As Ayane and Benjiro stepped outside, his chest tightened at the memory rising unbidden.

On the school roof, Dean had once whispered a name to him—Daiki.

The way Dean had said it, the voice breaking as if the name alone could shatter him… Benjiro could still hear it.

Could that Daiki be the same man inside with Dean right now?

He flinched.

The thought hit like ice water. His breath caught.
If it was, then Dean wasn’t just facing a stranger with a gun—he was staring down the ghost of the man he could never forget, even if he wanted to.

Benjiro’s fists curled at his sides.
The urge to run back in and be with him gnawed at his gut—but he had no power here. He could only wait.

“Don’t think you can run away,” Ayane’s voice cut through his storm of thoughts, sharp and warning.
“Stay in your place until we know what to do with you.”

Run away? He couldn’t. Not while Dean was still inside. Not ever.

His tongue clicked before he realized it, frustration leaking into sound. He startled at himself, but Ayane hadn’t noticed.

She was already turning to her maid.
“Please help me call my mother.”

The maid replied with a single word, without hesitation.
“Yes, miss.”

She hurried to comply, but Mrs. Cho didn’t answer her phone.

She was busy—storming down a hallway, fury radiating like fire, heading toward the man whose name she had dragged out of the hostage earlier.

The secretary jumped to her feet as Mrs. Cho strode toward a closed office.
“Madam—please, you can’t go in there—” she stammered.

Two of Mrs. Cho’s men blocked her path, trying to prevent interference.

Mrs. Cho didn’t slow.

She slammed the doors open, her voice sharp as a whip even before her eyes landed on him.
“What’s the meaning of this, Gang?!”

For a brief moment, Gang looked caught off guard—both he and his guest.

But he recovered quickly. Masking surprise with his usual charm, he smiled politely.

“We’ll revisit the agreement. I’ll make sure it’s to your satisfaction.”

Rising smoothly, he extended a hand to his guest.
“We’ll be in touch.”

The guest caught the hint and nodded.
“Of course. I’ll be in Japan for a week. We’ll meet again.”

As he left, he cast Mrs. Cho a sly, lingering smile—like he knew something she didn’t.

Once the door clicked shut, Mrs. Cho unleashed her fury.
“You tried to kill us!”

Gang sank back into his chair, unfazed.

Like a king on his throne, smugness carved into his face, his fingers tapping softly on the table.
“Oh, hello there,” he said, mockery in his smile.

Her fists clenched.
The gunfire at the mansion gates flashed in her memory—the panic on her servants’ faces, the bodyguard who had been struck down defending the estate.
Her voice trembled with rage.
“Because of you… innocent people were caught in the fight… and my daughter—”

He cut her off smoothly.
“We weren’t after you.”

He paused, watching her reaction, then added with deliberate weight:
“We wanted the boy you took in.”

Mrs. Cho froze. The boy? Dean? Or someone else?

Her mind raced back to the chaos of gunfire and bloodshed.
Dean had been shot… by a stray bullet.

Could Gang really mean that?

No. It didn’t match. They had clearly gone after her and Ayane—the car chase proved it.

Her anger surged anew.

She drew her gun, aiming straight at him.
“Don’t lie to me.”

Her finger twitched against the trigger, the line between restraint and murder razor-thin.

Gang smirked, pulse quickening—not with fear, but with excitement. 
“Are you really going to kill me? You?”

He rose from his chair, circled the desk, perched casually on its edge, her gun following his every move.
“Go ahead, then.” He spread his hands, as if daring her. “Kill me.”

Mrs. Cho stayed perfectly still. Not a word. Not a twitch.

Amused, Gang leaned closer, letting the barrel press against his tattooed chest.
“If killing your exes is your thing… then do it.”

Her hands trembled—not from fear, but hesitation.

His grin widened.
“I don’t think you can.”

Her teeth clenched.

At last, she lowered the gun, voice steady but burning with defiance.
“Get your facts right, Gang.”
She locked eyes with him, every syllable cold and precise.
“My past bastard. That’s all.”

Gang stared at her for a long moment—then barked out a laugh, loud and unrestrained. 

The sound echoed through the office, twisting her disgust even further.

He strolled back to his desk, spinning a pen lazily between his fingers as if nothing had happened.
“By the way… be careful now.”

Her eyes narrowed. Was he threatening her? Here? Directly?

Gang’s lips curved into a sly smile.
“As long as you’re around the boy… be careful.”

Her rage boiled over. She stepped closer, teeth clenched, voice sharp as glass.
“Is this a threat?”

Gang tilted his head, pretending innocence.
“No, no…” A pause. His smile widened.
“I’m just telling you… as an old friend.”

Mockery dripped from his tone, twisting the word friend into poison.

Mrs. Cho’s heart pounded with the urge to pull the trigger.
But too many eyes had seen her walk into this office. If she killed him now, she’d be ruined—and Ayane would be left alone.

Not yet.

Instead, she slammed her fist on his desk, eyes blazing.
“If anything happens to my daughter, you’ll be next.”

Gang’s smirk faltered. Exactly what she wanted.

She turned on her heel, heading for the door.

But his pride, stung, refused to let her leave in silence.
“Is this why you were in that state when we first met?” he called after her.
“And why you jumped into bed with me without hesitation?”

Mrs. Cho flinched, a flash of memory cutting deep. She couldn’t force a reply—only clenched her fists harder to hold back fury.

Kazan, standing guard outside, saw the flinch. His eyes widened. She hadn’t reacted like that even when told of her husband’s death… yet this bastard’s words had shaken her.

Rage flared in Kazan. He turned toward Gang, ready to step inside—but Mrs. Cho’s hand pressed firmly against his chest.
“It’s not worth it,” she muttered. “Let’s go.”

Kazan’s eyes burned, but he obeyed, following her out.

As she walked past, Gang caught the fire in Kazan’s glare. With a mocking wave of his fingers—bye-bye—he poured salt into the wound.

The door slammed shut behind them.

Gang leaned back in his chair, a grin crawling back onto his face.
He lit a cigarette, the flame briefly illuminating his smirk, and exhaled smoke into the still air.

Rising, he moved to the window, one hand in his pocket, gaze drifting to a gray car parked across the street.

His voice was soft, almost amused.
“Now… let’s see who’s really going to win this game.”

In this world, power belongs to the one patient enough to wait for the perfect strike—the one who can end his enemies cleanly.

Smoke curled around him as he stared out, already plotting his next move.

To Be Continued .....

✦ Author’s Note ✦

Thank you for reading Chapter 11: Smoke Before the Fire!
This chapter revealed a heated confrontation, but left even more questions burning in the air. Was Gang really after Mrs. Cho—or someone else entirely?

I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments—your theories always give me energy to keep writing! 💬✨

Stay tuned, because things are about to get even more intense…