He'd arrived early and ordered both of them a drink. He'd seen her drink whiskey before and he figured she would need something strong. He'd found a booth in the corner and had slipped into it, sitting down and unbuttoning his suit jacket. Sitting back, he observed the room around him. The bar was busier than usual, but he didn't see anyone he recognised. He wondered if anyone in the room could be any of the VIPs he'd entertained in the past? He found it oddly thrilling to know that they could be stood there, their backs turned to him with no idea who he was. A handful of people knew who he was, but those had been the highest investors who he'd had to work with the most, not all the others. The mask gave him some power. He knew it was important that no one really saw his face or found out who he truly was. There had been only one man who had ever known his true identity and he was now gone.

When Oh Il-nam had died, a part of him had felt sadness. He knew that their relationship had been complicated. He knew that there were times, particularly at the start of his tenure, when he'd suffered with bouts of regret. He would lay awake at night, wondering what he was doing working for them. He wondered what his life could have been like. He could have walked away. He could have gone back home, back to his brother. But what else did he have? His career had been destroyed all because of desperation. And no one had listened to him. His peers had turned their backs on him. His friends shunned him. Even his wife had been in disbelief.

But he had done it for her. He had done it to try and save her because he would've done anything for her. Could she not see that? It hadn't been a bribe that he'd taken. He saw it more as a loan, but his boss disagreed. He didn't even care when he'd broken down in his office and explained why he'd done it. He'd just dismissed him and taken his badge from him.

He wondered if that was why he'd felt a particular affinity for Elizabeth Jacobs. He knew how it felt to be alone and abandoned at a time of desperation. He knew exactly what desperation felt like and he wondered just how far she might push herself if she had to. He'd pushed himself to the limit and now he felt as though there was hardly any of the old him left. He'd seen what people did to each other. He'd seen how they treated each other. He'd lost hope, he suspected. He'd lost hope in the kindness of humanity.

And then he remembered the first time he'd met her. It had been nothing but a business transaction really. She was professional, shaking his hand firmly and offering him a drink as he sat in her office with her. He'd passed on the necessary paperwork that Oh Il-nam had left behind and she had gone through it diligently, telling him to leave it with her. But even then, despite the air of authority she held, he knew there was something else behind it.

Several months ago

He'd come in for another meeting. Elizabeth's PA had called him and asked him to drop by the office and sign the paperwork. The law firm was one of the most respected internationally and, because of the nature of Oh Il-nam's business, he had overseas accounts in numerous countries. He'd left his will in the charge of an American firm, claiming that it might be safer in case the authorities started digging into him at any point. They hadn't, of course. He'd been a shrewd businessman with a cunning knack on how to get away with things. That was how the games had gone on for so long. Plus, the VIP guests were also billionaires and, as he had come to realise, it wasn't politicians who made the world go round, but wealthy businessmen with politicians in their pockets.

It was a life he couldn't understand nor did he have any interest in. He'd come from a job of public duty and service. That had been instilled in him from a young age and it was all that he truly knew. He had no interest in the business side of the games, not truly. But now he supposed that he had to try. He was in charge and therefore it was his responsibility.

Walking into the office, he spoke to reception who told him to take a seat. He did so, settling down in the plush leather chair, hands laced in his lap and he waited for Elizabeth. She came out a few moments later, patent black heels clicking against the tiled floor and hair pulled back into a wispy bun at the back of her neck. She had a fitted red dress on that came down to mid-thigh and her green eyes were scanning the area, looking for him. She greeted him as usual with a handshake and asked him to follow her to the board room where she was working.

The office took up the top floors of the high-rise building. He suspected that it was a sign of wealth. The higher the office, the higher the reputation. They were lined with glass offices and boardrooms, people working hard, dressed in designer suits and dresses as they dealt with numerous legal matters. Fresh flowers sat in most meeting rooms alongside fridges with bottled water and snacks for clients. He knew that a firm like this had to look expensive to retain expensive clientele.

"Thank you so much for coming in," Elizabeth said, holding the door open for him. He walked by her before she let the door close. The boardroom table was covered in boxes of paperwork. There was a large screen on the wall showing Elizabeth's desktop background of a picture he assumed was of the fjords. No doubt from a holiday her rich diplomat husband had taken her on.

