Her trembling fingers slowly slid over the keyboard.

‘Yu Sae-Ra.’

It only takes a few seconds to type those three characters. But the hesitant fingers moved sluggishly.

Sae-Ra managed to type just the character ‘Yu’ into the search bar and repeated her name in her head several times. It felt as if it were someone else’s name, as if it were a completely unfamiliar name.

She had already imagined typing it out dozens of times in her mind, but her fingers continued to shake for a long time.

Yu Sae-Ra, get it together. You can’t keep avoiding this forever. You have to leave this room.

She had already encouraged herself thousands of times.

Closing her eyes tightly before opening them again, Sae-Ra curled her lips, took a deep breath, and cast her gaze to the wall across from her desk. The familiar scenery filled her eyes.

“Newcomer of the Year”

“Best Actress at the Baegak Film Festival”

“BBS Acting Awards”

“Cheongjo Arts Awards Best Acting”

The wall was covered with various posters from movies and dramas. Below them, rows of trophies were neatly lined up.

These were the traces of the time when the world praised her.

But now...

After exhaling deeply, Sae-Ra finally finished typing her name.

“Yu Sae-Ra”

And pressed enter.

As she slowly opened her eyes, which had been tightly shut, her profile appeared on the search page.

The confident gaze of Yu Sae-Ra from her prime felt unfamiliar.

Staring at the monitor with a complicated heart, Sae-Ra moved her fingers again and clicked on the entertainment news section.

“Yu Sae-Ra, consecutive no-shows at filming sites. Production team, no longer able to cover for her”

“It’s said to be caused by severe panic disorder... Fans are furious”

“Unprecedented event, lead actress replaced in a drama that was airing with high ratings”

Most of the articles were from three years ago. Most were negative, and there hadn’t been any recent articles, as if time had stopped.

There was a time when nothing could be discussed without mentioning Yu Sae-Ra.

What Yu Sae-Ra wore, what makeup she used, where she lived.

Everything about her was a product, and she was always in the spotlight. And it seemed as though it would last forever.

With her eyes half open and a cloudy gaze, Sae-Ra skimmed through the list, and after confirming there were no new updates, she closed her eyes again.

For the past three years, she had been hiding from the public, burying her existence.

As much as the time had passed locked in this room, the people of South Korea had begun to forget Yu Sae-Ra.

“Get a grip. Are you really just going to sit around wasting money like this?”

The reprimands from her agency’s CEO, Cha Joo-won, echoed in her mind, tightening her chest. Suddenly, her breath became shallow, and she felt a sharp pain in her chest, as if she had a collapsed lung.

Sae-Ra gripped her chest, gasping for air as she tried to steady her breathing.

Today was the ‘promised day’ that Cha Joo-won had spoken of. She had declined it dozens of times, using her illness as an excuse.

For a long time, CEO Cha had been coaxing and persuading her, but he no longer beat around the bush.

“What are you doing now? You don’t want to act? Then at least sell your smile.”

The last time he visited, his words were no longer persuasive, but a threat.

Zing─ Zing─

The phone next to the laptop vibrated. Sae-Ra didn’t even need to look at it to know who it was, so she just scowled and didn’t check the caller.

“You’ve got an offer to appear. It’s not confirmed yet, but since you’ve been on a long break, they want you to audition. You have to do it. I can’t cover for your panic disorder anymore.”

A few weeks ago, Cha Joo-won had brought Sae-Ra an opportunity.

However, the offer was strange.

It wasn’t for a lead role, but a supporting role, which wasn’t important.

She accepted it with gratitude, but the production company said the audition would be held at a villa in Namyangju.

They told her to dress well, as the role she’d be playing had a sexy concept.

An audition late at night. A villa in Namyangju. And the production company, KY Entertainment.

It turned out that KY Entertainment had a bad reputation. Cha Joo-won, knowing this, still insisted that Sae-Ra go without question.

“This audition being at a drinking party, something’s wrong. This is not a normal audition!”

“What do you know? A big player from the movie production company specifically requested you. You should consider yourself lucky. Do you think you have a choice right now?”

How much time passed? The caller didn’t give up. The person calling and the person receiving the call were both stubborn, and the vibrating sound filled the room.

Zing.

