chapter 29

Eun-jae opened his mouth, ready to tell him that no, that wasn't just scary, that was psychotic, but the words never got a chance to leave his lips.

Because before he could say anything, the door behind them suddenly slammed open. A rush of footsteps followed. The click of safeties being turned off.

"Don't move!"

Guards. Guns. Shit.

Eun-jae tensed immediately, body coiling tight as his mind worked at lightning speed. He could take maybe two down, three if he was lucky, but there were more coming—too many, too fast.

And then—a hand fisted into his shirt.

Before he could react, before he could even process it, Caesar yanked him forward.

"Get ready."

Eun-jae barely had time to breathe before his instincts flared. "Get ready for what—" Then he saw where they were. The window. The open window. His blood ran cold.

"Oh, fuck no—"

"Jump."

"The fuck you me—"

And then he was yanked.

The world tilted. Gravity disappeared.

Air whooshed past his ears, the sharp wind slicing against his skin as the two of them plummeted. Eun-jae's stomach flipped violently, his breath catching in his throat as he braced for impact—

CRASH.

They landed hard against the roof of a moving car. The metal dented beneath them, the force rattling through Eun-jae's entire body as pain exploded through his ankle.

"Fucking hell." The sharp, searing agony shot straight up his leg, making his vision blur for a second. His ankle. He definitely fucked up his ankle. Meanwhile, Caesar? The bastard didn't even flinch. No sound. No sign of discomfort. Instead, he moved as if nothing had happened—ripping open the driver's side door and grabbing the poor bastard behind the wheel.

And then? He threw him out. Like. Literally. One second, the driver was in the car. The next? Gone. Eun-jae barely managed to lift his head in time to see the guy's body rolling down the pavement like a discarded fucking suitcase.

"Did he just—"

Caesar slid into the driver's seat. Smooth, effortless. Like this was completely normal. And then—he drove off.

Without.

Him.

Eun-jae's brain stuttered. His mouth opened, then closed. "This motherfucker." Pain be damned, he hauled himself up with sheer rage-fueled determination, gritted his teeth, and grabbed onto the edge of the car. Then, despite the fiery protest from his ankle, he threw himself into the backseat.

And that was when he saw her.

A woman. In the front passenger seat. Trembling. Whimpering. Tears streaking down her face. Her wide, terrified eyes flickered between Eun-jae and Caesar, her entire body shaking like a leaf caught in a storm.

Eun-jae blinked.

"Wait, who the f—"

BANG.

A single gunshot.

The car filled with the smell of gunpowder and blood. The woman slumped forward. Silent. Still. Dead.

Eun-jae's breath caught in his throat, his body going rigid as his brain short-circuited. He barely had time to react before—

More gunfire.

From behind them.

Bullets shredded the air, slamming into the car with loud, metallic thunks.

"Shit!"

Eun-jae ducked on instinct, heart hammering against his ribs. The windows shattered, shards of glass flying everywhere as the enemy fire intensified.

Caesar? Didn't even blink. Didn't duck. Didn't react at all. Instead, he just kept driving. Fast. Faster. Straight for the front gates.

Eun-jae's eyes widened.

"CAESAR, wait—"

Caesar did not wait. He did not slow down. He did not acknowledge the fucking metal gates standing in their way.

And then—

CRASH.

The impact ripped through the car, metal screaming as they barreled straight through. Glass shattered, steel bent, debris flew everywhere.

And just like that—they were out. Gone.

Bullets still rang behind them, but they were too fast now. Too far away. And as the gunfire finally faded into the distance, as the adrenaline slowly began to settle, Eun-jae sat there in the backseat, staring at Caesar. At his hands, still on the wheel. At his calm, unbothered face.

And finally—finally—he exhaled.

"I need a fucking drink."

Caesar glanced at the rearview mirror, and then—he laughed.

Not just a chuckle. Not just a quiet, smug little exhale. A full-blown, deep, rumbling laugh. The kind that sent a slow, crawling shiver down Eun-jae's spine.

The kind that made him feel like he was trapped in a car with a fucking lunatic.

Eun-jae's head snapped up, eyes narrowing as he glared daggers at the back of Caesar's head. His heart was still hammering against his ribs, the adrenaline still surging through his veins, and yet—this deranged asshole had the audacity to sit there and laugh?

"What the fuck is so funny, you lunatic?" Eun-jae snapped, his voice sharp with disbelief, frustration, and a healthy dose of what the actual fuck.

Caesar didn't respond right away. He just kept driving, fingers tapping against the steering wheel, his laughter lingering in the air like smoke—low, rich, utterly infuriating.

And then, finally, he spoke.

"Oh, nothing… just… you."

That chuckle. That fucking chuckle.

Eun-jae swore he felt his soul leave his body for a second.

Me? ME?! This bastard just ripped a man's face off, threw another one out of a moving car, shot a woman in the head like it was nothing, and fucking crashed through a METAL GATE—AND HE THINKS I'M FUNNY?!

He sat there, blinking, trying to process the sheer, unhinged, batshit insanity of it all. The car still smelled like blood and gunpowder, his ankle was throbbing like a bitch, there was fucking glass in his hair, and yet somehow, he was the thing that amused Caesar?

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I miss the joke?" Eun-jae scoffed, arms crossing as he leaned forward, his tone laced with pure, unfiltered sarcasm. "Because I don't remember doing anything remotely fucking funny. But please, enlighten me, oh great and terrifying Tsar, what exactly about me is so goddamn hilarious?"

Caesar's smirk didn't fade. If anything, it deepened.

"Everything."