He sat down in a seat and Elizabeth sat next to him, reaching across the table for some of the paperwork. "I've been in touch with the bank in London where some of the money was tied up and they're happy for it to be released to you following official verification, of course. I've sent them copies of the paperwork from our end, but we just need to send over some official documentation…you know…showing that you are who you say you are…I had your ID's scanned and verified, but I just need a signature."

He suspected this was where his fake ID had come in handy. Creating a new alias had been imperative if he wanted to remain anonymous. Thankfully, Oh Il-nam had the contacts to make sure that had happened easily. He picked up the pen she pushed across to him on top of the documents that had a big x next to where he needed to sign.

"Okay," Elizabeth said. "I think that's everything. I'm still liaising with the bank in Paris and Hong Kong. That's proving to be quite tricky as they are involving their own legal teams with it being such a large sum of money. My best guess is they're trying to hang onto it because of the interest it's earning them."

"I assume it's not going to be too difficult?"

"Oh, nothing ever is," Elizabeth smiled at him, almost as if she didn't want to tell him that it was proving to be a pain in her ass. But nothing was too much for a client and, judging by the amount Oh Il-nam had paid the firm, they didn't want to upset the beneficiary of his will.

"And you're working on this alone still?"

"Well, I specialise in pensions and wills…probate…that kind of stuff," Elizabeth said and a part of him thought how mundane that sounded. "And there's a lot of things to settle so thankfully I've had some other cases taken from me to lessen the load."

He had to admit that he had been apprehensive when the firm had told him that some American woman was coming in and handling the will. He had asked why, but he had been assured that she was one of the best they'd had. He'd done his own due diligence of course, looking into her. At first he didn't entirely see how the wife of a diplomat could be one of their best lawyers, but then he had met her and heard her speak with such confidence and knowledge. It was like she'd sensed his hesitation and had completely tied him up with legal jargon until he had no idea what she was saying, but it sounded impressive. He'd learned then that she wasn't a woman to under-estimate.

"Well, I thank you for all your work on this, Mrs Jacobs," he said and she gave him a warm smile.

She showed him out of the office and he was about to walk away and head to the elevators when he remembered that he'd forgotten to ask her the timeframe for when she hoped things would be finished. He headed back towards the boardroom, but she wasn't there. He knew she'd been in her office and he knew the way there. Moving towards it, he didn't get a chance to knock. The door was slightly ajar and thankfully wooden so she couldn't see through it. Everything in the office was glass making privacy almost impossible. He didn't mean to eavesdrop, not really, but he did. She was speaking in English, but he knew just enough to get the gist of what she was saying. He could tell from her tone that she wasn't exactly happy either.

"I told you that I would be working late. I don't know what you expected to happen…I'm not coming home just so…what? You can spend the night drinking yourself into oblivion? Insult me? Why would I do that?" There was a long pause then. "I've had to use the bathroom several times this morning to hide the marks…you…you can't keep doing that. I am all you have and you know it. Without me, you have nothing."

He stepped back and walked away. Pulling his phone out, intrigue got the best of him. He wanted to know more about her and thankfully he had the resources to do so.

She walked into the bar at just gone seven. She was still wearing the fitted green dress she'd been wearing at work. She had a black coat over it that was open. Her satchel was on her shoulder and she'd pulled her hair out of its ponytail, letting it hang loose down her shoulder blades. She looked around and he waited until her gaze was almost in his direction before he held a hand up. She smiled back and headed past the other tables to the booth in the corner by the window, overlooking the bustling street. She dropped her bag onto the end of the leather bench that curved into a circle. Shrugging out of her coat, she left it over her bag and had to slightly hop up because of the height of the bench. He watched her slide around on the seat, leaving a slight distance between the two of them. Sliding the glass that he hadn't touched towards her; he spoke in a low voice.

"Figured you could use that," he said.

"You're not wrong," she admitted to him on that point. He smirked for a moment and watched her pick the glass up, tossing most of the alcohol down her throat.

He knew that there was a slightly awkward atmosphere between the two of them. He could sense the hesitation in her to open up and so he knew he had to tread carefully and not scare her away.

"I understand that things can't be easy for you," he said. "Living in a foreign country away from your friends and family."

