.
.
.
A fat elderly woman smiled and opened the door to the large palace Yoongi was standing in front of. It must have been a few years since he was last here, he thought.
But even after so much time, the kind woman remembered the man and greeted him with warm words. "Mr. Min! I'm glad to see you. Please come in."
Yoongi walked in silently watching the large reception hall lit only by a few lamps. Expensive antiques still adorned the large space around him. Everything remained just as he remembered.
"I will inform the boss that you are here. You know, he wasn't expecting you now...", the woman said and with a bow disappeared behind another door, which probably led to the private quarters of her boss.
Yoongi was left alone. He took a few steps and approached a wall on which stood a huge portrait of a young blond woman in her twenties. The frame was golden, massive and irregularly shaped. Ready to look around the room a little more, he was interrupted by the same woman from the door who informed him that another was waiting for him. One thing was for sure, Yoongi was reluctant to go back to this place.
Every time after visiting that house, Yoongi didn't feel well for a long time. There was no doubt, he wanted to wash away the painful impression which this man and this house had left on him, to redeem the consequences of knowing the Windgate and the whole inconsistency.
After several attempts to get rid of all connection with him, Yoongi sent the letter. In his legible and written handwriting, which barely showed nervousness, he wrote that he had decided to start a life on another continent and that the man in question would never, ever find him.
It was very much a lie, but well-intentioned. It was the only option left for the policeman to finally start living his life away from the evil intentions of this family.
And now, as he walked through the familiar corridors, towards the equally familiar room, he could only silently regret he had succumbed again and at the same time wonder how this man managed to find him again. He knew money opened many doors, but for God's sake, he was a cop.
The knocking of the fat housekeeper brought him back to reality and he had one last chance to solve this problem, before Taehyung or anyone from his station found out where he went.
"I saw your message. What do you want?", the middle-aged man with his hands on his hips stopped when he found himself in front of the older gray-haired man.
Although he appeared brave, Yoongi was actually trembling in front of the man. Not having the courage to confront him quite openly, to laugh at him, he tried to discreetly devalue every exaltation of the man in front of him. Yoongi's dark eyes pierced his mind as the older man looked at him.
Windgate was a tall man in his 70s, obviously English and good-looking. He had a broad and strong face for his age and a commanding bearing. You could tell at first glance that he was very rich, with all that jewelry on, but very sad.
"Take a whiskey, Yoongi."
Windgate held out the glass of expensive liquor he held in his hand, lazily rising from the leather armchair, his hand in the pocket of the house satin black robe. "I just poured it, with great care. In Korea you don't have nice drinks. This is from Manchester. Here you go."
"I'm on duty. I don't drink."
"Is that something new?", he laughed mockingly and then put the glass to his mouth and took a sip.
"What do you want?", he asked again.
"I have a job for you."
"I stopped doing that two years ago."
YOU ARE READING
•The persistence of memory• [ Taekook ]
FanfictionWhen detective Kim shows up at Jeon's door after 15 years, with the information that Moon Jeon's case is getting old, Jungkook has no choice but to start looking for the culprit alone. But what he didn't know is that Taehyung himself couldn't forge...
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