The vibrating phone loudly thudded against the wooden table. The noise from the phone seemed like an oppressive sound, suffocating her.

But avoiding it wouldn’t solve anything.

Sae-Ra sighed and picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

[Yu Sae-Ra!]

The moment the call connected, Cha Joo-won shouted at her. It was hard to tell if he was calling her name or yelling at her. She could already picture his face even without seeing it.

He was definitely frowning deeply. After the call, he’d probably throw the phone again.

Sae-Ra absentmindedly held the phone, lost in thought, when another loud voice came through the receiver.

[Are you listening?]

“Yes, I’m listening.”

Sae-Ra wasn’t really listening, but she said she was.

She knew very well that, regardless of her reaction, Cha Joo-won would come to pick her up, and he’d force her out of the house if necessary.

She had already exhausted all her excuses, and even if she died tonight, Cha Joo-won wouldn’t bat an eye.

So, she had reached a state of resignation.

That’s why, for the first time in three years, she searched her own name.

Before being dragged out of the house, she needed to acknowledge the reality. She had to realize that she wasn’t the Yu Sae-Ra from three years ago anymore.

[I’m leaving now. I have a hair appointment at 6, so be ready.]

“CEO, I’m…”

[Cut it out.]

His sharp response cut her off like a knife. The harsh tone of his voice made it hard for her to say anything in return.

Click.

Without even giving her a chance to react to his cold words, the call was abruptly ended.

The silent cabin filled with the sound of the aircraft cutting through the atmosphere. A man quietly raised his hand.

One of the few passengers in first class signaled, and the attendant quickly approached the man.

“Sir.”

When the flight attendant softly greeted him, the man smiled gently. Then, in a deep, resonant tone, his voice flowed from his firm lips as though it was soaking the air around him.

“I’d like another glass of wine. Is that possible?”

“It should still be possible.”

The foreign flight attendant’s face reddened slightly. Although it was a short sentence, his fluent, polite British accent captured her attention.

The man had a captivating face, one that drew people in with just a glance. His sharp nose and well-defined jawline made it hard to look away.

“How much longer until we land?”

“….”

The flight attendant, momentarily distracted, finally snapped back to attention when the man gave a subtle glance.

“About an hour and a half.”

“Thank you.”

The man sipped the wine poured by the attendant and gazed out the window.

Nearly ten years of traveling abroad. He had visited Korea often during that time, but this trip was different. It was the final return home after a long period abroad.

When he thought of Korea, one name always came to mind. Yu Sae-Ra.

When was the last time he saw her name in the entertainment section?

For a long time—no, for quite some time—just thinking about the name Yu Sae-Ra was enough to tear at his heart with painful memories.

“I hope she’s doing well. Yu Sae-Ra.”

As he retraced his faint memories, the man closed his eyes as the aircraft began its descent.

“Executive Director Seo Ha-Jin!”

As soon as he entered the arrivals hall, a familiar face waved at him. It was Oh Byung-wook, his secretary, who had arrived in Korea a few days earlier.

Ha-Jin handed him the travel-sized suitcase he was carrying and followed him.

His luggage was surprisingly light for the length of his stay.

“You’re still the same. I never thought you’d really come with just one bag.”

“Always the same.”

Ha-Jin, sitting in the backseat of the car, casually replied and turned on his phone. The most recent messages were from just a few minutes ago.

“Ha-Jin, when you arrive, come straight to the Namyangju villa. We’ve prepared a welcome party.”

A welcome party? He knew I hated those kinds of things.

The message was from Baek Dong-hwan, a friend Ha-Jin had known since childhood.

“Are you going home?”

Just as he was about to answer “yes,” another message from Baek Dong-hwan came through.

“You need to manage your connections. Okay?”

The accompanying photo showed Dong-hwan and some long-time friends.

“Let’s go to Namyangju.”

“Aren’t you tired?”

“How could I be tired?”

It had already been three years since Ha-Jin’s father, Seo Jeong-cheol, the chairman of the Kanglim Group, passed away.

His mother, who had quickly taken charge of the group after his father’s death, had urged Ha-Jin to return. It was a request to help strengthen her position in the corporate power struggle that had begun after his father’s death.