She scoffed at that. "Friends and family?" she retorted. "Yeah, I don't have many of those left."

"Lost touch."

"Something like that," she said to him and she swirled the alcohol around in the glass, peering into its depths before she looked him in the eye. He raked a hand through his hair, pushing back some strands that had fallen into his face. "I don't mean to be rude, but you…why did you ask me here?"

"Why did you accept?" he threw the question back to her and she went quiet then. He continued to watch her as she lifted a hand to her hair, tucking it behind her ear. Her engagement and wedding ring hit the light and he wondered why she was still with her husband. "Many years ago, I was a detective," he said to her. He figured he had to earn her trust somehow and it may as well be with a version of the truth. "I loved what I did…it was stressful, but it…I liked to think that I was doing good. I was helping people."

Elizabeth listened to him intently, scrutinising him with an intense stare. He took his turn to look away anxiously. "One day, my wife got sick. We went to the doctors and we found out that it was cancer. She had liver cancer, but on top of that…she was pregnant," he said and Elizabeth felt a knot form in her stomach. She already had an idea of where this was going based on what he had told her before. "She was given two choices. She could either terminate the pregnancy or continue and risk her own health. She refused to end the pregnancy. She was stubborn. She was the most stubborn woman I'd ever met. I tried to find a donor. I tried to get the money together to find a donor, but I couldn't. I couldn't find anyone and so I…I did what I had to…I took money from who I had to."

Eyes wet, Elizabeth watched as he explained it all and she kept her hands in her lap to keep from anxiously twitching around her glass.

"My boss found out and he thought that I'd been accepting bribes from criminals in return for favours. I tried to tell him that it was just a loan. I'd never do that. I'd never accept bribes or become corrupt, but they wouldn't believe me. No one believed me and it had all been in vain anyway. My wife didn't make it and I…I struggled to forgive them…our friends…colleagues…all of them turned their backs on me when they thought the worst of me. You could say that I lost faith in people," he admitted to her and finally looked her in the eye, determined not to cry as he thought about his wife. He couldn't believe it was almost five years since he'd lost her. Not a day went by where he didn't think about what could've been with the two of them.

But life hadn't turned out that way and so he had to make the most of what he had.

"I discovered that I had a long-lost uncle a few years after. My father had never told him of me," he lied on that one. "There had been a feud when I'd been younger that my family never spoke about…but my uncle left me everything. I was his only surviving relative. He found me when he was sick and wanting to make amends with the family. I never found out what caused the estrangement, but he left me everything. The money had just been three years too late."

"I'm sorry," Elizabeth said, but even then, the words felt meaningless. How could two words help ease someone's heartache? "I just…I can't imagine how horrible that must have been."

"No," he agreed with her on that point. "And that was why, when I saw you that night and then today, I saw someone I recognised…someone who, despite being surrounded by millions of people, feels alone. I understand how that feels."

Elizabeth tried to discreetly wipe away the tears from the corner of her eyes, but he'd seen them.

"And you don't need to tell me anything, but I figured it's better to talk to someone who understands than to keep it all inside."

She suspected he maybe had a point and so she knew she was going to back down. She exhaled a sharp breath and nodded once. "I might need another drink before then."

He smiled at her. "That can be arranged," he said and insisted on heading to the bar before she could grab her purse from her bag.

Elizabeth watched the back of him and she wondered if she could trust him. He didn't seem to have any ulterior motives. He seemed genuine enough and she suspected anyone who lied about being a widower would be a certain kind of person with an agenda and he didn't seem like that. In a way, he also seemed like he was lost. He had enough money to do whatever he wanted, yet he stuck around instead of travelling the world and living in luxury. She knew he was still in the same apartment in downtown Seoul considering she'd been updating his paperwork.

He came back with two glasses and set them on the table. She took a sip and let it burn her throat before she began.

"I swore that I would leave him the first time he hit me," she began and he kept silent, letting her speak. "We'd just gotten married in Chicago and I thought that things were perfect. We'd had this lavish wedding and honeymooned in Barbados, but then…we'd gone to a party one night and Robert had seen me talking to some senator from Detroit. We were joking about something trivial. I think it was soccer…and I remember we got home and Robert was in a foul mood. He claimed I'd made him look like a fool, flirting with some middle-aged man and making a spectacle of myself. I said it wasn't like that and I was just joking with him. I told him that he was being paranoid and he needed to grow up. And then he hit me."

