How Am I Supposed to Call you?!

The Moretti mansion was quiet — too quiet.

Every sound So-yeon made seemed to echo forever: the soft pat of her slippers, the whisper of her skirt brushing the floor, the faint sigh she let out when she realized she might actually get lost again.

It had been three days since the wedding. Three days of polite conversations, cold dinners, and the occasional glimpse of her mysterious husband disappearing into his office like a ghost in a suit.

She had decided today she would explore.

“Maybe I’ll find the kitchen again,” she muttered, turning a corner. “Or an exit. That would be nice.”

She stopped in front of a heavy wooden door slightly ajar — Leonard’s study. She hesitated. The smart thing to do was to walk away. The curious thing to do… well, that won.

She peeked inside.

Books lined the walls from floor to ceiling, and the air smelled faintly of old paper and espresso. On the massive desk sat stacks of documents, a silver pen, and — surprisingly — a small photo frame turned face-down.

She frowned, whispering to herself, “If I were a tragic billionaire, what would I hide under a picture frame?”

Before she could lift it, a voice behind her froze her in place.

“Mrs. Moretti.”

She turned slowly. Leonard stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable but definitely not amused.

“Oh—hi!” she said with a nervous laugh. “I was just… admiring your books. Very… book-like.”

He stepped closer, eyes narrowing slightly. “You were in my private study.”

“Technically,” she said, holding up a finger, “I was near your private study. My feet just didn’t get the memo.”

Leonard didn’t reply. He simply walked past her, straightening the photo frame she’d almost touched.

She cleared her throat, trying to lighten the tension. “You know, you could just call me So-yeon. Or… do you prefer Mrs. Moretti all the time? Because that sounds like I’m your accountant.”

He glanced at her over his shoulder. “It’s formal. Appropriate.”

“So is calling you Mr. Moretti, but that feels like I’m addressing my college professor who’s about to fail me.”

He turned fully toward her now, arms crossing. “What would you rather call me?”

She blinked, caught off guard. “I—uh—well… Leonard?”

“Hmm.” He tilted his head slightly. “You say it like it’s a dangerous word.”

“Because it is,” she said quickly. “It sounds expensive. Like if I say it too loud, your father might charge me for it.”

That earned her a quiet huff — not quite a laugh, but the faintest sign of amusement.

“Fine,” he said, walking closer until he was standing a few steps away. “You may call me Leonard. Just don’t enter my study again.”

She smiled, relieved. “Deal.”

But as he turned back to his desk, she couldn’t help asking, “And what should I call you when you’re being extra cold and scary? Lord of the Ice Kingdom?”

He looked over his shoulder, one brow raised. “Careful, So-yeon.”

She clasped her hands behind her back, trying not to grin. “You said I could call you Leonard.”

“Not like that,” he said dryly, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of amusement before he looked away.

She tilted her head, watching him. “You know… for a man who doesn’t believe in emotions, you hide yours terribly.”

That made him pause. He turned back, slower this time, his gray eyes meeting hers — sharp, curious, maybe even intrigued.

“You think you understand me already?”

“No,” she said softly. “But I’d like to.”

Silence stretched between them — the quiet kind that hums with something unspoken.

Finally, Leonard sighed and gestured toward the door. “Go before you cause more chaos.”

So-yeon smiled, bowing playfully. “Yes, Leonard.”

He almost smiled again. Almost.

Later that night, as she sat by her bedroom window, she whispered the name to herself — softly, like a secret.

“Leonard.”

And down the hall, in his study, Leonard stared at the photo frame again, his mind somewhere far away — but his lips curved, just slightly.

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