Jack returned to the fifth floor quietly, his footsteps barely echoing on the old concrete. The corridor stretched long and dim, lit by a single flickering bulb at the end. The guards stationed outside his room were chatting lazily—until Jack appeared out of nowhere behind them.
They froze.
Their eyes widened.
Their hands flew to their belts like they were caught stealing.
Jack didn't even look at them properly—just walked past with a small, mocking shrug.
"Do your job properly," he said casually. "Leader's orders."
The guards stiffened in pure shame.
Jack entered his room and shut the door behind him.
Only then did he breathe out—exhausted, both physically and mentally.
His eyes landed on the mirror.
He stopped.
And like always… he hated what he saw.
The golden hair.
The soft features.
The shape of his jaw.
The eyes.
He hated all of it.
Because all he could see… was her.
The woman who ruined him.
