Across The Pornhwa Verse

While Ha Ye-Jung was gathering her belongings, preparing to leave, her phone buzzed sharply against the lacquered wood of her desk. She barely had time to glance at the screen before it vibrated again. Then again. And again.

Her brows furrowed. Calls from her assistant, multiple shareholders—her stomach twisted at the sheer number of missed calls flooding in. Something was wrong.

'What in God's name happened?' she thought, snatching up the phone and answering the most recent call from her assistant.

"Yes, Gladice?" she said, her tone clipped but controlled.

The voice on the other end came fast, breathless. "Ms. Ha—someone just bought your entire company."

The words slammed into her like a physical blow. She straightened, gripping the phone tighter. "What?" Her voice barely rose above a whisper. "That's not possible. I didn't agree to anything."

"I know," Gladice rushed on. "But they still bought it. And not just the company—your assets too. Your house, your cars... everything."

Ha Ye-Jung's fingers tightened around the phone until her knuckles turned white. A cold sensation, something like dread but sharper, slithered through her veins.

She had built her company from the ground up, negotiated every deal, secured every contract with blood, sweat, and sleepless nights. She had full control. No one—not a single person—should have been able to take that away from her without her consent.

"Gladice, that doesn't make any sense," she said, her voice sharper now. "Who the hell could just buy everything I own?"

Silence. A hesitation, small but noticeable.

Then Gladice exhaled shakily. "The name on all the transactions is Travis Blackthorn."

For a moment, there was nothing. No sound, no movement—just the deafening roar of silence in her head.

And then it hit her.

Travis Blackthorn.

The name coiled around her like a noose, squeezing the breath from her lungs. Her pulse hammered against her ribs, her grip tightening around the phone as something dark and furious bloomed inside her.

Her phone buzzed again in her hand. Another call.

Unknown number.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.

With deliberate slowness, she answered.

"Ha Ye-Jung," the voice on the other end was smooth, controlled, and painfully familiar.

"Yo," Travis said, a lazy amusement laced in his tone. "We need to talk. Come downstairs. I'm waiting in your car."

She came down to the bottom floor, pushing through the restaurant doors in a hurry. The cool night air hit her face as she stepped outside, her eyes immediately locking onto her car parked across the street.

Ha Ye-Jung wasted no time, crossing quickly and slipping into the passenger seat, her heartbeat still racing from everything that had just happened.

"You've got so much explaining to do," she snapped, turning toward Travis, who was casually inspecting the interior of the car as if he had all the time in the world.

He ran his hand along the dashboard, nodding in approval. "Nice car. You custom-made this, right? Good thing it's mine now." He smirked, shifting the gear. "Well, let's go for a drive."

Before she could protest, he slammed his foot on the pedal, and the car shot forward, tires screeching against the asphalt.

Ha Ye-Jung barely had time to grab her seatbelt, clicking it into place as the city lights blurred past them. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the edge of her seat, her stomach lurching with every reckless swerve. Travis maneuvered through traffic like he had a death wish, cutting between cars with inches to spare.

"Are you insane?!" she shouted, but he didn't seem to hear—or maybe he just didn't care. He ran red light after red light, speeding down the roads as if he owned them.

Luckily, there weren't any cops in sight, though she was sure he'd racked up a dozen traffic violations in just a few minutes. Not that he seemed concerned.

When they finally stopped at a red light, he exhaled sharply, gripping the steering wheel. 'That was fun,' he thought, his lips curving into an amused smirk.

"So," he said, glancing at her. "What was your question again?"

Ha Ye-Jung didn't answer right away, still too busy trying to slow her breathing and convince herself she wasn't about to die in a fiery crash.

Travis chuckled, finally easing off the reckless driving. The car moved more smoothly now, cruising along the highway as the tension in the air settled.

She finally turned to face him, her voice firm. "Who are you, Travis? You bought my multimillion-dollar corporation without hesitation, and even worse—you bought all my assets as well."

He gave her an easy smile, keeping his eyes on the road. "Well, I'm nothing special. Just a young entrepreneur, I guess."

"Don't lie to me," she shot back. "Who's backing you? A sheikh? I know a few myself. So do what's right and return everything back to me."

Travis smiled as he turned toward her, his expression unreadable. "I will... if you do something for me," he said, his tone casual, but there was a sharp edge beneath it.

Ha Ye-Jung narrowed her eyes, wary of where this was going. "Oh, is it about the shop? If that's what you want, then sure. I'll give it to you."

Travis let out a low chuckle and shook his head. "No, it's not that."

Without another word, he flicked on the left indicator and smoothly pulled the car to the side of the road. The soft hum of the engine faded as he shifted into neutral and unbuckled his seatbelt.

Then, he turned to her fully, his gaze dark and unwavering. "I want you to suck it."

The words hung in the air like a sudden drop in temperature.

"Wait, what?" Ha Ye-Jung's eyes widened, her body stiffening as she processed what he had just said.

Travis leaned back, watching her reaction with amusement, his fingers lazily tapping against the steering wheel.

—

Meanwhile, in another part of the city, Nam Juho had finally succeeded in kicking out his so-called friends—the ones who had an annoying habit of using his apartment as their personal hookup spot. He let out a satisfied sigh as he sank into the chair on his balcony, the cool night air a welcome change from the stifling energy inside.

The city lights twinkled below, but his gaze was drawn to the few visible stars above.

'Travis hasn't returned. Guess we'll have that drink some other time,' he thought, exhaling as he leaned back against the chair.

Just as he was beginning to enjoy the peace, a sudden knock on his door shattered the silence.

He groaned, rubbing his face before dragging himself up. 'Who the hell is it now?'

Opening the door, he found himself face-to-face with Yeo Juyeon.

He blinked, taken aback, though he shouldn't have been. She had a habit of showing up unannounced. She and Nam Juho had history—long enough that knocking was merely a formality before she inevitably let herself in.

She stepped inside without waiting for permission, her expression exasperated.

"You know," she began, crossing her arms, "I don't care if you like watching porn, but please buy headphones or something."

Juho's jaw dropped. "I wasn't watching porn!!" he shouted, completely indignant.

TO BE CONTINUED