Elizabeth went quiet for a minute and he couldn't help but think she sounded numb.

"I think I just stood there in shock for a minute before he started apologising. I just looked at him and I could feel my cheek…it was throbbing…and I was just…I just stood there quietly. I hardly heard what he said, but then when he grabbed my hand I pulled back and told him I was going. I told him I was leaving and I was. I went upstairs and I packed a bag ready to go, but then he…he followed me and just kept saying how sorry he was. He kept crying at me and begging me to forgive him and I…like an idiot, I did," Elizabeth confessed. "I often wonder what I'd be doing now if I'd just left."

"You know it's not your fault, don't you?" he said to her.

"Yeah, but it doesn't make it any easier," Elizabeth said. "Things were fine after that for a while. He would take me out to expensive dinners, buy me flowers…and I thought that it had been a one off…but then I found out about his debts. I'd been working my way up to partner in the law firm I worked at and I was on track for partner. I was only twenty-five. I'd been saving the money I earned…I don't know…my parents were wealthy, but my dad had always instilled a sense of the importance of being frugal and so I was. But then Robert told me about his debts."

She took another sip of her drink.

"He was up to eyes in money borrowed from loan sharks and they weren't nice people. I'd been home one night while he was away on business and they came round…they trashed the place…kept me locked in a room and stole everything worth any value…my jewellery…and I could hear them laughing…and that was how I found out that my husband was in debt," she said. "He came home and cried, told me how embarrassed he was that things had gotten that bad and that he was sorry for what I'd gone through. I wanted to go to the police, but he told me that I couldn't. He said he'd be in much more trouble then. I just…I never thought he'd get access to my account. I never thought he'd empty it…take everything I'd worked for and leave me with nothing."

Her tone had turned slightly bitter and he couldn't blame her.

"The worst thing is, if he'd have told me then I would've helped him," Elizabeth said. "But he went behind my back and that was the last straw. I went back home and I told my parents, but they just told me that it was my own mistake. I'd been foolish to trust him…believe him…and that it was my problem. I didn't expect sympathy, not really. I just expected that maybe they would've backed me up when I went to the police, but they said that it'd cause a scandal. Did I really want to do that? Did I really want to make a fool of myself in the press? Or our family?"

"And so you didn't?"

"No, I did," Elizabeth said with a firm nod. "I went to the police and I told them everything. Ten minutes later my husband comes rushing in. The chief had tipped him off…told him that he could bury it if he wanted to. They spoke like I wasn't there and when I got home…it…" she trailed off and he already had an incline of what she was going to say. "And I felt like I had nowhere to go. I tried to go to the police, but they hadn't listened to me. They'd gone to my husband instead and I was just…I didn't know where to turn. My friends were besotted with Robert. He's charming. He knows how to manipulate people. In the end, he told me that I should quit my job so we could focus on having a child. I didn't want to and I don't think he wanted me to really. He just wanted me away from people…to keep me in the house."

"That's a common method of control," he told her.

"I didn't see it at the time," she told him. "I just…I let him take over my life and I'd never felt so powerless. I'd never felt so alone. I stopped spending time with friends. Robert told them how I was struggling with work and needed space, but that wasn't true. Work was the only thing I loved. It was the only thing that was mine. And then when we moved countries…I lost all contact with friends and family. None of them reached out to me. None of them got in touch, but in all fairness, I never got in touch with them either. I just…I lost all sense of who I was."

"And now?"

"Now, I thought I could leave him," Elizabeth said. "I took a job here because he…he seemed to care less. He has affairs. I work. We stay out of each other's way. We never tried for a family because I hid the morning after pill in my tub of vitamins. I never wanted kids with him and truthfully, I don't think I have a maternal bone in my body. I saved enough money to get away and make a new life…I took the beatings…the bruises…because I kept telling myself it was only a matter of time now before I could get out."

"And then he found out," he concluded for her.

