✓ GREEDY HEARTS | JAY

17 - Wonderful Mess

Y/N'S POV

I hug my knees closer to my chest and hide my face in the pillow, trying to suppress the sobs that threaten to escape. I don't cry. I don't show weakness. That's the rule. Yet, here I am, on the verge of breaking down inside the place of the man I've been trying to outsmart and manipulate. It's infuriating.

Nightmares about Yejin make me jolt awake, gasping for air. The thought of her passing away, slipping through my fingers, haunts my every quiet moment. The thought of her laughter being forever silenced echoes in the corners of my mind and it's suffocating—all of it consumes me in the solitude of this unfamiliar room.

I won't be able to even visit her or make sure Choi Minho doesn't harm her if I stay here. I'm stuck in Jay's mansion, surrounded by his men, and I hate it. But what I hate more is the vulnerability that has found its way into my heart. I'm not used to feeling this way, exposed and raw. I need some water.

Silently and carefully stepping out of the room, I find some of Park's men standing like some fucking statues in the hallway. They avoid making eye contact with me, probably unsure of how to handle the situation, but one of them hesitantly approaches me. "Do you need anything, Ms. Baek?" The name sounds so fake it makes me want to roll my eyes.

"Just water." He's tall and muscled like he's spent years in the gym, but I'll snap him in two if I really want to run away from here. But I'm planning on playing along, at least for now.

The man points down the hall. "The kitchen is that way. I can escort you if you'd like."

I shake my head. "I'm not a child. I can find my way around." Without waiting for his response, I head towards the kitchen. It's a neat and spacious area, probably not used so much judging by the lack of signs of cooking or any remnants of meals. I wouldn't be surprised if Park orders takeout most of the time, given his lifestyle. The silence in the mansion is deafening. The water helps, but it doesn't erase the ache in my chest. So, instead of leaning against the counter and waiting for some miracle to happen, I decide to keep moving through the mansion. There's a restlessness in me, an urgency to familiarize myself with the layout of this place.

Park is nowhere to be found. I walk by what looks like an office and try to step inside but it's locked. I know my way around, I've spent a few minutes exploring the place last time I broke into the mansion. A few seconds later, I'm standing in front of his room while contemplating my next move. I knock on the door, but even after a minute or so, there's no answer. So I don't bother to wait anymore and open the door, stepping inside the room that screams luxury. 

The sound of water running in the bathroom makes me realize that he's probably in the shower. Taking advantage of the moment, I quickly step inside his wardrobe and decide to give him a heart attack. The man has his clothes color-coded and organized by type. This can't be some normal OCD. 

"This looks like something straight out of a fashion magazine," I mutter to myself, my fingers lightly tracing the luxurious fabrics. I playfully pull out some clothes and put there somewhere else just to make him question his sanity when he realizes later. A small victory that makes me smile.

"Just what the fuck are you doing in my wardrobe?" I turn around, my eyes widening slightly when he notices me. I didn't even realize he got in. But what makes me freeze is the sight of the towel hanging around his waist, almost revealing more than it should. Fuck, he has such nice abs. Don't get distracted, Y/N. I quickly avert my gaze, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he caught me off guard. "I believe I asked you a question."

"Didn't know you were such a fashionista." I shrug, trying to put a strand of hair behind my ear but it's too short I can't get a grip on it. Damn it.