Morning came too quickly.
Lyla barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, something haunted her —
Junho's voice on the rooftop, the way Chairman Min-Jae had looked at her in the retreat house, her father's cold threats.
When her alarm buzzed, she felt like she'd been underwater all night.
She dragged herself out of bed, washed her face, and forced herself into a simple beige dress. She couldn't look too captivating today — she didn't want to encourage the Chairman more than her father already intended.
But she also couldn't look careless.
This life was a tightrope, and every step was a risk.
When she stepped out of the building, a sleek black sedan was waiting.
The driver bowed lightly. "Miss Lyla, Chairman Min-Jae asked me to pick you up."
Her heart clenched.
It was already starting.
She entered the car slowly, dread sinking into her bones as the city passed by in a blur
The entire top floor of k group was silent when she arrived. Too silent. Even the receptionists seemed tense, like they'd been ordered to avoid her presence.
"Miss Lyla," the secretary said, guiding her to the private office. "The Chairman is expecting you."
Her palms grew clammy.
The doors opened with a soft click.
Chairman Min-Jae stood by the window — tall, elegant, dressed in a charcoal suit that made him look impossibly powerful. One hand was tucked into his pocket, the other holding a cup of black tea.
He didn't turn immediately.
He waited.
As if testing her patience.
Finally, he spoke. "You came."
His voice was deep and smooth, like velvet stretched over steel.
"Yes, Chairman," she said softly.
He turned then — slowly — eyes landing on her like a warm, heavy weight. There was something new in his gaze today. Something deeper. Something she wasn't ready for.
"Sit," he instructed.
She obeyed.
He set his teacup down and walked toward her. Each step was controlled, confident — the kind of man who didn't rush because the world adjusted to his pace.
"Are you well?" he asked.
Lyla blinked.
Of all things, she didn't expect that.
"Yes," she said, though her voice trembled.
He studied her. "You're lying."
Her throat tightened.
He lowered himself into the seat across from her, eyes never breaking contact.
"You had a difficult night."
It wasn't a question.
She stiffened. "How do you know?"
"Because," he said quietly, "I saw it in your eyes before you left the retreat."
Her heart skipped painfully.
He leaned back slightly, but the intensity didn't lessen. "I asked you to meet today… because I wanted to see if you were still… affected."
Why did the way he said "affected" feel too warm?
Too dangerous?
Her voice wavered. "Why would my mood matter to you, Chairman?"
His lips curved — not into a smile, but into something like amusement touched with desire.
"Because some people interest me more than they should."
Her breath caught.
He continued, voice low. "And you are one of them."
She froze.
He said it so plainly, as if confessing something simple — like saying he preferred tea over coffee.
But nothing about him was simple.
"Chairman Min-Jae…" she whispered.
"You don't need to answer," he said gently. "Not now."
She exhaled shakily.
He stood again, walking behind her chair, stopping inches from her. She felt the warmth of his presence even without touching.
"I have a function tonight," he said. "A private gathering among the Board. I want you there."
Her stomach dropped. "Me?"
"Yes." His tone softened in a way that terrified her more than anger. "By my side."
Her blood turned cold.
The implications…
The whispers…
Her father's victory…
Everything twisted together.
"I—I don't know if—" she stammered.
He leaned down slightly, his breath brushing her ear. "It wasn't a request."
Her skin prickled.
Her heart raced.
This was dangerous.
Too dangerous.
But she could not refuse.
When she stepped out of his office, she was still shaking.
The elevator doors began to close — and someone stopped them with a hand.
Junho.
He slid inside, jaw clenched, expression unreadable.
"Lyla," he said quietly.
Her chest tightened.
The elevator began to move.
"What did my father want?" he asked, trying to sound casual — but failing.
She looked away. "Nothing important."
"Don't lie to me," he said, voice firm.
Their eyes met and the elevator suddenly felt too small.
"He invited me to a gathering," she admitted.
Junho's jaw tightened. "Of course he did."
The bitterness in his voice cut deep.
"It's just business," she whispered.
"Business?" His laugh was sharp. "My father doesn't 'invite' people for business. He brings people he wants to claim."
Her heart slammed painfully.
"That's not—"
He stepped closer. "Is he forcing you?"
Her lips trembled.
"No."
"Is my father threatening you?"
"No."
"Is someone else?"
She froze.
Junho's eyes sharpened instantly.
"Lyla," he breathed, "tell me the truth. Someone is threatening you."
Her throat locked. "I can't."
He stepped even closer.
"Look at me."
She did.And everything inside her cracked.
"I'm here," he whispered. "If you're scared, tell me. If you're in danger, tell me. If my father is—"
"It's not him!" she said too quickly.
He paused.
Then something shifted in his expression — realization, fear, anger, helplessness.
"Then who?" he demanded.
She shook her head.
"I can't tell you."
The elevator stopped.
