The office buzzed like a beehive that ran on caffeine and secrets.
Keyboards clacked.
Phones rang.
And in every corner—
whispers.
"Did you hear? The wedding is in a week."
"No way—already?"
"I heard she's rich."
"I heard she's not—"
"Shhh, Ji-Ah is here—"
Ji-Ah stood at the coffee station, pouring the last cup with surgical precision.
Like the fate of the world depended on foam texture.
Her face?
Calm.
Neutral.
Unreadable.
But her thoughts?
Running marathons.
Min-Ji lied.
About everything.
And now she's walking into this family like she owns the blueprint.
Ji-Ah set the cup down.
Picked it up again.
Decision made.
Ha-Joon's office door.
She didn't knock.
She entered.
Inside—
Ha-Joon sat behind his desk, flipping through documents like the pages owed him money.
And leaning casually nearby—
Seo-Jun.
Of course.
Of course he was there.
Ji-Ah walked straight in.
Placed the coffee in front of Ha-Joon.
"I need to tell you something."
Direct.
Clear.
Important.
Ha-Joon didn't even look up.
"The report from Lunaris," he said smoothly, already talking, already interrupting, "have you finalized the vendor list?"
Ji-Ah blinked.
"…That's not what I—"
"And the venue contracts," he continued, flipping a page, calm as ever, "we can't afford delays."
Seo-Jun glanced at Ji-Ah.
Then at Ha-Joon.
Then back at Ji-Ah.
That look said everything:
He's doing this on purpose.
Ji-Ah narrowed her eyes slightly.
"I'm talking about Min-Ji."
Nothing.
Not even a pause.
Ha-Joon kept reading.
"If you're done with the coffee, you can—"
The door opened.
And there she was.
Min-Ji.
"Hi."
Simple.
Soft.
Perfectly timed.
All three of them looked at her.
Ji-Ah's fingers tightened slightly at her side.
Not noticeable.
But real.
Min-Ji smiled gently.
"I was called to come… I'm supposed to go out with Ha-Joon."
Ji-Ah's head snapped toward her.
"Nobody called you."
Flat.
Immediate.
Sharp.
And then—
Ha-Joon's phone rang.
The room stilled.
He picked it up.
Listened.
Silent.
Then—
"…Yes, Madam."
A pause.
A nod.
"I understand."
He hung up.
Stood.
Looked at Min-Ji.
"Madam sent you, right?"
Min-Ji nodded.
Of course she did.
Of course.
Ji-Ah took a step forward.
"Wait—"
But Min-Ji was already moving.
Not fast.
Not obvious.
Just—
positioning.
A slight shift.
A soft step.
A perfectly timed glance that kept Ha-Joon's attention forward.
And just like that—
he walked past Ji-Ah.
Like her voice hadn't even landed.
Like her warning didn't exist.
The door opened.
Closed.
Gone.
Silence.
Heavy.
Echoing.
Ji-Ah stood there—
staring at the door like it had personally offended her.
"…Wow."
She let out a slow breath.
Then another.
Disbelief settling in like a storm.
"She's planning something."
Not a guess.
A fact.
Behind her—
Seo-Jun stepped closer.
Careful.
Measured.
"This… was a mistake."
Quiet.
Serious.
For once—
no jokes.
Ji-Ah nodded slowly.
"…Yeah."
Her eyes didn't leave the door.
Then finally—
she turned to him.
Sharp again.
Focused.
"Where's her apartment?"
Seo-Jun didn't hesitate.
He already knew.
"Seoul. Mapo District. A small street near the old market—"
He gave her the full address.
Every detail.
Ji-Ah pulled out her phone immediately.
"Send it to me."
Her voice?
Back to business.
But her eyes?
Lit with something dangerous.
Because whatever Min-Ji was doing—
Ji-Ah was done watching from the sidelines.
She was about to go knocking.
--
The restaurant was… soft luxury.
Low golden lights.
Quiet clinking glasses.
A place where people spoke in calm voices and hid their chaos behind elegant smiles.
At a corner table—
Ha-Joon and Min-Ji sat across from each other.
And somehow—
it looked natural.
Too natural.
Min-Ji laughed.
Not loud.
Not forced.
Just enough to make people glance over and wonder what they were missing.
"You're seriously telling me," she said, leaning forward slightly, "you built half your company while forgetting to eat?"
Ha-Joon smirked faintly.