Ha-Jin was now set to take charge of the Kanglim Group alongside his mother, the current chairwoman, Yeon Ji-sun. Naturally, a tight schedule awaited him.

Many of the executives at the group had known Ha-Jin since he was a child.

He was given the significant responsibility of leading the large ship that was Kanglim, and he would have to navigate the older, more experienced members who saw him as nothing more than a young upstart. Rest would only come on the day of his return to Korea.

“I prefer to get the tasks I don’t want to do out of the way first,” he thought.

After all, he would have to face those friends sooner or later, and this event, with the third-generation heirs of the top 10 chaebols, was one he couldn’t avoid. Fortunately, the time difference provided a good excuse. As long as he made a brief appearance, he didn’t have to stay long.

‘Namyangju villa…’

Baek Dong-hwan’s Namyangju villa was a well-known spot among those in the know. The secret space beneath the villa, which doubled as a wine cellar, was a place where all sorts of shady activities took place—rumors that only journalists had heard. It was Dong-hwan’s hidden hideaway.

Given Dong-hwan’s personality, Ha-Jin doubted that this would be a typical welcome party, and he wasn’t thrilled about it. His gut feeling proved to be right.

As he arrived at the villa and descended the stairs to the basement, he could hear the sounds of a man and a woman arguing.

Slap.

It was unmistakably the sound of a slap—a sharp, echoing sound that could only come from a slap across the cheek.

Finally, as he entered the basement, he saw Baek Dong-hwan holding his cheek, with his back turned to a woman who stood there.

Hajin’s gaze shifted from the woman and Donghwan to the group surrounding them.

It was obvious what the atmosphere at today’s drinking party was like. Several women in revealing outfits and friends who seemed to be heavily intoxicated.

This is exactly why I didn’t want to come.

It seemed the raucous party was at its peak.

As always, no doubt Donghwan must have made a “mistake” with one of the women he’d invited. Then again, could it really be called a mistake?

Everyone here knew that intentional missteps disguised as accidents happened all the time in this place.

In fact, some of the women almost seemed to expect it.

That’s why Hajin felt disgusted, over and over again, every time he came to gatherings like this.

The laughter of the women who came to such events and the men who put a price on that laughter—

To Hajin’s eyes, it all seemed dirty and vulgar.

Donghwan noticed Hajin entering the basement and bit his lip, muttering something about being “embarrassing.” Then he turned toward the woman, glaring as he raised his hand.

It was supposed to be a welcome party, yet this is what it had turned into. Hajin felt it was almost absurd to even think about intervening.

This sort of behavior was typical for Baek Donghwan, and he’d slapped and knocked over more than a few women like this before.

Occasionally, there were women who acted as though they were above all this—selling their smiles but pretending to be aloof and expensive.

“What, you little—”

“Donghwan, you said this was a welcome party.”

Hajin sighed as he approached an empty seat. The spacious hall was centered around a U-shaped leather sofa surrounding a massive wine cellar. Thousands of wine bottles lined the glass walls on all sides.

“Ah, sorry. This girl had to ruin the mood at just the right moment. Hey, who do you think you are?”

Donghwan’s hand moved threateningly toward her, but a few other friends nearby stopped him.

“Donghwan, if you act like this the moment Hajin arrives, do you think he’ll stick around?”

Judging by how the others weren’t siding with Donghwan, he must’ve caused quite a scene. While no one openly said it, a few of them were clearly fed up with his antics.

Even so, everyone continued showing up to these gatherings. After all, Hajin, Donghwan, and the rest of the regular attendees were all heirs to the country’s most influential conglomerates, wielding significant economic power in Korea.

Hajin’s life had been meticulously planned by his parents since childhood, and even his friendships were carefully curated networks.

Donghwan was one of those third-generation chaebol connections passed down from their parents’ generation.

Regardless of personal character, he couldn’t be entirely disregarded.

“Damn it. Hey! Look up. Let me slap you once—that’s only fair, isn’t it?”

Donghwan poked the woman’s shoulder with his index finger, pushing her.

“Enough.”

Hajin, now seated, looked at Donghwan and spoke curtly. His piercing gaze made Donghwan flinch and avert his eyes.

Donghwan instinctively felt fear toward Hajin.

