Be My Salvation
It was a silent dawn, the hour when the world held its breath.
The car carrying Tezman sped toward the estate. Beyond the windows stretched an abyss of darkness. Exhaustion crashed over him like a tide. Today had been unusually grueling. Laundering shadow money into the light always demanded intricate work. Investments scattered across China and Europe, timed recoveries, careful orchestration. He had handled it all, and in the end, he had dealt with the traitors leaking information to the Chinese side.
Tezman possessed monstrous stamina, yet today his body felt leaden. He tilted his head back against the rear seat and slowly closed his eyes.
He only meant to rest them for a moment. But the instant his lids fell shut, the image that rose was enough to shatter any hope of peace.
Han Sua.
He could not stop it. This was not a matter of will. The moment his mind loosened its grip, she surged forward unbidden.
His throat burned. The thirst had begun the day he met her. It seemed it would only be quenched once he had her beneath him, drawing out her cries and then soothing them with his hands. He forced his eyelids open and spoke.
“To the cathedral.”
At his single command, the driver turned the wheel without hesitation. The escort vehicles behind them followed suit, executing a smooth U-turn. Tezman glanced at the watch on his wrist. The hour hand rested just past two.
“Three hours should be enough.”
He knew Sua opened the cathedral doors around five in the morning. The thought of seeing her in three hours swept away the fatigue that had been devouring him.
The car stopped at a distance from the cathedral. His gaze naturally drifted toward the stone building visible through the window.
Though it was spring, the sharp chill of night had softened. Between the paving stones, tender sprouts that had timidly appeared days ago now pushed upward with quiet determination.
Perhaps because she had barely slept for several nights, or perhaps because she had finally fallen into deep slumber the night before, Sua’s complexion looked remarkably bright. Her mood as well.
Having unlocked the cathedral doors, Sua walked to the seat where she always prayed. The content of her morning prayers remained largely the same.
She gave thanks to God and asked Him to watch over Sister Agnes and the children at the orphanage. But lately, one more plea had been added: that He might lead the man who had become her own forbidden fruit to repentance and onto a righteous path.
It might contradict doctrine. It might be a prayer a woman preparing to take her vows should never utter. Yet she had to offer it. She told herself that the turmoil in her heart existed only to serve the Lord.
When the long prayer ended, Sua made the sign of the cross and opened her eyes. Father Vincenzo would not arrive for another hour, and cleaning the cathedral during that time was part of her daily duties.
She rose quietly and was about to fetch her cleaning supplies when the closed door swung open. A man walked in with the faint dawn light at his back. The moment she saw him, Sua’s calm heart began to thunder violently.
“Sister.”
He approached the frozen Sua and stopped before her. A faint metallic scent of blood clung to the black jacket he wore.
Sua understood at once what he had been doing before coming here. She studied the man standing before her, then spoke slowly.
“...By any chance.”
She cautiously voiced the question that had lingered since the day she watched him drive a crucifix into a man’s skull with casual indifference.
“...Do you do a lot of bad things?”
Bad things. The naive, almost adorable question drew a low chuckle from Tezman.
“Bad things?”
“Yes.”
“What exactly does Sister consider ‘bad things’?”
His head tilted slightly as he gazed at her, lips curving into a gentle smile. He was curious. He wanted to know the limits of her definition. At the same time, a flicker of fear passed through him. He worried that the “bad things” inside that small head of hers would make his own sins seem like nothing more than a child’s mischief.
“Well… um, hitting people, or fighting, things like that…”
“Similar.”
Of course, it never stopped at mere hitting.
Sua hesitated, then asked, “Did you do something like that today as well?”
She should have been afraid. Yet the emotion coloring her eyes was not terror but worry.
If he answered truthfully—Yes. I put a bullet through the skull of a traitor who sold information to the Chinese—what expression would she wear? Tezman chose silence. He had no desire to see the fragile walls of trust he had finally breached close up again.
Sua stared at him for a long moment before asking once more, her voice careful.
“Are you… hurt?”
“Are you worried about me?”
“Caring for the sick is what the Lord—”
“Our sister really is.”
He reached out slowly. His large hand cupped her cheek. The heat that radiated from his palm made her flinch.
“So very kind.”
“Ha… Tezman.”
A fragile breath escaped her as his hand slowly stroked down her cheek.
“You were praying just now?”
“…Yes. So please, stop…”
He withdrew his hand from her face only to take her hand instead, lifting it with surprising gentleness.
“If these small hands prayed for me instead of anyone else, I think I would become terribly excited.”
He lowered his lips and pressed a light kiss to the back of her hand.
“Wait…”
The moment she felt the warm, damp touch, Sua tried to pull away, but he continued. Lifting his gaze slowly, he met her eyes with a faint smile.
“Save me, Sister.”
It was dangerous. She prayed every single day not to fall into temptation, yet she was utterly powerless before him. Maintaining her composure with great effort, Sua answered.
“Salvation… comes from the Lord…”
“But my salvation is you.”
The words of refusal she had barely managed to utter were swallowed whole. A strange smile bloomed on Tezman’s lips as he watched her confusion and turmoil. This was exactly the ending he desired.
Eventually, she would abandon everything and choose him.
He released her hand with care. The sudden loss of warmth seemed to startle her; her fingers hovered in the air for a moment.
“I’ll leave now. It seems my prayer has been answered sufficiently.”
The sound of his footsteps echoed. Sua’s eyes clouded as she watched his retreating back grow distant.
Like a snake, he slithered into her heart, stirred everything inside, then slipped away. All that remained was dizzying chaos.
Sister Agnes had once told her that she must extend a helping hand to anyone in need. Tezman’s words—that his salvation was her—kept echoing in her ears. If she reached out to save him as Sister Agnes taught, the outcome was obvious.
She would be devoured.
She had already crossed too many lines. Her sins were beyond what any confession could cleanse. She could not allow them to multiply here. In this moment, Sua had only one choice: to flee from him until she could empty her heart, even if only for a little while.
Her hands came together instinctively, as if in prayer. But she did not pray. Her gaze remained fixed on the back of her neatly folded hands. Precisely on the spot where Tezman had pressed his lips.
While Sua stared blankly at her hand, the cathedral door opened again and Father Vincenzo stepped inside.
“Sua. You’re early again today.”
Seeing the elderly priest approach with his gentle smile, Sua quickly hid the hand Tezman had kissed behind her back.
“Ah, Father Vincenzo. Good morning.”
“I was just about to share some good news with you.”
“Good news?”
“Someone has offered to make a very generous donation to our cathedral.”
“A donation?”
The cathedral was small and, unlike others, quite poor. When Sua first arrived, she had been unable to bear the sight of the worn pews and had varnished them herself. The cross above the holy water font had been purchased with the last of Father Vincenzo’s personal funds.
A large donation was like rain falling on parched ground.
“Yes. He said he would help us repair both the cathedral and the monastery where we reside.”
“Really? We can finally replace those old chairs.”
When Sua smiled brightly, Father Vincenzo smiled in return.
“Ever since you came to us, Sua, many good things have happened. Please continue to look after us.”
“I should be the one asking for your continued guidance.”
Sua was about to step outside after their exchange when Father Vincenzo’s next words stopped her.
“Ah, yes. The donor mentioned you specifically.”
“Pardon?”
“The gentleman making the donation. He said he happened to visit the cathedral and that you kindly showed him around.”
Showed him around? Sua searched her memory. Since arriving, she had given tours only a handful of times. The cathedral was small and not a tourist site; it served only the local residents.
Father Vincenzo continued as Sua stood lost in thought.
“Ah, his name is Mr. Tezman.”