We’re not married yet, but it feels like practice. As if we’re settling into the shape of the life we’re building together.
I find I don’t mind it at all.
The drama cuts to a commercial break, and Monroe sighs, releasing her death grip on my arm.
“I can’t believe you think she should just come clean about the pregnancy,” she mutters. “You have no sense of drama.”
“I have plenty of sense. That’s the problem.”
“You could never be a character on one of these dramas, Jin.”
“Do you mean to compliment me, Tokki-ya?” I tease back, a smirk tugging at my lips. “Though I suppose you’d know something about keeping pregnancies a secret.”
Monroe’s jaw drops. “Excuse me? I told you right away! Like, within a few hours!”
“Afterhiding in the bathroom for twenty minutes.”
“I was processing!”
“Are you a computer? What is there to process?” I retort to her offended gasp. Then I lean in and press a kiss to her temple, then her cheek, then finally the corner of her mouth. “I could tell you were hiding something anyway. You’re a terrible liar, Tokki-ya. Just like So-yi.”
She huffs again but doesn’t pull away. “Maybe the writers based the character on me. Except, you know, she’s Korean and I’m obviously… not.”
A rare laugh slips out of me. Monroe grins, clearly pleased with herself.
“Bathroom break,” she announces, pushing herself upfrom the couch. “I drank way too much tea. Don’t let them come back from commercial without me.”
“I make no promises.”
She swats my shoulder as she passes, and I watch her disappear down the hallway until my phone buzzes from the coffee table.
I pick it up and glance at the screen to find a message from Nam Joo-wan.
Several of the lieutenants want to attend the underground boxing match in Yeongdo-gu tomorrow night. Some of the hubaes will be joining. Plan is to speak with the commissioner about striking a deal for the betting market. Your approval?
I stare at the message longer than usual, weighing my options.
This is the kind of thing Jae-hyun used to handle personally. He loved events like this—the gambling, the drinking, the chance to rub shoulders with the shadier elements of Busan’s underworld.
It was one of the few areas where he actually showed his face rather than delegating.
As Baekho-je, I should probably do the same. Establish my presence. Remind people that the Baekho Pa has new leadership and that leadership is engaged and visible.
But it means another evening away from Monroe. Another dinner missed.
I hesitate for a moment longer, then type my response.
I’ll be in attendance as well.
The reply comes almost immediately.
Understood, Jin-tae.
I set the phone down as Monroe returns, settling back into her spot against my side. The commercial break ends, and Park So-yi is still cowering behind the plant, her face a mask of panic.
“Did I miss anything?” Monroe asks.
“No. The clumsy mother-to-be is still hiding.”
