. He began crawling desperately toward the open door, dragging his bleeding body forward, scraping his skin.
He didn't care that he was completely naked, because that open door offered his only chance at freedom.
He kept crawling, stumbling on his knees, ignoring the scratches burning his skin. He wanted to get out.
But the suite was massively spacious, the door feeling miles away.
"What the fuck are you doing! Grab him!"
"Get him or we're fucked!"
The men scrambled after him, but Yeonho wasn't going to let them.
With a few more desperate strides, he was almost there. His hand reached out, his fingertips brushing the cold wood of the door frame, when he felt a sharp, sting pierced the side of his neck.
Yeonho gasped, and froze, slowly looking back.
Standing over him was one of the men, holding up the now-empty syringe with a cruel smile.
Suddenly, an unnatural, heat exploded in Yeonho's veins. It felt like his blood and body was turning to liquid fire.
His arms collapsed beneath him, and he fell flat on the floor, panting heavily as the entire room began to tilt, spin, and blur into streaks of color.
The man threw the empty syringe carelessly to the floor, lifted Yeonho's limp body up, and walked back to the bed.
"Now let's do this the right way. This time, no more running ," the man laughed sneeringly, throwing Yeonho back onto the mattress, looming over him.
Yeonho's limbs felt completely like jelly, burning sensation coursing through his muscles. He looked around, his hazy vision registering his own body reacting unnaturally to the chemical.
"Look at this, you're hard. You should be grateful Ms. Choi provided this drug, otherwise you wouldn't even be able to enjoy what's about to happen to you," The man violently wrenched his legs open once more.
Yeonho could only weakly shake his head, sobbing into the pillow as all the remaining strength faded from his body.
"No… Don't.. please…" Yeonho whimpered in a quiet broken sound.
"Shhh. Now let's get back to business."
The man forced his dick inside him again, but this time, Yeonho couldn't fight back. His body was completely paralyzed by the drug, a prisoner within his own skin as the man started thrusting his hips mercilessly.
The other men leaned over Yeonho's chest, greedily licking, sucking, and biting his nipples and all over his skin, while his mouth was occupied once more.
He wanted to bite off the cock in his mouth, wanted to claw their eyes out, but he had absolutely no strength left to move a finger.
Yeonho wept in silent, absolute destruction as the men took turns violating his body, passing him around like a cheap, discarded toy in the dark.
The spacious room was filled with obscene, wet noises, the heavy groaning of men, and their cruel laughter as they threw degrading words at Yeonho, satisfying themselves completely on his broken body.
'Save me, someone... Anyone... Please..."
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