It was a story from their rebellious teenage years, but Donghwan had once been beaten half to death by Hajin. The memory of that fear, etched into his brain, continued to define the dynamic between them.

“Ugh. Unbelievable.”

Donghwan let out a long sigh, loudly grumbling about letting it go out of respect for Hajin before sitting down. Hajin smirked at Donghwan’s antics and raised his glass.

“Hajin, congratulations on returning to Korea.”

After everyone toasted and took a sip, the woman still stood with her head bowed.

“How long are you planning to stand there?”

The woman standing across from him was bothering him so much that Hajin finally said something. In a low voice, he added, “You’re distracting,” and her shoulders trembled slightly as if she’d heard him.

“Why act like that, even after coming to a place like this? You’d get what you want if you were more upfront about it.”

Hajin threw in another remark, thinking her feigned arrogance wouldn’t do anything to raise her worth.

If she kept acting like that and got hit by Donghwan again, all Hajin would do was frown. His patience, which had already been stretched thin, would likely snap completely at that point.

Hearing Hajin’s words, the woman slowly sat down.

Although she still didn’t lift her head, making it far from a pleasant sight, Hajin didn’t care. If she ended up getting her hair grabbed by Donghwan, perhaps then she’d finally understand her place. To Hajin, it was simply pathetic.

One of Donghwan’s more twisted hobbies was humiliating once-famous actresses.

It went beyond a mere hobby; the bastard even set up a production company called KY Entertainment or something.

Hajin had no intention of sitting around and watching Baek Donghwan’s trashy antics escalate. At most, he gave himself 30 minutes. He began timing his exit.

“Hajin, you know Yu Saera, right?”

At Donghwan’s words, Hajin’s eyes sharpened instantly. Hearing that name from the lips of such filth felt like being covered in sewage.

“Why?”

Hajin lifted his gaze from his glass to glare at Donghwan. His murderous expression chilled the air, silencing everyone in the room.

Yu Saera was a name none of Hajin’s friends dared to utter.

They knew exactly what she meant to him.

“Do you even know how much effort I put in? It was really tough.”

“What was?”

The quieter Hajin’s voice became, the faster Donghwan, seemingly out of his mind, spoke. Two empty bottles of whiskey stood in front of him.

“Bringing Yu Saera here, I mean.”

The moment Donghwan said that, Hajin’s eyes darted quickly. His gaze locked onto the woman across from him, as if nailed in place.

A split second of stillness.

The woman still had her head lowered. All the other women seated between the men and Hajin’s friends were silently rolling their eyes, avoiding any comment.

Only Baek Donghwan, like a lunatic, kept running his mouth.

“There’s this new movie I’m investing in.”

Donghwan drained his glass and made a circle with his thumb and index finger, shaking it.

“Everything in this world is about money, don’t you think? Even someone like Yu Saera—the almighty Yu Saera—comes when she’s called, goes when she’s told. Isn’t that just how it is? Washed-up actress, bad rumors, struggling to land roles. How hard must it be?”

Donghwan jabbed at the woman seated next to him, who still had her head lowered, with his finger.

“Saera, didn’t you say you used to do ballet? If you came for an audition, you should at least dance or something to show your enthusiasm, shouldn’t you?”

When Donghwan jabbed her sharply again, the woman flinched away and raised her head—and in that moment, her eyes met Hajin’s across the room.

Yu Saera.

Hajin froze, unable to utter a word.

Was it because he had longed for her for so many years? Or was it the disbelief that someone he had assumed was doing well had been dragged to a place like this? Maybe it was both.

As their eyes locked, Saera quickly averted her gaze but then slowly raised her head again to meet his.

Hajin couldn’t tell if her expression was pleading for help or asking him to stay silent about their past.

What he did know was that a storm of emotions was erupting inside him, and his unbearable anger was growing stronger by the second.

Why, in the first place, had she even come to a place like this?

“It’s such a long time ago. I barely even remember.”

At Donghwan’s gesture, Saera, unable to endure any longer, shielded her side with one hand and replied quietly.

But Hajin, hearing her words, felt his stomach churn as if the world was spinning. Was she saying it for him to hear? He found himself stunned.