Eun-jae groaned, dragging a frustrated hand down his face. Oh my God. Oh my actual fucking God.

He didn't know what was worse—the fact that they had just barely escaped certain death, or the fact that Caesar was clearly enjoying every second of this.

"You are so fucking insufferable," Eun-jae muttered, leaning back against the seat and closing his eyes, trying—really fucking trying—to keep what little was left of his sanity intact.

Caesar chuckled again. That deep, amused, endlessly entertained chuckle.

And Eun-jae?

Eun-jae was going to need a stronger drink.

2:20 AM – Local Hotel

The dimly lit bathroom was filled with the steady rhythm of falling water, the sound echoing against the sleek marble tiles. Steam curled in the air, clinging to the mirrors, distorting the reflections like a fevered dream. The only figure within that haze was Caesar—standing beneath the cascading shower spray, his head tilted downward, droplets sliding down the hard, sculpted planes of his body.

The water traced the ridges of his muscles, streaming down the length of his broad shoulders, rolling over his chest, disappearing into the deep grooves of his abdomen before slipping lower. Every inch of his body was marked by both time and violence—old wounds, fresh bruises, scars carved into his skin like a brutal roadmap of survival.

But none were as striking as the ink.

Across his broad, powerful back, an intricate tattoo sprawled across his skin, etched into him like a legacy he could never erase. A two-headed snake, its sinuous body coiling around a crown, both heads poised with fangs bared—one shimmering gold, regal and pristine, the other black as the void, sinister and unyielding. Between them, a dagger pierced through the crown, splitting royalty in two—a silent omen, a message carved in blood and venom.

As the water continued its relentless descent, it dripped down the jagged contours of his chest, flowing over yet another mark of power—The Two-Headed Eagle. Its wings spread wide across his chest, a symbol of dominance, of reign, of something old and unwavering. One claw clutched a dagger, sharp and merciless, the other grasped scales, the ever-tilted weight of justice. And in the very center—the crest of the Karpov-Troitsky family. A name that still sent tremors through the underworld, a name drenched in both history and infamy.

Caesar lifted a hand, raking his fingers through his damp blonde hair, pushing it back as beads of water clung to the ends before falling away. His lips curled—not in a smile, not in amusement, but something more elusive. Something darker.

Then, a chuckle.

Low, deep, hollow.

The sound reverberated through the enclosed space, a cruel whisper in the suffocating steam. His reflection in the fogged-up mirror barely showed a face anymore—just a silhouette, a phantom of a man who had long since stopped being just flesh and bone.

Caesar exhaled slowly, the warmth of the water doing nothing to ease the ice in his veins. He was already thinking ahead. Already calculating. Already planning.

Because this wasn't over.

Eun-jae exhaled through his nose, his patience running thinner than a threadbare carpet as he sat at the small hotel table, glaring down at his swollen ankle submerged in a bowl of ice cubes. The cold bit at his skin like a thousand tiny needles, a sharp contrast to the warmth of the dimly lit room.

"Ugh, it's so damn cold," he grumbled internally, his fingers twitching as if resisting the urge to yank his foot out. But pain was better than limping like a broken doll.

His eyes flickered toward the closed bathroom door, where the sound of running water still filled the air. The culprit of his current suffering was in there, probably scrubbing off the remnants of the night's chaos as if nothing had happened. Meanwhile, here he was, a victim of that lunatic's reckless decisions, nursing a twisted ankle because someone thought it would be fun to fling him out of a goddamn window.

"This is all that bastard's fault," Eun-jae fumed, shifting slightly in his chair and wincing at the dull throb in his foot. "And there he is, standing under a hot shower, probably humming to himself like he didn't just yeet me into midair like a sack of trash. Freaking lunatic."

His glare deepened.

If there was any silver lining to this ridiculous situation, it was that Caesar's credit card worked flawlessly. Ice cubes? Paid. Painkillers from the minibar? Paid.

"Honestly, if that card had been declined, I don't even know what I would've done. Limped to the reception desk and flirted my way into a free stay? No, actually, scratch that—I'd have found that bastard's wallet and sold one of his fancy rings on the black market."

Then, the sound of a lock clicking broke his thoughts.

The bathroom door swung open, releasing a wave of residual steam into the room. Caesar stepped out, fully dressed—a crisp white shirt tucked into dark slacks, sleeves lazily rolled up to his forearms, platinum blonde hair slightly damp but effortlessly styled.

Eun-jae blinked.

"Wait… fully dressed?"

He tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes as he studied the man. Something about this felt… off.

"Is he shy or something?" he wondered, his lips twitching in amusement. "No way. A man like Caesar doesn't get shy. If anything, he's the type to step out in a towel, or worse, stark naked just to make a point. But nope—fully dressed, buttoned up, prim and proper like some gentleman with a sense of modesty. Unbelievable."

Eun-jae's gaze lingered, curiosity momentarily overtaking his irritation. He didn't understand it. "Why go through the trouble? We're both men, it's not like there's anything to hide. Hell, if I had his body, I'd walk around shirtless for the sheer fun of it. Ah well, whatever. None of my business."

His stare must have lasted a second too long because suddenly—

Caesar turned his head, locking eyes with him.

The sharp blue of his irises glowed under the dim lighting, his expression unreadable. Then, a smirk.

He reached for the whiskey bottle on the table, fingers curling around the glass, and as he poured himself a drink, his voice came low and teasing.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Caesar mused, swirling the liquor in his glass before taking a sip. His smirk widened. "Are you trying to get me hard by staring so intensely?"

Eun-jae blinked.

Then scoffed.

"Oh, for fuck's sake."