The bedroom in the Russian safe house was opulent but felt like a gilded cage. Seo-jun sat on the edge of the large bed, his phone a heavy, cold weight in his hand. He stared at the blank screen, his thumb hovering over the keypad.
Should I call him? he thought, his mind a whirlwind of anxiety and longing. I still have Min-jae's number. I could just… call. He would come, wouldn't he?
He stood and paced over to the full-length mirror, his reflection showing a man pale with worry. He placed a tentative hand on his still-flat stomach, the reality of his situation a secret tremor beneath his skin.
A soft, precise knock at the door broke his reverie. "Enter," Seo-jun said, his voice barely above a whisper.
The door opened to reveal the stern, ever-proper butler, Ivan. Beside him stood an elderly man with a kind face and a medical bag. "Young Master," Ivan intoned. "The doctor is here for your examination."