“Is that so? Well, it’s all in the past anyway,” Donghwan said with a sly grin, placing a hand on Saera’s shoulder. A vein bulged on Hajin’s forehead. It was as if Donghwan was determined to settle an old score from ten years ago.

“If you’re coming to places like this, you know exactly what to expect, don’t you? So, how does it feel to have a reunion like this?”

A cheap provocation.

Hajin had no intention of falling for Donghwan’s transparent tricks. To think that, at his age, Donghwan’s idea of a grand scheme was humiliating a friend who had just returned after ten years. Maintaining their relationship no longer seemed worth it.

“Boring.”

Hajin gave a short reply, deliberately dropping his gaze to his glass with an air of indifference.

The Gwangwoon Group, where Donghwan hailed from, was a lawless zone overflowing with children from legal wives, mistresses, and even illegitimate affairs.

Even if it wasn’t Baek Donghwan, there were plenty of alternatives for networking. Hajin had always considered Donghwan beneath him, tolerating him only out of necessity, but now he felt it was time to draw a clear line.

And then there was Yu Saera.

The girl he had grown up with but could never call family.

His first love, who had broken his heart into pieces as she bid him goodbye.

Someone he thought of now and then, hoping she was doing well somewhere out there—a figure locked in the past.

“So, you left to live independently, declaring you’d make a life for yourself, and this is where it’s led you?”

Hajin stood up abruptly. His gaze, full of disdain, settled on Saera, who still kept her head down.

Her continued refusal to meet his eyes felt like a plea for him to pretend not to know her. Hajin had to suppress the storm brewing inside him, repeating to himself that she was no longer his concern.

Whatever had brought her here, Yu Saera was no longer the woman he had once known. This might not even have been her first time in such a setting.

“Hajin, I went to so much trouble to set this up, and you’re leaving? The fun part hasn’t even started yet. Why don’t you stick around and join in?” Donghwan taunted.

“Forget it.”

As Hajin turned to leave, a soft cry escaped Saera’s lips behind him. Voices rose as his friends tried to intervene.

“Donghwan, you’ve had too much to drink.”

“Someone stop Donghwan already!”

Hajin instinctively turned his head, and what he saw froze him in his tracks.

“Hey, you bitch! Do as you’re told before I beat the crap out of you!” Donghwan snarled, yanking at Saera’s clothes by the shoulder.

“Let go,” Saera muttered, clutching at her torn shirt.

Her face, pale with fear, contorted as she bit her lip. Her delicate arm suddenly swung through the air, striking Donghwan hard across the face.

Slap!

For a moment, the shock of being slapped twice rendered Donghwan speechless, but then he erupted, spewing curses as he lunged at Saera. At the same time, Hajin’s fist flew toward Donghwan.

“You bastard, there are limits to what you can touch.”

The room descended into chaos.

Women screamed and scrambled to get away. Friends rushed to pull Hajin and Donghwan apart. Donghwan laughed maniacally even as he got hit, while Hajin, his eyes blazing, kept throwing punches.

The scene that was on the verge of turning into a full-blown brawl was finally stopped by Saera. She clung to Hajin’s arm as he continued to throw his fists.

“Oppa, stop it.”

Letting go of Donghwan’s collar, which he had been gripping tightly, Hajin threw him to the floor and cracked his neck with a sharp motion.

“Don’t get cocky, Baek Donghwan. Don’t ever show up in front of me again.”

While Donghwan smirked and wiped away the blood trickling from his split lip, Hajin grabbed Saera, who stood nearby, and pulled her outside.

“Saera.”

Hajin, who had pulled Saera outside the villa, remained silent for a while.

The night had deepened, and each exhale turned into a white mist that disappeared into the cold air.

Hah...

As he took a deep breath, the long exhale soaked the night air and vanished, but Saera stayed silent.

“...Don’t come to places like this anymore.”

The first words Hajin managed to speak after a long sigh were a feeble warning. As much as he hated to admit it, there was nothing money couldn’t buy, and that included people.

Of course, this was only true when Saera had put herself up for sale.

Whatever had driven Saera to this place, if the root of it wasn’t resolved, it was obvious that she would be dragged back to such places again tomorrow, or the day after.

Hajin didn’t want to worry about that just yet. Actually, he didn’t want to know.

