Fate in the Rain

Midnight Promises

The neon pulse of Apgujeong hummed through the night, a glittering labyrinth of upscale boutiques, pulsing clubs, and street vendors hawking late-night snacks. Min-jae stood near Apgujeong Station, his breath misting in the cool air, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. The folder with the Choi Foundation contract was tucked inside his bag, its weight a constant reminder of the choice he hadn’t yet made. The text from Soo-jin—Meet me tonight. 10 p.m. Apgujeong Station. Come alone.—burned in his mind, each word a thread pulling him deeper into her world.He’d spent the hours since Han River Park pacing his cramped goshiwon, the flickering bulb casting shadows that mirrored his doubts. Soo-jin’s plea—You’re fighting for us—echoed in his chest, stirring a reckless hope he couldn’t shake. But the man in the dark coat, the cold-eyed Ms. Park, and the cryptic men in the SUV gnawed at his instincts. Every step toward Soo-jin felt like a step toward a cliff, and yet, here he was, waiting under the station’s glow, unable to walk away.The crowd thinned as the clock ticked past 10 p.m., the station’s escalators humming softly. Min-jae scanned the area, his heart thudding. No sign of Soo-jin, but the prickle on his neck told him he wasn’t alone. He glanced at the shadows across the street, half-expecting the man in the coat to emerge. Instead, a figure stepped from the station’s entrance, her silhouette unmistakable despite the simple hoodie and jeans. Soo-jin. No umbrella, no designer coat—just her, blending into the night like she was trying to disappear.“Min-jae,” she called softly, her voice cutting through the city’s din. She approached, her auburn hair tucked under the hood, her eyes wide with a mix of relief and urgency. “You came.”“You didn’t give me much choice,” he said, echoing his words from the park, but his tone was softer now, caught by the vulnerability in her gaze. Up close, she looked different—less like the untouchable heiress, more like a girl carrying the weight of secrets too heavy to bear.“I’m sorry,” she said, stopping a foot away, her hands twisting together. “For dragging you into this. For the men last night, for Ms. Park today. I didn’t mean for it to happen so fast.”“Then tell me what’s happening,” Min-jae said, his voice low but firm. “No more half-answers, Soo-jin. Who’s following you? What’s this escape you keep talking about? And why me?”She glanced around, her eyes scanning the street, the station, the shadows. “Not here,” she said. “Walk with me.”They moved through Apgujeong’s side streets, past glowing signs for karaoke bars and 24-hour cafés, the air thick with the scent of roasted chestnuts and soju. Soo-jin led him to a narrow alley lined with hanok-style buildings, their tiled roofs a quiet contrast to the modern chaos. She stopped at a small tea house, its wooden door half-hidden behind a curtain of ivy. Inside, the air was warm, scented with jasmine and barley tea. They slid into a private booth, the paper screen offering a fragile sense of safety.Soo-jin pulled off her hood, her hair spilling free, and leaned forward, her voice barely above a whisper. “My father’s empire isn’t what it seems,” she said. “Choi Enterprises is built on more than hotels and tech. There are… deals. Partnerships. Things that would destroy him if they came to light. I’ve seen documents, heard conversations. He’s involved with people who don’t play by the rules.”Min-jae’s stomach churned. “What kind of people?”She hesitated, her fingers tracing the edge of the table. “The kind who make problems disappear. The kind who don’t care who gets hurt. My marriage to Joon-ho isn’t just a merger—it’s a way to tie our family to theirs, to cover up what’s really going on. But I can’t do it, Min-jae. I won’t marry him.”Her voice cracked, and Min-jae’s heart twisted. He wanted to reach for her, to ease the pain in her eyes, but he held back, the folder in his bag a silent barrier. “So what’s your plan?” he asked. “You said escape. Where? How?”“There’s a place,” she said, her voice steadying. “A safehouse in Busan, set up by someone I trust. If I can get there, I can access evidence—documents, recordings—that could expose my father. But I need help. Someone outside his reach. Someone like you.”“Me?” Min-jae’s laugh was sharp, bitter. “I’m a broke student, Soo-jin. I can’t even pay my rent. How am I supposed to help you take down a chaebol?”