"And then he found out," she echoed in confirmation. "He's so protected. No one ever believed me when I told him what he was like…the police…even people in the hospital didn't see through him when he was the one who put me in there…my friends and family…and I know I shouldn't blame them for what happened to me, but a part of me does. A part of me despises my parents for telling me to accept this. A part of me resents my friends for not seeing what was happening…for not believing me over Robert…thinking that I was crazy or just stressed from work…and then the police, the very people you're told to go to when you're in trouble, they did nothing. They protected him over me. I think it's safe to say I lost my faith in humanity."

The last words she spoke echoed in his mind and he observed her. There was a bitterness inside of her that he'd seen in himself numerous times before. She didn't trust people. Why should she? Everyone in her life had let her down. No one had believed her. No one had helped her. No one had listened to her when she most needed them.

"What happened when he found out?"

"I fell, of course," she said, voice full of resentment. "He emptied the bank account…took everything…so now I'm back to square one…and he…I don't know why he wants me so badly considering he can't stand me. Then again, I imagine he's scared of what I'd say if I left. I know he's gambling again. I know he's getting in with some shady characters again."

She finished her drink and let out a loud 'ah' and he caught the attention of a passing waiter, holding a hand up and indicating that they wanted more drinks. The man just bowed his head and took the empty glasses away with him. Elizabeth watched Young-Il as he remained almost stoic.

"So…now you know," she told him.

"There's ways out," he said to her and she shook her head.

"No," she said with a shake of her head. "I don't know if there's a way out of this now, not with either one of us breathing anyway."

Now his interest was piqued even more. He folded one leg over the other under the table and ran a hand down his tie. "Have you thought about it?" he asked her. Their eyes met and he understood then. There was a darkness to her. The way she looked at him, he could see it. Her face changed slightly. Long gone was the smiling Elizabeth, so eager to people please. This was a hardened woman who was on the edge. One small push and she'd fall over, but he wasn't sure what that would look like.

"Thought about what?" she asked.

Admitting everything that her husband had done to her was one thing, confessing to a stranger that she'd imagined some dark scenarios was another thing. Yet, she wanted to. She wanted to tell him because she could see that there was something inside of him that was also angry with the world for what had happened to him. People had turned their backs on him too. People he had trusted had left him.

"You know what, Elizabeth," he said, forgoing formalities.

She let out a dark chuckle and shook her head. "Killing him?" she checked and he just gave a solemn nod as their drinks were placed in front of them. She knew that she had to be careful with what she said. "No," she said and he tried to weigh up if she was lying to him, but he got a sense she was telling the truth.

They both took a sip of the brandy in front of them.

"Doesn't mean I haven't thought about framing him for my death."

That took him by surprise. His brow rose on his forehead and Elizabeth folded her arms on the table, the black marble cool against her warm skin. He lifted an arm up and draped it over the back of the bench towards her.

"How?" he wondered.

"You know, if I tell you then you definitely can't be my client again, right?"

"I think we've passed those boundaries, don't you?" he retorted.

She guessed he had a point there.

"And why do you want to know?" she asked him. "This is beyond offering me a shoulder to cry on."

"Oh, from where I'm sitting the last thing a woman like you needs is a shoulder to cry on now," he said confidently. And that was true. This was a woman who plotted. It was a woman who might have been broken by her husband, but she was now focused on one thing and one thing only: revenge. He ran a finger along the leather material, knowing that if his hand slipped then it would be on her shoulder, wrapped around her.

"Still, I've probably said too much. You could tell my employer…I could be fired…disbarred…"

"Very true," he agreed with her on that point. "But why would I do that?"

"Because you're working for my husband?"

He almost winced at that. "I've done some questionable things in my life, but trust me, working for a man like that is beneath me," he assured her and she wondered if she was stupid to believe him. He guessed it was only natural for her to have hesitation.

"And how can I trust you? You could be wearing a wire for all I know."

He chuckled and picked his drink up, sitting back and getting comfortable again. "You're more than welcome to check if you so wish."

"Is that an invitation?"

"Yes."

She wasn't sure if the alcohol had gone to her head, but it almost seemed like there was a gleam in his eye. Was there some undertone to his words? Was she obtuse or was he actually almost flirting with her? She wasn't going to push it. Looking at him, she almost felt a blush rise up on her cheeks. No. This was not the time for feeling like a silly schoolgirl. She needed the upper hand here.

