We sat down at a table overlooking the pond. For a few minutes, neither of us spoke. I watched Nikia chase butterflies, and he watched me.
“You have questions?” he said finally.
“Yeah, I do.”
I took a breath. “Why are you doing this? Helping us, protecting us. What do you get out of it?”
He was quiet for a long time. When he finally spoke, his voice was different—softer, sadder.
“I had a daughter once,” he said. “Her name was Hannah. She was six years old when she died. My wife too. Car accident. Drunk driver ran a red light.”
My throat tightened. “I’m so sorry.”
“I wasn’t there when it happened. I was at a business meeting. I got the call two hours later.” He paused, staring out at the pond. “I’ve spent the last eight years trying to figure out what I’m supposed to do with all this power I have… and no one left to protect. And then I saw you.”
I swallowed. “You saw us.”
He nodded. “I saw Nikia on her knees begging for her mother’s life. And I saw you fighting to breathe while people just stood there and watched. And I thought… not again. Not if I can stop it.”
Without thinking, I reached across the table and placed my hand over his. He looked down at our hands, then back up at me. For the first time since I met him, I saw something in his eyes that wasn’t control or authority—vulnerability.
“I don’t expect anything from you, Adrien,” he said. “But I’ve decided I’m going to protect you and Nikia. Because you deserve safety, and because I can give it to you.”
“This isn’t just about your daughter, is it?”
He smiled slightly. “No, it’s not.”
My heart was pounding. I didn’t know what to say. Before I could figure it out, Nikia came running over holding a flower she’d picked.
“Look, Mommy, can we bring this home?”
“Of course, baby.”
Young Chul stood. “I have something to ask you, Nikia.”
She looked up at him, curious.
“Would it be okay if I took you to a children’s museum next weekend? They have a dinosaur exhibit.”
Nikia’s eyes went huge. “Really?”
“Really. But only if your mom says yes.”
They both looked at me. I thought about my family’s warnings, about the articles, about everything I didn’t know. Then I thought about how safe I felt when he was around.
“Yes,” I said. “We’d love that.”
As we left the restaurant, Young Chul’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen and his entire face changed—hard, cold, dangerous.
“I need to take this,” he said, stepping away.
I watched him walk off, his voice low and sharp as he spoke into the phone. And for the first time, I saw the man everyone else feared.
It was Tuesday afternoon when my phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number. I almost didn’t open it. I’d gotten good at ignoring strange calls and texts after blocking DeAndre, but something made me click on it.
The photo loaded slowly. My stomach dropped. It was Nikia walking out of her school, backpack on, holding her teacher’s hand. Taken that day—I recognized the outfit she’d worn that morning.
Below the photo, a message: You think he can protect you forever?
My hand started shaking so badly I almost dropped the phone. I immediately called Young Chul. He answered on the first ring.
“Adrien.”
“Someone sent me a picture of Nikia from today outside her school,” I said. My voice cracked. “They’re watching her.”
“Forward me the message right now.”
I did, my fingers fumbling over the screen.