“Because you’re not part of their world,” she said, her eyes locking onto his. “You’re not bought, not owned. And because I saw something in you last night—strength, even if you don’t see it yourself. I trust you, Min-jae. I don’t know why, but I do.”Her words hit him like a current, pulling him under. He wanted to believe her, to be the person she saw, but doubt clawed at him. “And the contract?” he asked, pulling the folder from his bag. “Your father’s men gave me this. Said it’s my way in—or out. What’s it really for?”Soo-jin’s face darkened as she scanned the pages. “It’s a leash,” she said. “Sign it, and you’re tied to him. You’d work on his projects, report to his people. He’d own you, like he owns everyone else. Don’t sign it, Min-jae. Please.”He stared at the contract, the stipend number taunting him. It could change his life—pay his tuition, clear his debts, give him a future. But at what cost? He looked at Soo-jin, her eyes pleading, and felt the pull of something stronger than money—her belief in him, fragile and fierce.“Okay,” he said finally, his voice rough. “I’m in. But I need to know everything, Soo-jin. No more secrets.”She nodded, relief washing over her face. “I’ll tell you what I can, when it’s safe. For now, we need to move. My father’s people are watching. The man you saw in the park—he’s one of them. They know I’m slipping away.”Min-jae’s heart raced. “Then why meet here? Why risk it?”“Because I had to see you,” she said, her voice soft but urgent. “I had to know you’d say yes.”Before he could respond, the tea house door slid open, and a man stepped inside. Not the man in the coat, but someone new—tall, broad-shouldered, with a face too perfect, like a K-drama star. His tailored suit screamed wealth, and his eyes locked onto Soo-jin with a possessive intensity that made Min-jae’s skin crawl.“Soo-jin,” the man said, his voice smooth but edged with steel. “You’re a hard woman to find.”Soo-jin froze, her hand gripping Min-jae’s under the table. “Joon-ho,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “How did you—”“Your father’s worried,” Joon-ho cut in, his gaze flicking to Min-jae, sharp and dismissive. “And now I see why. Who’s this, Soo-jin? Your latest charity case?”Min-jae bristled, but Soo-jin’s grip tightened, a silent plea to stay calm. “He’s a friend,” she said, her voice steady despite the tension. “Leave him out of this.”Joon-ho’s smile was cold, predatory. “A friend? Cute. But you know how this works, Soo-jin. You don’t get to make friends without consequences.” He stepped closer, his presence filling the small booth. “Come with me. Now. Or this gets messy.”Min-jae stood, his fists clenched, instinct overriding caution. “She’s not going anywhere with you.”Joon-ho’s eyes narrowed, amusement flickering. “Bold,” he said. “But you’re out of your league, kid. Walk away, or I’ll make sure you regret it.”Soo-jin stood, placing herself between them, her voice low and fierce. “Enough, Joon-ho. You don’t own me.”“Not yet,” he said, his smile tightening. “But we’ll fix that.” He glanced at Min-jae, a warning in his eyes. “Last chance, kid.”The air crackled with tension, the tea house’s warmth turning stifling. Min-jae’s pulse pounded, his mind racing. He didn’t know Joon-ho, but he knew men like him—entitled, dangerous, used to winning. He glanced at Soo-jin, her face pale but defiant, and made his choice.“Try me,” Min-jae said, his voice steady despite the fear coiling in his gut.Joon-ho’s laugh was sharp, cutting. “You’ll wish you hadn’t.” He turned to Soo-jin, his voice softening, almost intimate. “See you soon, love.”He left, the door sliding shut behind him, but the threat lingered like smoke. Soo-jin sank back into the booth, her hands trembling. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t think he’d find me so soon.”Min-jae’s heart pounded, but he reached for her hand, his touch tentative. “We’re in this together now,” he said. “But we need a plan. Fast.”She nodded, her eyes meeting his, a spark of determination reigniting. “Tomorrow,” she said. “Meet me at Namsan Tower, midnight. I’ll have what we need to get to Busan.”As they left the tea house, the alley felt darker, the city’s pulse heavier. Min-jae glanced back, and there, at the corner, was the man in the dark coat, his silhouette stark against the neon. But this time, he wasn’t alone—another figure stood beside him, holding a phone, its screen glowing like a warning.