If possible, he wanted to pretend tonight had never happened. There was no point in dragging things out. If he did, only pain would remain. Saera was a person of the past.

Maybe it was better to see the current Saera as someone entirely different from the past. That way, if he thought of his first love as already dead, he could stop caring about whatever she did now.

Amidst the complicated thoughts that felt like they might explode his head, Saera spoke up.

“It’s none of your business.”

It was a habit of hers that reminded him of old times. Hajin couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh in this absurd situation. It was a laugh full of frustration.

In truth, Saera didn’t call him “oppa” unless it was a situation where it was disadvantageous for her. With just a one-year age difference, she never called him that, always addressing him as “you” in a defiant tone.

“Now it’s ‘you’? When you used to call me oppa when I was trying to stop you.”

Hajin clicked his tongue and looked at Saera, who stood before him.

Her pretty features and figure were just as he remembered. No, actually, she seemed even thinner than the Saera he remembered. Her hollow face and pale complexion looked almost translucent.

As far as he could recall, until just a few years ago, Saera had been at the center of South Korea.

But looking at her now, the Saera standing before him was like a drenched mouse, pitiful and pathetic.

What happened to you?

He wanted to ask, but he didn’t. She was not the type to give an answer willingly.

She still had the same temper, proven by her slapping Donghwan twice. But how did she end up here? What had pushed Saera into this situation?

But whatever it was, she would somehow manage, as always.

Hajin tried to cut off the thoughts that were tangling in his mind. Even a brief encounter like this was enough; any more would be dangerous.

“You shouldn’t be saying that to the person who saved you and took a punch for you.”

He said it in a tone that tried to sound nonchalant, as if it didn’t matter to him anymore.

He spoke with a faint smile, as if joking with an old friend, his stance one that dismissed her situation entirely.

But even after his words, Saera kept her head down, not meeting his gaze.

It must have been humiliating. For someone like the proud Saera, this reunion, after ten years, had turned into a gathering of worn-out people at a drinking party.

“If you have nothing to say, go. You didn’t think I was expecting a warm reunion after disappearing like that, did you? Especially after showing up at a place like this.”

Despite throwing a farewell-like statement, Hajin still didn’t turn his back.

The more time he spent facing Saera, the more he hesitated in her presence.

“I’m leaving.”

The final words were more for himself than for her. It was a promise to walk away, to stop being tangled in her gaze and head on his own way.

“Hey, oppa.”

For a moment, as he heard her call him “oppa,” the past washed over him like a wave, soaking his entire body.

He recalled the young Saera, who would call him “oppa” and smile shyly whenever things weren’t going her way.

Ha, what an idiot.

His unavoidable feelings made his steps heavy once again. When he raised his gaze to look at Saera, she was looking elsewhere.

Following where her gaze landed, he saw the Starcraft van hidden in the shadow of an alley. And in front of it, a large man was smoking a cigarette.

“Will you stay with me just tonight?”

“Why?”

“I can’t go like this.”

“Go where?”

“...I can’t go home. I have to stay out all night... I need to get inside.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It was an audition, but it’s obvious I didn’t get the role. I think I need to buy some time...”

Hah.

Saera, who had been nervously shifting her eyes, looked back at Hajin. He, as if to shake off her gaze, forced a smile, curling one corner of his mouth.

“How did you end up like this? Now you’re even being followed around by a bodyguard.”

“...That’s how it happened.”

“Always giving me vague answers... As usual, you’re living recklessly, just like back then.”

Should he listen or not? Hajin kept a calm, nonchalant expression on his face.

As a boy, he used to be swayed by every word Saera said, but now, he stood at a position where he was being considered as the head of a group.

Yet...

Although he wasn’t the same Seo Hajin as before, Saera probably wasn’t the same Saera either.

So why was his heart racing so much at her request to spend the night together?

What a complete idiot.

He had mocked the many women who had been called to Donghwan’s drinking party as dirty, yet now he gave Saera a free pass, as if it was nothing.

Whatever her circumstances were, he would no doubt find countless ways to justify it.

One word from you and everything I’ve built falls apart, Saera.

Hajin kicked a small stone at his feet, then called out to Saera, gesturing toward his car.

“Let’s go. Get in my car.”