And she couldn't risk it. She'd said too much as it was. She downed her drink and he watched her slip down from the bench. She reached for her coat and tugged it onto her body, satchel on her shoulder. "I should go," she said and he quickly grabbed his wallet from his pocket. He threw down some money onto the table, not sure if it was the right amount and he followed her out of the bar.

She was only a few steps in front, but he knew that he could easily lose her on the busy street. He kept close behind her and she knew he was following her. Before she could turn around and tell him to go, however, he'd grabbed her arm and tugged her down an alley, giving her no time to protest or anyone to notice what was really happening. Dragging her slightly down the alley, he knew that he had the force to keep her where he wanted her. He pushed her against the wall, a hand planting itself on the brick beside her head and his other hand on the brick by her waist, keeping her caged in.

"What the hell are you doing?" she demanded from him.

"I know what it's like," he said in a low hiss to her. "You think I don't know what it's like to be betrayed by people who are supposed to care about you? I do. I know all too well. You think I haven't thought about it…getting revenge on those people…because I have."

"And what does that have to do with me?" Elizabeth questioned.

And that was the problem. What was he playing at? He was risking so much by acting like this, but he couldn't shake her. There was something about her that he couldn't shake. He was hardly going to tell her that he'd been keeping tabs on her, watching her from his office on the island. He knew that she wouldn't take that well and even he had to admit that it sounded creepy.

"You want the truth?" he asked and continued talking before she could answer him. "I didn't trust you. From the moment you took my case, I thought you were just some diplomat's wife…working there for a hobby…but I was wrong. I saw I was wrong as I got to know you and saw how competent you were, but then I heard you on the phone one time…heard you talking to your husband."

She frowned. "You were eavesdropping?" she checked with him.

"Purely accidental," he confessed. "But I heard what he was doing. I spent far too much time wondering how to bring it up…to see if you needed help…but I didn't know how you'd react. I didn't know what you would do."

Judging by the look on her face, he doubted she'd have reacted positively. She was looking at him with particular annoyance.

"And then seeing you that night in the bar and tonight…knowing what he'd done to you…you deserve so much better," he said. "And I've seen enough injustice. I've gone through it myself. I see something inside of you that I've seen inside myself…a darkness that you've tried to conceal. You've told yourself it's wrong. You've told yourself to be the bigger person. You've tried to have faith in people around you, but all they've done is let you down. All they've done is show you that they're not worth it. I know it. I know it and I can help. I can help you if you let me."

"But why?" Elizabeth asked. "Why would you want to help me?"

And that was the question. Why? He could tell her what he'd already said, but it didn't get to the crux of things because he truthfully didn't know why. He had yet to figure that out himself. He suspected there were hundreds of people in Elizabeth's position, but it wasn't them who he was talking to. It was her. It was this woman he hadn't been able to shake off.

"That…I'm not sure of," he admitted. "I just know that I do."

Elizabeth kept quiet as she searched his gaze and he saw her eyes soften slightly, almost like she was less suspicious of him. And he understood it. She just wanted someone she could trust. She wanted someone to be there for her and he knew he could be. He just couldn't tell her why he wanted to be until he figured that out for himself.

"I need to get home," Elizabeth said, but he didn't move. If anything, he took a step closer to her until his front was almost pressed against hers.

"And what will happen?"

"Hopefully he'll be out…with his mistress," Elizabeth answered.

"Then come back with me."

He had no idea where that had come from. This was veering towards more than just reckless behaviour. It was downright stupidity. This had the potential to derail everything. But all he knew was that he didn't want her to go home. He could smell her Chanel Number Five perfume. He could feel the heat of her body so close to his. He could make out the small mole on the side of her nose underneath her makeup. He could also see the way her own pupils dilated.

"Are you crazy?" she asked.

"Jury's out," he said quickly back to her, a corner of his lips tugging upwards. "Forget your husband…forget doing the right thing…what's the point? Where has it got you so far?"

Elizabeth wasn't a reckless person. Every decision she made had been calculated and measured. She thought before she acted. She spent her life making intelligent decisions. But as soon as he moved his hand to her cheek, his large palm cupping it and thumb running over her cheekbone, she lost all sense of reason and she made a decision that would change the course of her life.