Scandal

eighteen | 어머니

E I G H T E E N

어머니 | mother

✧

JUDAS NAM'S MANSION looked like a palace of ice.

Shrouded in snowfall, a castle of sharp-edged ivory and silver pierced a hazy, pre-dawn sky. Glass balconies and soft-lit pavilions were stacked narrowly atop each other like guardian trellises. Sprawled across the snow-dusted front was a pool of water as still as glass, elongating the mansion with its perfect reflection.

Eris straightened the pin on her blazer and tugged on her white gloves. The bodyguard's clothes that Petra had nabbed did nothing to stop icy winds from seeping into her bones.

"What we need out of Judas is a confession," Petra had said the previous night, turning that copper pin in her fingers. "Judas will think Luke has only just connected the dots about him from digging into Dom's stuff. This works out perfectly, because Luke will head to Judas's house, use his brilliant acting to vent his anger and entertain the son of a bitch, and you..."

She'd turned to Eris then, eyes sparkling. "You'll be dressed as a bodyguard, tailing Luke's escort. When they're talking, you, Eris, sneak upstairs and search for the knife that matches the doctor's wound. Seems like Judas took it so the police wouldn't find it and trace its origin."

Now, Eris bowed her head and followed the suited broad-shouldered man leading Luke through silver gates. Behind her, Luke's jaw was tight as his eyes swept across his icy surroundings. She wondered how much of his anger was real.

Judas's mansion was all glass walls and trickling wall fountains. A ceiling glittering with crystal chandeliers arched high overhead. Their feet echoed against reflective white marble.

The mansion resembled him. Judas Nam was a wolf in sheep's clothing. A monster hidden beneath beauty.

"Chairman Nam will meet you in his office," said the bodyguard. His voice was low, and his brows were thick and furrowed. "This way."

His office.

"A little spying did the trick," Petra had explained. "He meets people in 'his office' on the first floor, but his actual office is on the second floor."

They arrived at a glass door. Eris paused right before it, a guard taking her post. The first bodyguard glanced over, disinterested, then turned to press his thumb on a sensor. He waited for Luke to enter.

Luke's gaze caught hers for a split second. Careful.

Her lips tilted, as if to say of course. The doors slid shut, sealing him inside, separated only by crystal clear glass. The first bodyguard disappeared from the room, a finger to his earpiece.

Eris touched the copper pin on her blazer sleeve and listened closely.

Muffled voices echoed inside. A deep, smooth one greeted Luke and invited him to sit, an invitation Luke refused.

Judas, she thought with a shiver.

Petra's voice echoed in her memory. "Luke, you're an actor. Do something to make him turn around. When his back is turned, Eris will take this film"—she'd waved a translucent slip in the air—"and transfer the bodyguard's fingerprint from the door's sensor."

Now, Eris turned her head slightly. Judas, dressed head to toe in ebony, leaned back as the latter spoke in low, tense tones. His lips were curled--Petra hadn't been joking when she'd said Luke's anger would entertain him. He drummed his fingers lightly on the armrest of his chair.