"That man—her husband—he's not what he seems. He doesn’t have a stable job, and he’s been constantly asking Ji Eun for money. I don’t think he’s a good person."
Leo’s brows furrowed, a rare sign of genuine confusion from him. "But why? Ji Eun... she’s smart and kind. Why would she end up with someone like that?" 
A bitter smile touched Mina’s lips, her eyes glistening with something between sorrow and resignation. She turned to face Leo, her gaze steady yet filled with a pain he couldn’t quite decipher. “Leo, if you hadn’t come into my life when you did... I would’ve ended up no differently than Ji Eun.”
Leo gave a short, incredulous laugh, as if the very idea was absurd. “You? No way,” he scoffed. 
But Mina shook her head slowly, her eyes never leaving his. "Leo... in my world, in Ji Eun’s world, we don’t even have the luxury of meeting good men," she said, her voice breaking slightly as she spoke.
 “We’re too busy just trying to survive, getting through each day. We’re always so exhausted at the end of the day, wondering if tomorrow will be better, or if we'll even make it through. Sometimes... all we want is someone to hold us at night, to make us feel like maybe everything will be okay.”
Leo’s face hardened, but he didn’t interrupt. He simply listened, a rarity for him. Mina continued, her words flowing like she had held them back for far too long.
 “Men like him… they prey on that desperation. They see women like Ji Eun, who are scared and tired and lonely, and they exploit it. I was just... luckier. I had you.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “You helped me pay off my debts. You gave me a place to stay. You’ve taken care of me. And for that... I am truly grateful, Leo.”
Leo was silent, his dark eyes locked onto hers. It was hard to tell what he was thinking; his expression remained an impenetrable mask, but Mina could see something flicker behind his gaze. 
Gathering her courage, Mina pressed on, her hands nervously clenching the small clutch bag she was holding. “If there ever comes a time when you no longer need me, Leo... I hope you’ll remember how thankful I am for everything you’ve done,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. 
For a moment, there was no response, just the weight of Mina’s words hanging in the air like a fragile thread. 
Then, without warning, Leo stepped forward, closing the distance between them. His hands were surprisingly gentle as he cupped her face, his thumb brushing away a tear that had slipped down her cheek. 
“Mina...” he murmured, his voice low and husky. Before she could process what was happening, his lips were on hers. 
The kiss was soft but insistent, filled with a tenderness that was so at odds with his usual cold demeanor that it left her breathless. Mina's eyes widened, her tears flowing freely now, not out of sadness but confusion and something deeper that she couldn't name.
When he finally pulled away, Leo’s expression was unreadable, though there was a slight smirk playing on his lips.
 “You look beautiful when you cry,” he teased, his voice a mere whisper against her ear. “Should I make you cry more often?”
Mina let out a shaky laugh, half in relief, half in frustration, and swatted at his chest playfully. “You’re impossible, Leo,” she muttered, her cheeks still flushed from the kiss.
Leo caught her hand before she could pull away, intertwining his fingers with hers. The touch was warm, grounding, and it sent a flutter through her heart. 
“Let’s go,” he said simply, his tone softer than before. 
They walked away from the bustling party, Leo’s grip on her hand firm as if he had no intention of ever letting go. 
*
Leo stood in the cold, dim armory of Black Salvator’s headquarters, the steady clatter of machinery echoing off the concrete walls. The air was thick with the tang of gun oil and freshly forged metal. 
A long table was crowded with weapons—custom-built rifles, pistols fitted with experimental modifications, and sleek explosives packed into cases. Each item had been meticulously crafted for one purpose: to impress the most dangerous man in California.
In just a few days, Leo and his crew would be heading to California to attend a secretive summit, where the world's most notorious crime families would gather. 
It was more than a mere meeting; it was a cutthroat competition to showcase the best new weapons in the underworld. And at the center of it all was Mr. Drew, a man whose influence reached across continents. 
The one who impressed him the most would secure a lucrative contract—an opportunity that could transform fortunes overnight. But failure would mean more than just a missed deal; it would be a sign of weakness, a fatal flaw in their empire’s armor.
Leo’s sharp eyes scrutinized a modified assault rifle in his hands. 
It was light, well-balanced, and equipped with a custom suppressor designed for silent takedowns. Next to him stood Marco, his second-in-command, observing silently but with a touch of anxiety. 
“Is this the best we’ve got?” Leo asked, his voice calm yet filled with an undercurrent of tension. He continued to dismantle the rifle, inspecting each component with the precision of someone who had seen too many weapons fail in critical moments.
“Yes, Boss,” Marco replied, standing stiffly. “It’s our newest prototype. Enhanced recoil control, a biometric trigger lock—only programmed users can fire it.”
Leo nodded slowly, weighing the rifle in his hands. “Good. But don’t get comfortable. Test it again. Twice. I won’t take any chances in front of Drew.”
Marco’s expression tightened. He knew Leo’s reputation for thoroughness wasn’t just about being prepared; it was about survival. 
In their world, trust wasn’t earned with words but with consistent results—and one slip-up could bring everything crashing down.
Satisfied for now, Leo turned his focus to a small case lined with compact explosives. He picked up a device that looked deceptively like a keychain.