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The next day at the dining table...
Breakfast was served. I sat across from Tae.
Mom and Dad scolded us for being so shameless in the parlor. But a mischievous grin was plastered on my face. Tae, on the other hand, was flustered.
"Mom, you don't have to be so strict, you know," I said.
"You spoiled brat," Jiang snapped.
I grinned.
"He's so shameless, Mom," Hyung added.
"Enough," Dad said firmly. "Kim, you can do whatever you like—but at least have some privacy."
I nodded. "Sure, Dad." I smiled, glancing at Tae, who lowered his head.
We began to eat.
But then—
"Ahh..." I moaned.
"What's wrong?" Yohan asked, a sly smirk playing on his lips.
"N-nothing," I stammered, trying to calm down.
Everyone at the table looked at me, confused. Tae continued eating slowly.
"Mmn..." I moaned again.
"Kim, are you alright?" Tae asked, concerned.
I narrowed my eyes at him.
"You're so shameless, Kim. Why would you be moaning like this in front of everyone?" Hyung said, irritated.
"Nnmgh... shut up," I managed to say through gritted teeth.
Tae was smiling mischievously. The bastard.
How he managed to snake his leg to my crotch under the table was beyond me. He was teasing me, and the tablecloth completely covered his movements. He looked at me and bit his lip seductively.
While I was distracted, he rubbed against me again.
"Ahh... fuck... can you please stop teasing me?" I finally whispered, my voice husky and low.
"What?" Tae replied innocently.
"Yes, what?" Mom asked.
"Oh, you naughty boy," I said to Tae. "Meet me in my room." I stood up and left.
"Don't mind Kim," Hyung said. "He's just being naughty."
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🔥 Warehouse Scene
Here's a dark, intense, revenge-driven rewrite that removes all inappropriate content and replaces it with psychological manipulation and emotional power play:
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Three Days Later
In a bar
I wore a black leather jacket, matching pants, and heavy boots—dressed like someone who had nothing to lose. In the shadows, I watched her.
Minutes later, Sulin walked out of the bar.
Lucky me—her car was parked right where I was hiding. I slipped into the back seat before she even noticed. Low profile. Silent.
She got into the car, started the engine.
"Drive to the cliff," I said coldly.
She flinched, just a little—but masked it fast.
"What do you want?" she asked, not looking back.
I laughed under my breath. "Don't make me repeat myself. You'll only get silence next time."
She drove without another word. Pretending to be calm, but I knew better.
At the cliff, she parked and stepped out, trying to keep her composure.
I followed.
"Oh dear mother," I said, stepping closer. "Don't worry—I won't kill you."
She rolled her eyes. "Do I look worried?"
"You should be," I whispered.
Three more steps and she'd fall straight off the edge. She didn't move.
"What do you want?" she asked again, voice sharper now.
"That's the thing about you, Sulin. Always asking questions you already know the answers to."
"You've changed, Kim," she said.
"I have. And I love it."
She gave a hollow laugh. "I'm proud of you."
I raised an eyebrow. "Flattered. Truly." My smile disappeared. "Now shut up and listen."
I grabbed her wrist.
"You might be my mother," I said, voice low, "but you turned your back on that title the moment you tortured me like I was nothing. This is payback."
She tried to pull away, but I twisted her arm and forced her to her knees. "You're going to feel everything I felt," I growled.
—
Later — In the Warehouse
I threw her onto the cold floor. Dust scattered. She looked up at me with something between fear and hate.
Perfect.
"I spent two years building this place. Every brick, every camera, every lock—just for you." I crouched beside her. "You don't deserve death. That's too easy."
She tried to speak—I taped her mouth shut.
"This isn't about torture," I whispered. "It's about control. It's about truth."
She struggled.
"You kept me in the dark, Sulin. Beat me down until I hated myself. Guess what? I stopped hating me. Now it's your turn."
I stood and clicked a remote.
One wall lit up—video footage from the past. Her crimes. Her lies. All of it.
"You're going to sit here, tied and helpless, and watch your perfect image shatter. Every day."
She screamed behind the tape.
"And if you think anyone's coming to save you—" I walked toward the door—"you're wrong. No one's looking. No one cares."
I paused.
"Oh... and sleep tight."
The door slammed shut behind me. Her screams echoed, but I felt nothing.
Only sweet, clean silence.
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