All Chapters of Bloodline of Sin: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The ceiling was the wrong shade of white. It was the first thought that pierced the thick, cotton-heavy fog wrapping Han Jun-woo’s brain. It wasn’t the warm, textured cream of his stepfather’s estate in Seongbuk-dong, nor was it the exposed industrial concrete of his loft in Manhattan. This was a sterile, predatory white, smooth as bone, framed by sharp, minimalist moulding that looked less like decoration and more like a cage.Jun blinked, his eyelids feeling like they were weighted with lead. He tried to turn his head to beg whoever was tapping on his head to stop, as it was sounding like a drum in his head, but the world tilted violently on its axis. A wave of nausea rolled through his gut, forcing a groan from his dry throat."Where..." His voice was a rusty scrape against the silence.He pushed his palms against the mattress. The sheets were silky sateen, old, slippery, and undoubtedly expensive. Higher thread count than his rent. He tried to sit up, summoning the will to orient

The Incheon Docks smelled of the ocean, and for people who were familiar with it, knew that it smelled of something else, smelled of things that had died in it.The air was thick with a mixture of diesel fumes, rusting iron, rotting seaweed, and the distinct, metallic tang of industrial grease. It was a stark, violent contrast to the sterilized, The armored Cadillac Escalade idled on the wet pavement, its engine a low, predatory purr that vibrated through the chassis. Outside, the sky had bruised into a deep, angry charcoal. The rain had started twenty minutes ago, a miserable, freezing drizzle that slicked the asphalt and turned the dust of the shipping yard into black sludge. Inside the car, the silence was absolute.Han Min-jae sat in the back seat, staring out at the labyrinth of stacked shipping containers. They towered like steel canyons, red and blue and rust-orange, creating a maze where secrets were easily buried and even more easily exported. He wondered why it always had t

The Library Study was a vacuum of sound, save for the rhythmic drumming of rain against the reinforced glass and the soft, shallow breathing of the child on Han Min-jae’s lap.Having his sister, the admirable Optometrist, Ji-yoon, here helped. It was a tether to humanity he hadn't realized he was desperate for until recently. And Hana, were a warm, living weight against his chest, her small hands clutching the lapels of his charcoal suit as if he were a life raft. The calming effect was undeniable. It smoothed the jagged edges of his nerves, if only slightly.He knew his reputation. He saw it reflected in the terrified glances of the staff, the guarded posture of his board members, and the pure hatred radiating from his step-brothers across the room. He was the "Prince of Darkness," the cold-hearted machine built by a cruel father.But as much as he hated the Chairman, and god, did he hate him with a virulence that tasted like bile, the man was still his father. The idea that the old m

"After six months..."Mr. Song’s voice was the only steady thing in the room.The library was a wreck. A chair was overturned, the crystal ashtray lay in shards on the Persian rug, and the air still smelled faintly of blood from Seok-jin’s split lip. He was slumped in a chair, a handkerchief pressed to his swelling jaw, eyes glazed with pain and humiliation.Everyone was tense, coiled like springs. Jun’s mother, Mi-ran, had retreated to her room, her composure finally shattering after seeing her son collapse. Dr. Rhee had done his rounds, delivering clinical assurances that both patients—the poisoned and the pulverized—would live, before retreating to the sterile corridors of his hospital. The nurse had been dispatched to the third floor, to stay and cater to Jun-woo..The children had been ushered to the dining area with oblivious joy to eat and play, while Ji-yoon was standing by the door, her coat on, clutching her car keys, desperate to flee this house of horrors."Please, Mrs. Kim

The house was silent, save for the low hum of the centralized air filtration system. It was 7:00 AM, but the heavy blackout curtains in the guest room had done their job too well, keeping the space in an artificial twilight.Han Jun-woo lay on the king-sized bed, staring at the ceiling. He had spent the last six hours tossing and turning, his body exhausted but his mind racing like a hamster on a wheel. He had fallen into fitful dozes, only to be jerked awake by dreams of someone chasing him with an image of Mona-lisa. By 5:00 AM, he had given up on sleep entirely and lay there, seriously contemplating if he could d******d an e-book titled How to Break Out of a High-Security Penthouse for Dummies.Now, driven by a thirst that felt like he had swallowed sand, Jun decided to brave the lion’s den.He swung his legs out of bed. His eyes were bloodshot, stinging with fatigue. He crept to the door, opened it with agonizing slowness, and peered into the hallway.Empty.He began his tiptoeing