As Saera started moving toward his car, the man who had been hidden in the shadow of the alley rushed over. When he had closed half the distance between them, Hajin raised his palm to stop him.

“How far are you planning to follow? Are you going to watch over me even when I’m in bed?”

The manager, looking irritated by Hajin’s tone, furrowed his brow.

“Where are you taking Saera-noona?”

“Forget it. Send a car to Yeonwoonam Hotel tomorrow morning.”

Hajin gave his orders firmly, then, as he turned to leave, added one more sentence.

“No, wait until Saera contacts you. Don’t call unnecessarily.”

Even with Hajin’s words, the manager couldn’t hide his worried expression as he looked at Saera.

“Yunseok, he’s someone I’ve known for a long time. It’s fine.”

When Saera spoke in her soft voice to clarify, the manager’s expression finally softened, and he relaxed.

“Unnie, I’ll wait at the hotel. Contact me.”

The manager politely bowed to Saera and turned toward the van.

“He’s a good person. You didn’t have to treat him like that.”

Once Hajin got in the car, Saera, already inside, protested in a calm voice. Despite the clear protest in her tone, she kept her voice level, so it didn’t upset him.

Without realizing it, Hajin almost responded with an “Okay, sorry,” but he bit his lip and swallowed it.

Even though it had been ten years since their reunion, her way of addressing him was as natural as if they had met yesterday. Just a few minutes ago, she couldn’t even make eye contact, yet now she was acting as if nothing had changed.

It was the same face he remembered—the face that immediately rejected his confession.

That indifferent face, which had torn his heart apart with such disregard for his feelings.

He had never forgotten that face because he hated it.

Seeing it again in front of him now, Hajin was involuntarily reminded of who she was back then.

Saera was a woman with this strange quality.

He hated her, he hated her so much, yet that made him obsess over her even more.

How have I lived since that day?

Hajin, not wanting to continue the conversation, sealed his lips.

Saera didn’t speak again either, sensing his silence. The car was filled with an uncomfortable stillness, and even the sharp-eyed Manager Oh kept quiet.

As the car left the outskirts of Namyangju and entered the highway, Hajin deliberately avoided looking at Saera. He knew she was stealing glances at him, but he pretended not to notice.

If their eyes met, he was certain unnecessary words would spill out.

“Go back home,” that kind of thing.

But once the thought crossed his mind, it kept rising in his throat, teasing him. Hajin clenched his jaw, trying to suppress it, but in the end, he blurted it out.

“If you’re going to go to that kind of place, at least take my call.”

“I’ll get out.”

She probably didn’t mean to get out, but as she grabbed the door handle, Saera’s expression froze in an instant.

It was as if she had heard something she shouldn’t have, her face filled with horror.

“It was just a careless remark. Forget it.”

It didn’t really need to be said, but Hajin maintained a nonchalant expression, trying not to show surprise. Then, he turned his face toward the opposite side and looked out the window.

The car, just exiting the highway, entered the shadow of the city’s night. As always, the flashing billboards lit up in vibrant colors, but the atmosphere still felt dull and boring.

Through the reflective window, Saera’s face appeared in glimpses. She was staring at him silently as he turned his head away.

Hajin didn’t look at her again until the car reached the hotel.

The Yeonwoonam Hotel had a suite on the top floor that Hajin used as an office-cum-temporary accommodation whenever he returned to Korea.

Although he hadn’t officially set up a residence in Seoul yet, it was where he planned to stay tonight—but tonight, he intended to give it to Saera.

The spacious suite, which took up about half of the top floor, was bigger than most apartments. It was so large, it almost seemed vast.

When Saera entered the room, she hesitated, walking to the window. She stood there for a moment, gazing at the cityscape below, then muttered to herself.

“This room seems too expensive.”

“It’s where you’re staying.”

The words came out habitually.

Since the moment the name Yu Saera was etched into his mind, Hajin had always left the best for her. Always, without exception.

“You’ll have it.”

“You’ll eat it.”

“I’ll keep it by your side.”

The words, which he had said like a habit in the past, slipped out without thinking. They were words that brought back memories of just the two of them.

For a moment, he hesitated, but Hajin didn’t bother to explain further, brushing it off as if it was nothing.

But from that point on, Saera’s expression twisted in some way.