“That’s not true. Jeremy made it up on his own. He probably said I gave it to him to get out of the theft charge. Why would I give the bracelet Alex gave me to Jeremy… there’s no reason for that.”
There was no reason to trust Jeremy’s words over his. He couldn’t just sit back and silently resent Alexander. If he wanted Alexander to believe him, he had to explain. Yeon Yiseo continued, clinging to that belief.
“Yesterday, he said he needed money to move his parents’ graves… That’s why I let him into the house. But while I stepped away for a moment, he took it. And as soon as I realized he’d stolen it, I reported it to the police. If I’d given it to him, why would I have filed a report?”
“You reported it several hours after he left.”
Yeon Yiseo’s words caught in his throat. He felt helpless. Like he was talking to a wall. No matter how he explained it, it wasn’t getting through to Alexander. Just as a sense of powerlessness began to rise in him—
“If the bracelet truly wasn’t a gift from you, then I can’t forgive someone who lied to me. And if that man’s been extorting money from you like that all this time, I’ll have him charged for every offense, without bail. He’ll be sent to GRVC, one of the worst-rated facilities in Rikers. After that, he could be transferred to Attica. It’s a serious felony—he could be looking at a sentence of twenty-five years or more. It’s a solution to the problem that’s been tormenting you, so wouldn’t that be something to welcome?”
Yeon Yiseo flinched at a single word from Alexander’s mouth. Rikers. He clearly meant Rikers Island Prison. And the way he spoke—so confidently—made it obvious that Alexander had the power to influence the judge overseeing Jeremy’s case.
If he stayed silent now, Jeremy would be denied bail, locked up in Rikers until sentencing, and then shipped off to Attica. The problem that had tormented him for so long could be neatly solved this way. Jeremy would never be able to hurt him again.
But… Attica. One of the most violent prisons in the country. He wasn’t trying to defend what Jeremy had done. Not at all. But the punishment felt excessive. He doubted Jeremy would even survive in there. One wrong move and he could be killed by another inmate or guard—or caught in a riot and end up dead. Yiseo couldn’t pretend not to know that. No matter what others thought, what Jeremy had done wasn’t something worth condemning a man to death over. It was enough for him to pay a penalty that fit the crime.
“Seems like you’re not so eager after all.”
Alexander’s voice snapped Yeon Yiseo out of his thoughts.
“Ah… no. I just… it’s theft, isn’t it?”
“That’s right. Theft. He stole a bracelet worth two hundred thousand dollars.”
At the number—two hundred thousand dollars—Yeon Yiseo reflexively squeezed his eyes shut. He’d guessed it was expensive, but not that expensive. That price tag went far beyond anything he’d imagined. Even if he saved his full salary for two straight years without spending a cent, it wouldn’t be enough.
You can’t put a price on someone’s feelings. But no one spends that kind of money unless they mean it. That Alexander had been willing to pay such a sum for him… the weight of his feelings was overwhelming. Yeon Yiseo had no idea what to do with it. It made him unbearably anxious. He had to explain how he felt somehow.
“Of course, taking the bracelet was—”
“Yeon Yiseo.”
Alexander interrupted him, cutting him off just by calling his name. Yiseo paused.
“Do you realize what you just said? You said he ‘took’ it. Not ‘stole’ it.”
“….”
He hadn’t even realized. The pointed observation made him catch his breath. Had he really said that? He didn’t know. It hadn’t been intentional. But he couldn’t deny that he might’ve unconsciously worded it that way. Still, it wasn’t because he took what Jeremy did lightly.
“So you’re okay with whatever that man does to you.”
Yiseo was about to open his mouth, but Alexander beat him to it. The words hit him like a blow to the head. Alexander’s voice had turned cold—noticeably more so than when Yeon Yiseo had greeted him at the condo.
“That’s not true. Not at all.”
“But the only thing you’ve reported is the theft of the bracelet, right?”
It was an accusation—why had he kept quiet about everything else? Yiseo knew others might feel that way. And yes, he’d been soft when it came to Jeremy. He wasn’t denying it. But not everything in the world could be explained with logic. At least, not from his side of things.
Still, he’d thought that Alexander—at least Alexander—would understand if he explained. But fairy tale endings didn’t happen in real life.
Yeon Yiseo realized now: his feelings hadn’t reached Alexander.
He’d finally made up his mind to break free from Jeremy and live a different life. But he couldn’t. The years he’d endured pressed down on him like a weight.
“Anyone can talk. What matters is their attitude and actions. You know that better than anyone, don’t you?”
So no matter what you say, I won’t believe you.
Alexander hadn’t said it outright, but it echoed in his ears all the same. At the same time, Yeon Yiseo realized something else: when he’d arrived at the condo, Alexander hadn’t touched him. Not once.
Now he understood the strange sense of distance. He’d felt like Alexander had already decided on a conclusion before asking anything—and that was exactly what had happened. Alexander had made up his mind before even hearing his answer.
Yeon Yiseo had exposed his ugliest, most painful parts—things he’d never wanted Alexander to see—and it had all been dismissed as lies. If someone isn’t ready to listen, it doesn’t matter what you say. If they never intended to hear you out, anything you say will sound like an excuse or a lie.
Alexander’s questions had been nothing more than formality. And when he reached his conclusion, Yiseo’s head went cold. His heart sank. What he’d wished for had never come true. He’d known he couldn’t have everything just because he wanted it—but losing something that had been within reach was far more painful.
“So no matter what I say, you were never planning to believe me.”
Saying the words felt like stabbing himself with a needle.
“I thought… I could at least expect an honest answer.”
The cold sarcasm in Alexander’s voice made the despair even worse. But Yeon Yiseo couldn’t give up on him—not yet. He bit his lower lip, desperate, not knowing what else to do.
“Do you want me to believe you?”
At that, Yiseo’s head shot up. Of course he wanted that. If Alexander would believe him, he felt like he could do anything. Whatever he had to prove, he would. Whatever Alexander asked—he could do it all. Alexander stared at him for a long moment, then slowly spoke.
“Then get on your knees and beg.”
“…What?”
Yeon Yiseo thought he’d misheard. Alexander said it as casually as if he’d just asked if he’d eaten lunch.
“If it matters that much—if you’re that desperate—then I might be willing to believe you.”
The next words confirmed that he hadn’t misheard. Yeon Yiseo felt the blood drain from his face. Alexander’s expression hadn’t changed at all. Yiseo suddenly wondered—was this really the Alexander he knew? Get on your knees. In every culture he knew—Korean or Western—asking someone to kneel was an act of humiliation.
And yet Alexander had said it to him without a second thought.
Just moments ago, he’d felt like he could do anything. Now, a wave of resistance surged up. He almost laughed at himself—at how shallow he was. But still, he’d never imagined Alexander would demand something like that. If he did it… could they go back to how things were? Was that even possible?
“…Would it even mean anything?”
Oh like okay……