Chapter 2 - House Lights
Nathaniel clawed at Min-jae’s wrist, his face reddening.
“I didn’t touch her drink,” he choked.
Min-jae did not release him.
“Then who did?”
“I don’t know.”
Min-jae’s gaze moved to the champagne flute broken on the table near Jasmine’s booth.
Daniel Kang appeared from the shadows with two men behind him.
“Lock the doors,” Min-jae said.
Daniel nodded once.
The Velvet Ember’s main doors shut with a heavy metallic click.
Someone screamed.
Min-jae turned his head. “No one leaves until I know who poisoned a woman in my house.”
The word my moved through the room like a blade.
Jasmine tried to focus on his face, but the lights split around him. Camille’s arm wrapped around her waist.
“She needs a doctor,” Camille said.
For the first time, Min-jae’s control cracked.
He dropped Nathaniel into the hands of two guards and crossed the distance to Jasmine.
“Jasmine Brooks,” he said quietly.
Hearing her full name from him should have scared her.
Instead, through the fog, it steadied her.
“You remember me,” she murmured.
“I remember everything.”
Her knees weakened again.
Min-jae caught her before she hit the floor.
Camille grabbed his sleeve. “Who are you?”
“The man who owes her his life.”
That silenced her.
He carried Jasmine through a hidden door near the bar and into a private hallway. Camille and Simone followed, refusing to be left behind. Min-jae did not stop them.
The medical room upstairs was white, cold, and too professional to belong inside a nightclub. A doctor was already waiting, silver case open.
Jasmine tried to sit up. “No hospitals.”
“You need treatment,” Min-jae said.
“No police.”
He understood before she said more.
A Black woman. A billionaire’s son. A drugged drink. A room full of people who would suddenly forget what they had seen.
“Your choice,” he said. “But not your risk alone.”
The doctor checked her pulse, eyes, breathing. He asked questions Jasmine struggled to answer.
“What did she drink?” he asked.
Min-jae looked at Daniel.
Daniel had already sealed the broken glass, the bottle, the napkin, and the server’s tray in clear bags.
“The lab will know,” Daniel said.
Min-jae’s voice dropped. “The lab will know in twenty minutes.”
Downstairs, the club remained frozen.
Victor Hale, the manager, stood near the bar with sweat shining at his temples.
Nathaniel Crowe sat in a chair under guard, furious but afraid enough to stay quiet.
His friends kept checking their phones.
None had signal.
Min-jae had killed the network.
Not forever. Just long enough.
A woman near the dance floor began crying. “I didn’t do anything.”
Min-jae’s voice came through the speakers from the upstairs security room.
“Then you have nothing to fear.”
That was not entirely comforting.
In the medical room, Jasmine drifted in and out. She heard Camille arguing. Simone threatening someone. Daniel speaking Korean on the phone. Min-jae saying her name each time her eyes closed too long.
“Stay with me,” he said.
She laughed weakly. “That was my line.”
His hand tightened around the bed rail.
Eight months earlier, she had pressed satin to his wound and told him not to die.
Now he stood above her, unable to kill the fear inside his own chest.
“I found you,” he said.
Her eyes opened slightly. “You were looking?”
He did not answer fast enough.
Even drugged, Jasmine understood silence.
“You knew who I was.”
Min-jae looked away.
Camille’s face hardened. “What does that mean?”
Jasmine’s voice trembled. “He knew.”
Min-jae did not deny it.
“I tried to protect you.”
“From a balcony?” she whispered. “Through cameras?”
He flinched.
The doctor interrupted before the wound could deepen.
“She’ll be all right,” he said. “Whatever she ingested was fast-acting, but she took very little. We need fluids, monitoring, and rest.”
Min-jae nodded.
But Jasmine was staring at him with something worse than fear.
Disappointment.
Downstairs, Daniel entered the bar office.
Victor Hale stood behind the desk.
“I want a lawyer,” Victor said.
May you like
Daniel closed the door.
“That is wise,” he replied. “You will need one.”
