Sunlight streamed through the tall windows of Jae Min's apartment, painting the wooden floors in golden hues.
Mira stirred on the couch, her lashes fluttering as she slowly woke. Her head ached dully, and her limbs felt strangely heavy. She blinked around the unfamiliar space the neat living room, the open plan kitchen, the city skyline beyond the window.
She sat up abruptly, heart skipping.
How did I get here??
Just then, Jae Min appeared, barefoot and casual, holding two mugs of coffee. He smiled when he saw her awake.
"Good morning, sleepyhead."
Mira rubbed her temples. "Wait… I'm so sorry. Did I do something stupid last night?"
Jae Min tilted his head, watching her closely. "What do you remember?"
She frowned. "I remember wine.... ramen.... I think I watched something on TV? And then…"
She looked up, unsure. "I didn't say or do anything weird, right?"
Jae Min smiled gentle, reassuring. "You drank wine, fell asleep mid-sentence, and snored a little."
Her eyes widened. "I did not."
"You absolutely did." He chuckled, but there was something tight in his laugh. A hesitation.
Because now he knew.
She didn't remember clinging to him. Didn't remember crying into his chest or how tightly she had held him.
It hurt more than it should have.
But he just handed her the coffee. "No damage done. You're safe."
She smiled in relief. "Thanks. For the sweatshirt. And for not letting me embarrass myself completely."
He gave her a soft look. "You could never embarrass yourself with me, Mira."
At Han Group, the day moved with tense efficiency.
Mira returned to her usual quiet pace, immersing herself in reports and avoiding any unnecessary interactions. But whispers followed her about the gala, about the dress, about Ares Han's uncharacteristically personal involvement.
By the afternoon, she was in the main conference room reviewing quarterly reports. The meeting had just ended and people began to file out, leaving her briefly alone.
Almost.
Footsteps stopped behind her.
She turned and froze.
Ares Han stood there, expression unreadable.
Without a word, he took a slow step forward.
She instinctively stepped back, only to feel the cold wall against her spine.
Too close.
He leaned in, placing one hand beside her head on the wall. His presence wrapped around her like static powerful, silent, suffocating.
Her breath caught in her throat.
"You forgot to return the dress," he said quietly.
Her eyes widened. "What?"
"The one you wore to the gala. It wasn't from the office stylist." His voice dropped lower. "It was mine."
Mira blinked, her heart stuttering. She hadn't known. She hadn't asked.
Before she could respond, the door swung open.
Jae Min.
His eyes locked instantly onto the scene the way Ares had Mira caged against the wall, her frozen expression, his brother's hovering hand.
Mira ducked her head, slipping out and walking quickly past Jae Min without a word.
Jae Min stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
"You need to stop," he said, voice calm but hard. "This isn't you."
Ares turned his gaze slowly, the temperature in the room dropping.
"You don't get to decide what I am."
"No," Jae Min said. "But I can see what you're becoming."
A long silence passed between them. Decades of history. Unspoken tension.
Then Jae Min walked out, catching up to Mira.
She didn't look back once.
But that night, when Ares sat alone in his penthouse with a drink in his hand and the city stretched out before him, one image refused to leave his mind
Mira, in his dress, smiling at someone else...
And it burned!