Safe in Junseong's Arms.

The moon cast an eerie glow over the villa, illuminating the chasm between Junseong and Seongho. Two weeks of silence had passed since Junseong discovered Seongho's alleged betrayal.

Seongho, exhausted from Junseong's cold shoulder, sought advice from Tahiti over dinner.

"Tahiti, I don't know what to do. Junseong won't talk to me, won't even look at me," Seongho confided, desperation creeping into his voice.

Tahiti's expression softened. "Confront him, Seongho. Make him listen."

Seongho took a deep breath, steeling himself for the impending confrontation.

Back at the villa, Seongho found Junseong in the study, staring out the window into the darkness.

"Junseong, we need to talk," Seongho said, his voice firm but trembling.

Junseong turned, his eyes icy. "What's there to discuss, Seongho? You've made your choice."

Seongho's eyes pleaded for understanding. "I didn't betray you, Junseong. I swear. Whatever you think I did, it's not true."

Junseong sneered. "Don't lie to me. I have proof. You're working with my rival, using our relationship to further your own interests."

Seongho's face paled. "That's not true! Who told you this? Whoever it is, they're lying!"

Junseong's smile twisted. "You're just a gold digger, using me for my wealth and influence. Admit it."

Seongho's voice rose. "How can you say that? You know me! You know how much I love you!"

Junseong's laughter cut deep. "Love? You call this love? You're just like all the others, using me for your gain."

Seongho's eyes welled up, but he tried to defend himself. "That's not fair! I've given up everything for you!"

Junseong's venomous words spilled forth. "You've given up nothing but your dignity. You're a puppet on strings, dancing for my rival's amusement."

Seongho's voice cracked. "You should have listened to me, trusted me. Now you'll never know the truth."

Junseong's expression turned glacial. "You should have opened up to me in the first place. Instead, you chose deception."

The words sliced through Seongho like a knife. He felt his heart shatter, his world crumbling.

A heart-wrenching sob escaped Seongho's lips as he turned and ran from the room, out of the villa, and onto the moonlit beach.

The cool sand felt cold beneath his feet as he stumbled, tears streaming down his face.

Junseong watched from the window, his expression unyielding, but his heart heavy with doubt.

Had he misjudged Seongho?

The sound of Seongho's sobs carried on the wind, haunting Junseong like a ghost.

Seongho collapsed onto the sand, his body shaking with anguish.

"Why?" he whispered to the night. "Why didn't he trust me?"

The questions swirled in Seongho's mind like a maelstrom, consuming him.

As the stars twinkled above, Seongho's tears slowly ceased, replaced by a numbness that chilled him to the bone.

He rose, his eyes empty, and walked into the darkness, leaving Junseong and their shattered relationship behind.

Hours passed, and Seongho wandered, lost in his thoughts. The darkness seemed to swallow him whole. Suddenly, the sky opened up, and torrential rain poured down.

Seongho's tears mingled with the rain as he stumbled through the downpour. The cold water seeped into his bones, but he didn't care.

Meanwhile, back at the villa, Junseong grew anxious. He hadn't seen Seongho since their argument, and the storm raging outside only heightened his concern.

"Tahiti!" Junseong shouted, bursting into Tahiti's room. "Seongho's gone! Help me find him!,I chased him away with my words. . . . I. . I called him a gold digger."

The storm raged outside, mirroring the tempest brewing within Junseong. Hours had passed since Seongho had vanished, and the villa felt heavy with an oppressive silence. Junseong paced, his worry gnawing at him. He had been so quick to judge, so quick to believe the worst, and now the consequences of his actions were unfolding before him. He had driven Seongho away, and the thought of losing him forever was a terrifying prospect.

Tahiti, ever the pillar of strength, tried to soothe Junseong's frayed nerves. "We'll find him, Junseong. We just need to keep searching." But her words offered little comfort. Junseong knew that every passing moment was precious, and the weight of his guilt pressed down on him like a physical burden. He had been a fool, blinded by jealousy and suspicion. He had let his insecurities cloud his judgment, and now he was paying the price.

The detectives he informed,working tirelessly, scoured the city, but their efforts were met with dead ends. The media, sensing a juicy story, descended upon the villa, their cameras flashing, their questions relentless. Junseong ignored them, his focus solely on finding Seongho. He couldn't shake the feeling that Seongho was close, that he was somewhere out there, lost and vulnerable. He had to find him, he had to make things right.

He decided to search the closed area of the ocean despite the torrential rain and despite his assistant's pleas. As he walked along the shore, dejected but still with a hint of hope, he spotted a figure huddled on the sand, barely conscious. Relief washed over him as he rushed towards Seongho, scooping up his limp body.