The doors opened.
He didn't move.
He just stared at her, breathing hard, heart in his eyes.
"Lyla," he said softly, "please don't go to that event with him."
Her pulse throbbed painfully.
"I have to."
He closed his eyes, jaw tightening so hard it looked painful.
When he opened them again, there was something new in his gaze — something devastating.
"Then I'll be there too," he whispered.
She trembled. "Junho…"
"I'm not letting you stand alone beside my father," he said. "Not again."
She stepped out of the elevator.
He didn't follow.
But he did say one last thing — a promise, not a threat.
"I'm going to protect you, whether you want me to or not."
Her father sent a dress.
Of course he did.
A shimmering silver gown — backless, sleeveless, elegant and seductive. A dress meant to draw eyes, especially the Chairman's.
Her hands trembled as she put it on.
She didn't want to go.
But she couldn't refuse.
Not without consequences she couldn't survive.
Her taxi dropped her at the hotel where the event was held — one of the most exclusive penthouse lounges in Gangnam.
Cameras flashed.
Drivers opened doors.
Men in black suits escorted VIPs inside.
She felt sick.
She stepped out.
And the world seemed to slow.
Chairman Min-Jae arrived at the same moment, stepping out of his limousine, adjusting his cufflinks with calm elegance.
Then he looked up.
And saw her.
His eyes froze.
Then darkened.
Slowly.
Deeply.
Meaningfully.
He walked toward her, each step deliberate, eyes locked on her as though nothing else existed.
When he reached her, he offered his arm.
"Lyla," he said in a low tone that sent a shiver across her skin, "you look… breathtaking."
She swallowed hard.
"Thank you, Chairman."
"Tonight," he murmured, "you don't have to call me Chairman."
Her breath caught. "Then what should I—"
"Min-Jae," he said gently. "Just Min-Jae."
Her heart twisted painfully.
She placed her hand on his arm.
And they walked inside.
The lounge was filled with powerful men and elegant women. Conversations stopped as they entered. Eyes followed them. Whispers formed instantly.
"Is that—"
"With the Chairman?"
"She's beautiful…"
"Is she… with him?"
Min-Jae ignored everyone.
But everyone watched him.
And her.
He guided her to his private table, poured her a drink himself — something he never did for anyone.
"You don't have to be nervous," he said softly.
She forced a smile. "I'm fine."
"No," he said. "You're trembling."
Her breath hitched as he took her hand under the table — discreet, gentle, warm.
"Min-Jae…" she whispered.
His thumb brushed her skin. "Relax. Just stay beside me tonight."
She shook.
Not from fear — but from the confusing warmth spreading through her chest.
Suddenly—
"Father."
Her blood froze.
Min-Jae straightened subtly.
Lyla turned…
And saw him.
Junho.
Walking toward them.
Eyes on her.
Expression unreadable.
But fire burned behind it.
Min-Jae's hand tightened slightly under the table.
Junho stopped right beside them.
"Good evening," he said coolly. "I didn't know you would be bringing a date tonight."
Min-Jae smiled — polite, elegant, dangerous. "It wasn't decided until this afternoon."
Junho's gaze flicked to Lyla.
"You look beautiful," he said softly.
She inhaled sharply.
Min-Jae's jaw flexed.
The air grew electric.
Junho leaned closer to her side of the table. "May I borrow her for a moment?"
Min-Jae answered before she could.
"No."
The tension knifed through the air.
Junho smiled — slow, sharp, challenging.
"Father," he said quietly, "you can't forbid everything."
Min-Jae's voice dropped. "I can forbid anything that concerns my guest."
Junho's eyes darkened.
"She's not your guest," he said. "She's someone you're trying to own."
The entire table went silent.
Min-Jae stood slowly, eyes narrowing. "Be careful, Junho."
"Or what?" Junho whispered.
Both men were seconds away from exploding.
"Stop," Lyla said suddenly, standing up.
Both turned to her.
"I'll step out for air," she whispered. "You two… please… don't fight here."
Junho softened instantly. "Lyla—"
Min-Jae's voice lowered. "I'll join you shortly."
"No," she said quickly. "I'm okay by myself."
She walked out before either could stop her.
Her heart hammered as she stepped onto the balcony.
Cool air hit her.
She gripped the railing, trying to steady her breathing.
She was losing control.
Of herself.
Of them.
Of everything.
The door slid open behind her.
Footsteps.
She turned—
Expecting Junho.
Or Min-Jae.
Instead—
She saw someone else.
A tall young man.
Elegant.
Sharp-eyed.
Impossibly handsome.
And smiling faintly, like he knew her already.
"Ah," he said softly, extending a hand. "So you're the the girl making my father and brother lose their minds."
She froze.
He bowed slightly.
"I'm Min-Joon," he said.
The young master.
"And from tonight onward, Lyla… I think you and I will be very, very involved."