12.

Chapter 13

Sunoo barely slept that night.

Riki’s words burrowed under his skin, looping in his mind like a taunt he couldn’t escape.

"I let them catch me."

That wasn’t just arrogance. That was a warning.

Sunoo had read Riki’s files cover to cover, analyzing every report, every testimony, every gruesome photograph. The patterns were there—precise cuts, methodical placements, a clear signature. But if there was something missing, something deliberately left out…

He didn’t want to believe it.

And yet, here he was, sitting at his desk at three in the morning, files sprawled before him, trying to see what Riki wanted him to see.

Something about this was wrong.

The reports said the police had tracked Riki for months, leading to his dramatic capture in the abandoned warehouse where the last body had been found. A single knife, wiped clean, discovered in his possession. Blood on his hands. Evidence stacked high against him.

An open-and-shut case.

But the details… they were too neat.

Sunoo rubbed his temples, exhaustion weighing on him. He was letting Riki get to him. He knew that. And still—

A knock at the door made him jolt.

His heart slammed against his ribs.

No one should be here this late.

He swallowed, steeling himself, then rose from his chair and crossed the room, forcing his hands to stay steady as he unlocked the door.

A guard stood outside. The same one as before.

Sunoo exhaled, tension easing. Not Riki.

“Patient 043 is requesting another session.”

Again?

Sunoo’s stomach twisted. Riki never asked for sessions. And now, three times in a row?

He should refuse. He should.

And yet, the moment he opened his mouth, the words came out differently.

“…I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

—

The interrogation room was colder than before.

Sunoo didn’t know if it was the air conditioning or just Riki’s presence.

He sat in his usual chair, watching as Riki lounged against his restraints, eyes sharp with amusement.

"You’re back," Riki murmured.

Sunoo ignored the way his pulse jumped at the way he said it. "You requested me."

Riki smiled. “I did.”

Sunoo leaned back, crossing his arms. “Why?”

Riki didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he tilted his head, studying Sunoo like he was a puzzle he was still figuring out. Then, slowly, he smirked.

“I like the way you look at me.”

Sunoo stiffened. “That’s not an answer.”

Riki’s grin widened. “But it’s the truth.”

Sunoo exhaled sharply. He wasn’t going to play this game. Not tonight.

"You said I missed something," he said, cutting straight to the point. "What was it?"

Riki tsked. "No foreplay? Just straight to business?"

"Enough, Riki."

Riki chuckled under his breath, but there was something in his eyes—something sharp. Excited.

"You’re getting impatient," he mused. "That’s good."

Sunoo didn’t respond.

Riki’s smile turned lazy. “You went back through the files, didn’t you?”

Sunoo kept his expression neutral. “Maybe.”

“I bet you noticed it.” Riki’s voice dropped lower. “The gaps. The inconsistencies.”

Sunoo clenched his jaw. He had. He just didn’t want to admit it.

Riki watched him for a long moment before leaning forward, chains clinking softly.

“They were never going to catch the real monster,” he whispered. “Not while they were too busy looking at me.”

Sunoo felt his stomach drop. “Who?”

Riki smirked. “Now, now, doc. You already know the answer.”

Sunoo inhaled slowly, forcing his pulse to settle.

Riki was playing him. He had to be.

And yet—

There was something about the way he spoke, the certainty in his voice, that made Sunoo hesitate.

Made him wonder.

“You want to believe I’m lying,” Riki murmured, tilting his head. “But deep down, you don’t, do you?”

Sunoo didn’t answer.

Riki’s smile was sharp.

“You like this.”

Sunoo tensed. “No.”

“Yes,” Riki murmured, voice silken. “You like the chase. The questions. The way I get under your skin.”

Sunoo’s breathing was slow, measured. “You’re trying to manipulate me.”

Riki leaned in further, eyes dark. “And if I am?”

Sunoo hesitated.

Riki smirked. “You didn’t say no.”

The air between them felt charged, the room too small, the distance between them almost nonexistent.

Then, with deliberate slowness, Riki whispered:

“Would you still kiss me, doc?”

Sunoo’s pulse stopped.

He should have pulled back. He should have ended the session. But something in Riki’s voice, something in the way he looked at him, held him there.

And then—Riki moved.

He leaned in, chains pulling taut, stopping him just short. But it was enough.

Enough for Sunoo to feel the heat of his breath.

Enough for the room to spin.

Sunoo knew this was a mistake.

But his body betrayed him.

Because before he could think—before he could stop himself—he leaned in, too.

And this time, when their lips met, it wasn’t hesitant.

It was fire.

Riki smiled against his lips, like he knew. Like he had won.

Sunoo should have pulled away.

But Riki’s tongue flicked against his lips, teasing, demanding—

And Sunoo’s resolve snapped.

His hands curled into Riki’s shirt, dragging him closer, even as the chains rattled between them.

Riki laughed into the kiss, dark and delighted, like this was the game he had been waiting to play all along.

And Sunoo—Sunoo was losing.

Because when he finally pulled back, breathless, pulse thrumming—

Riki grinned.

"You want me," he whispered, eyes gleaming.

Sunoo’s stomach twisted.

Because Riki wasn’t wrong.

And that? That was the most dangerous thing of all.