"Seongho! Wake up!" Junseong shouted, cradling him in his arms.

Seongho's eyelids fluttered open, his gaze unfocused.

"Hub…by?" he whispered.

"I've got you," Junseong replied, swiftly wrapping Seongho in his jacket. A small, drenched cat cowered beside Seongho. "Let's get you both inside," Junseong said, scooping up the cat.

Tahiti approached, concern etched on her face. "Thank God, he is safe and sound, and Mr. Lee, I've called the doctors."

"Get all of them here, now," Junseong ordered.

As they rushed towards the villa, the media swarmed the entrance. "Mr. Lee, what's Seongho's condition?" a reporter shouted. Junseong ignored them, pushing through the crowd. Tahiti followed, the cat secure in her arms. "Make way!" Junseong barked.

Inside, Junseong laid Seongho on the bed. "Seongho, stay with me," Junseong urged. Seongho's eyes closed again. Doctors arrived, surrounding Seongho. "Check everything," Junseong instructed. Dr. Jung examined Seongho. "Hypothermia and exhaustion," Dr. Jung diagnosed. Junseong's face twisted with worry. "Treat him," Junseong ordered.

Tahiti entered with the cat. "What about this little one?" Tahiti asked. "Keep it, Seongho might ask for it when he wakes up," Junseong replied.

As doctors tended to Seongho, Junseong paced. What if something had happened to Seongho? What would he have done? He shrugged it off as mere obligation and that could explain why he was concerned and worried. The cat, now dry, curled up beside Seongho. Junseong's eyes never left Seongho's face.

Media continued to swarm outside, not minding that it was raining heavily. "Mr. Lee, what's happening?" another reporter shouted. Junseong remained silent. Only Seongho's health mattered.

Two minutes later, Dr. Jung approached Junseong, a serious expression on his face. "Mr. Lee, Seongho's condition is stable, but we need to monitor him closely," another doctor said. Junseong nodded, his eyes locked on Seongho. "I want the best care possible," Junseong ordered. Dr. Jung nodded. "We'll do everything necessary."

Tahiti entered with a warm towel. "Sir, you should change into dry clothes," Tahiti suggested. Junseong shook his head. "I'll stay here," Junseong replied.

The cat, Mangchi, now sleeping beside Seongho, stirred. Junseong gently stroked the cat's fur. Seongho's hand twitched, and Junseong's heart skipped a beat. Seongho's eyes fluttered open. "Hubby, I named the cat Mangchi?" Seongho whispered, smiling. Junseong's eyes met Seongho's, his expression soft. Seongho's gaze drifted to Mangchi. Mangchi meowed softly. Seongho's eyes closed again. Junseong held Seongho's hand. "I'm here," Junseong whispered. Mangchi snuggled closer. Junseong's eyes never left Seongho's face.

As the night wore on, Junseong remained vigilant. Seongho's chest rose and fell. Junseong's heart swelled. Media continued to swarm outside. Junseong ignored them. The storm raged on. But in this room, there was calm. Seongho's safety was all that mattered. Junseong's eyes drifted to Mangchi. Mangchi purred contentedly. Junseong smiled. A small, fleeting smile. Seongho's eyelids fluttered. Junseong leaned in. "I'm here," Junseong whispered. Junseong's grip on Seongho's hand tightened. He wouldn't let go.

After Seongho fell asleep, Junseong made sure that Seongho was comfortable, adjusting the blankets and ensuring that the room was warm enough. He then sat beside the bed, his eyes fixed on Seongho's peaceful face. The storm outside had subsided, replaced by a gentle drizzle. The villa, once filled with tension, was now enveloped in a quiet calm.

Junseong's heart ached with regret, but also with a newfound determination. He had been wrong, terribly wrong. He had let his fears and insecurities control him, and he had almost lost the one person he truly cared about. He wouldn't make that mistake again. He would cherish Seongho, protect him, and never let his doubts cloud his love for him.

He looked at Seongho, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the bedside lamp. He had a lot of explaining to do, a lot of apologies to make. But for now, he was content to simply watch over him, to feel the warmth of his presence, and to be grateful that he was safe. He had learned a valuable lesson, a lesson that he would never forget. Love, true love, was built on trust and understanding, and he was determined to rebuild the foundation of their relationship, brick by brick.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against Seongho's hands. "I'm here," he whispered, his voice filled with a new profound sense of determination . He would never let Seongho go through the same thing again.