"I didn't forget. I just didn't prioritize it."
"That's worse."
"It worked."
"You're impossible."
"And yet you're here."
"…Regretting it already."
A pause.
Then—
they both laughed.
Soft.
Easy.
Comfortable.
Across the room—
hidden behind a menu that was definitely too big to be normal—
Ji-Ah watched them like a spy in a low-budget drama.
Except—
her outfit?
High budget chaos.
Elegant coat.
Wide hat.
Silk scarf.
And a thick British accent ready to attack at any moment.
"…This is sickening," she muttered under her breath. "Why do they look normal?"
Beside her—
Seo-Jun adjusted his fake mustache.
"Yes, quite dreadful, innit," he whispered in an equally ridiculous accent. "Should we truly proceed with this criminal activity, madam?"
Ji-Ah didn't even look at him.
"Yes."
Immediate.
Cold.
Focused.
"Do it."
Seo-Jun blinked.
"…Right. Straight to chaos then."
They watched carefully.
Timing it.
Waiting.
And then—
Ji-Ah moved.
She stood.
Walked toward their table with the grace of a dramatic theatre actress.
One step.
Two—
Then suddenly—
"AHHH—!"
She collapsed.
Right next to their table.
Clutching her leg dramatically.
"My leg! Oh dear heavens, my leg!" she cried out in a very questionable British accent. "Young man—young woman—save me!"
Ha-Joon blinked.
Min-Ji froze for half a second—
then immediately stood.
"Are you okay?" Min-Ji asked, reaching down.
Ha-Joon followed, already moving to help her up.
"Can you stand?"
Ji-Ah nodded dramatically.
"I believe—ah—my ankle has betrayed me—"
And right on cue—
Seo-Jun rushed in.
"My dear mates!" he exclaimed, equally dramatic, voice echoing just enough. "Help her! We cannot let her perish on the floor!"
Min-Ji looked confused.
Ha-Joon looked… tired.
But they still helped Ji-Ah up.
Careful.
Polite.
Focused on her.
Which meant—
no one was watching Seo-Jun.
Because in one smooth motion—
he reached—
picked up Min-Ji's phone from the table—
and slipped it into his coat.
Then—
a quick glance at Ji-Ah.
A small nod.
Mission successful.
Ji-Ah straightened immediately.
Dusted her dress.
Completely fine.
"Oh—how miraculous," she said brightly. "I am healed. Thank you kindly."
Min-Ji blinked.
"…You were just screaming—"
"Yes, well," Ji-Ah smiled stiffly, "the human body is full of surprises."
And before they could question anything—
she grabbed Seo-Jun's arm.
"Come along, dear."
And they walked away.
Fast.
Very fast.
Back at the table—
Min-Ji and Ha-Joon stood there for a second.
Processing.
"…That was weird," Min-Ji said slowly.
"…Very," Ha-Joon agreed.
A pause.
Then—
they both laughed.
Actually laughed.
And that?
That annoyed someone very far away.
Outside—
behind a corner—
Ji-Ah and Seo-Jun crouched like two detectives who had definitely broken at least five laws.
Seo-Jun unlocked the phone.
And—
they both leaned in.
Scrolling.
Swiping.
Searching—
Then—
they froze.
"…What."
Ji-Ah blinked.
Scrolled again.
Slower.
Careful.
There were photos.
A lot of photos.
Of—
Ha-Joon.
Not normal ones.
Not public ones.
Not just recent.
From the start of his business.
From events.
From places he shouldn't have been noticed.
"…Why does she have all of this?" Seo-Jun whispered.
Ji-Ah didn't answer.
Her eyes narrowed.
Because this wasn't random.
This wasn't coincidence.
This was—
history.
Hidden.
Collected.
Carefully.
"…She knew him," Ji-Ah said quietly.
"Before all of this."
They finished quickly.
Locked the phone again.
Silence stretched.
Then Seo-Jun looked at her.
"…Who's returning it?"
Ji-Ah looked back at him.
Blank.
Then—
slow smile.
"…You."
Seo-Jun blinked.
"…Excuse me?"
She was already stepping back.
"Good luck."
And just like that—
she left him there.
Alone.
With the evidence.
And the responsibility.
Seo-Jun sighed.
Adjusted his coat.
Muttered under his breath—
"…I hate this job."
Then turned—
and walked right back into the lion's den