CHAPTER 5 – CHOKE ON IT.

2026. PRESENT. SEOUL.

HELL PENTHOUSE.

☠️ SORA ☠️

When others are drinking water, black coffee, bitter lemon, or soju… I take Coke. Why? Because life can be so bitter, especially mine.

I jerk as A-jun pins me down; he is on top of me, and I’m pressed underneath him, fighting for my life. His hands find my neck, and he presses it to the pillow, choking me.

I kick my feet in the air, struggling to breathe as I stare the demon in the eye. I am pleading with all my body, all my existence, but he doesn’t let go.

Slowly, I start to feel like my consciousness is drowning, and that’s when I wake up, screaming and hugging my pillow, “Oh shit!" I nearly remove the roof with my screams, "Thank you, God! Thank you, Mary, Mother of God! Thank you, Joseph, stepfather of God. Thank you, Gautama Buddha! Thank you for working together to show me mercy!” I voice, gasping so hard it sounds like I’m still choking. My bed is soaked from sweat, the corner of my eyes stained with unshed tears, and my body trembling. I couldn't breathe, nor could I cry about it.

I gag and rush towards the bathroom, reaching the toilet bowl, I basically throw up everything I had eaten for the last 24 hours, then I drag my exhausted feet back to the room.

It is customary that you sleep to feel better and stronger, but after my sleep, I get all the way more weary, and weak, totally spent because my entire room for thoughts has been clouded, hacked, and ruined by A-jun's existence. All I can think about is that he's hiding in a corner, hidden by cobwebs, waiting to pounce, and it's dreadfully talking away my peace and my sleep.

Just as I’m about to reach my bed, I hear a knock on my door. My heart skips a beat, with A-jun’s face at the back of my mind.

“The Don asks to see you, Miss Sora.” The butler’s voice is muffled by the door. Only then did I puff out a sigh of relief, for how long do I have to be on edge in this penthouse?

I throw on an equally tired jacket, stepping out of my room.

The butler tilts his head back when he sees me, “Miss Sora, you look… horrible.”

Of course I do, I was choked in my dreams twice in 24 hours.

“Didn’t sleep well,” I retort. “Had a bad dream.”

“Does your lack of good sleep have anything to do with Sir A-jun?” he asks, and I snap my gaze towards him. He pauses before he continues, as if choosing his words wisely, “He hasn’t been in the Hell penthouse for a while now; you can rest peacefully."

“And you’re just telling me that now? You should have told me when we met at the airport.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, bowing his head slightly.

I roll my eyes in anger, not at the butler, but at the fact that I’ve been on edge for absolutely no bloody reason.

I walk into my mother’s study, and by that time, two men are speaking to her. “Hi, Mom,” I murmur, a tired yawn escaping my lips.

“You don’t look so good,” she says calmly, walking towards me.

“I didn’t sleep well,” I announce. “Dreamt horror.”

“Is it about having to go to the Hell Morgathor prison?"

Weird how I didn’t even think of that.

“No, Mom,” I assure her. “There are worse things than going to prison. For example… A-jun!”

“Don’t concern yourself about him,” my mother retorts. I wish it were that easy. I was the one whose entire childhood was traumatized by A-jun.

“For now…” she continues. “Focus on survival. The Hell Morgathor prison would be hell even without them knowing your identity. Do well to walk out on your two legs. I’d hate for you to be carried out covered with white clothing.”

“Just say ‘dead’,” I growl.

“Fine… dead!” she snaps. “Rest your mind, A-jun can’t reach you in prison, only a madman would willingly walk into prison, especially the Hell Morgathor prison, and most especially if he himself is one of the Hell Morgathor, they'd tear him to shreds just as they will do you.”

“He’s Detective Ha-joon,” my mother says, pointing at the man to her left. “He’ll walk you to prison.”

Walk me to prison? Choke on it.

“Also,” she continues, pointing at the man to her right, who kinda looks familiar. “He’s Gideon Hell Morgathor. Your cousin and the new Consigliere. He left the country years ago after his parents’ accident.”

I can remember that was about the time I was adopted into the family.

I glance at Gideon, and he smiles at me. I wish A-jun could be more like him and less like... A-Jun.

“Detective Ha-joon is here to take you to prison. Don’t keep him waiting,” she concludes, as if dismissing me.

I glance at the detective, rolling my eyes. He should wait until he gets leg cramps for all I care. Screw him.