Sunoo woke before dawn, lying in bed with his eyes fixed on the ceiling. He hadn't slept much, and the few hours he managed were filled with restless thoughts. He kept replaying every word he'd exchanged with Kang Sunghoon, wondering if he'd somehow given himself away.
He pushed the thought aside as he dressed in a plain white shirt and dark pants—simple enough not to stand out, neat enough not to be questioned. Before leaving, he checked his bag three times to make sure he had everything. If he slipped up today, it would only get harder to stay hidden.
When he arrived at work, the front desk assistant greeted him with a polite nod, and he forced himself to smile back. The elevator felt too small as it carried him to the upper floors. He tried to focus on the day ahead instead of the unease curling in his chest.
His desk was already set up with a stack of files and a printed schedule. The first thing he noticed was the red mark across one report—a correction in Sunghoon's own handwriting. His stomach tightened. He had worked hours on that draft, but apparently it still hadn't been enough.
"Early I see~," a voice said behind him.
Sunoo turned to see Sunghoon standing there, holding a cup of coffee. Unlike yesterday, there was a trace of curiosity in his expression.
"Good morning , Director. I thought it was better to get ahead," Sunoo said, keeping his tone light.
"Or you're worried you'll disappoint me again." Sunghoon set the coffee on the desk without asking if Sunoo wanted it. His gaze flicked to the marked report. "You missed a few details. You need to pay more attention."
"I will, Sir," Sunoo said quickly. His hands were already a little shaky, but he tried not to show it.
Sunghoon studied him for a moment longer, then leaned one hand on the edge of the desk. "Tell me something. Why did you really take this job?"
Sunoo felt his chest go tight. The truth hovered just beneath the surface—I'm here to ruin you—but he couldn't let it slip. He forced a small smile. "It seemed like an opportunity to learn and to prove myself."
"That's what everyone says," Sunghoon replied, though there was no real accusation in his voice. More like he was thinking out loud. "You look nervous."
Sunoo's throat was dry. "It's just my second day that's why."
"Fair enough." Sunghoon straightened and picked up the marked report. "Fix this by lunch. I'll be in meetings, but if you have questions, you can come find me."
He turned and walked away without waiting for a reply. Sunoo felt his shoulders drop the moment he was gone. He reached for the coffee, hoping it would steady him, but his hands were still unsteady.
He sat down and began reviewing the report line by line. Every few minutes, his thoughts slipped away from the numbers and back to Sunghoon's face, the way his voice softened just enough to sound almost kind. It was the worst possible distraction. He wasn't supposed to feel anything here—not curiosity, not guilt, and definitely not fascination.
By late morning, Sunoo had rewritten the document twice. When he finally gathered the corrected pages, he tried to convince himself it was just another task, nothing more. But as he carried the file toward Sunghoon's office, a nagging doubt settled in his chest. If he kept spending time alone with him, how long could he pretend he felt nothing?
He knocked once and heard Sunghoon call for him to enter. The office looked the same as before—tidy, plain, no signs of personal life. Sunghoon was sitting behind the desk, reading something on his laptop. He glanced up when Sunoo stepped inside.
"Finished already?" he asked.
"Yes," Sunoo said, placing the papers in front of him. "I went over everything twice."
Sunghoon flipped through the pages without speaking. His eyes moved quickly, and Sunoo watched him, searching for any sign of approval or irritation.
At last, Sunghoon looked up. "Manageable ," he said simply.
A strange relief went through Sunoo. He tried to hide it by focusing on the floor.
"Sit," Sunghoon said, nodding at the chair across from him, Sunoo initially hesitated but obeyed.
"There's a dinner tonight with a potential partner," Sunghoon said. "You'll be joining me. It's not a request."
Sunoo looked up, startled. "I—of course. If that's what you want."
Sunghoon studied him with that unreadable expression. "You're not here just to watch from a distance, Mr. Lee. You're going to learn how these relationships work. And you're going to learn how quickly everything can fall apart if you're careless."
Sunoo swallowed hard. The words felt heavier than they should have.
"I understand."
"Good." Sunghoon closed the folder and leaned back in his chair. "One more thing—don't try so hard to please everyone. It makes you look weak."
Sunoo felt heat rise to his face, but he forced himself to nod. "I'll remember that."
Sunghoon didn't say anything else. The silence stretched on, almost uncomfortable, before Sunoo stood to leave. He paused at the doorway, wondering if he should say something more. But nothing came.
When he finally stepped back into the hall, his heart was beating so fast it made his head spin. He had thought he could handle this—pretend to be just another ambitious employee until he'd done what he came to do.
But with every passing day, he was starting to wonder if the real danger wasn't that Sunghoon might find out the truth.
It was that he might not want to leave, even when he finally could.
.
.
.
.
Sunoo barely had time to catch his breath before the day slipped away. He worked straight through the afternoon, preparing the briefing Sunghoon had asked for and trying not to think about what dinner would be like. By the time the sun started to sink behind the city skyline, his nerves were stretched tight.
At six sharp, Sunghoon appeared by his desk. He wasn't wearing a suit jacket anymore, only a crisp shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms. Somehow, that made him look more dangerous, not less.
"Ready to leave?" he asked.
Sunoo rose, smoothing his shirt even though it didn't need it. "Yes."
Sunghoon watched him, as if searching for something in his expression, then turned without a word and led the way out. They rode down in the elevator in silence, standing so close Sunoo could feel the warmth radiating off him. He tried not to notice. He failed.
The restaurant was tucked away on the second floor of an old building. Soft golden lights glowed in the windows. Inside, it was all warm wood and quiet music, the kind of place that pretended to be casual but cost more than Sunoo made in a month.
A middle-aged man with a smug smile stood to greet them at the table. He shook Sunghoon's hand first, then turned to Sunoo. "You must be his new assistant huh!?."
Sunoo managed a polite nod. "I'm Lee Sunoo. Thank you for having me."
"Mr. Park," Sunghoon said smoothly, "I trust the documents were in order."
"For the most part," Mr. Park replied, though his tone suggested there was something he didn't want to say outright. He glanced at Sunoo, then back to Sunghoon. "Perhaps we should discuss a few details privately."
Sunghoon didn't look away from him. "Anything you can say to me, you can say in front of him."
Sunoo's pulse kicked up. He sat down slowly, trying not to show how out of place he felt.
Mr. Park hesitated, then sighed. "There have been concerns among my partners about S. K Group's level of control in the contract. Some of us are worried it leaves too little room for negotiation."
Sunghoon smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "And what exactly do you expect me to do about that?"
"A few concessions," Mr. Park said carefully. "Nothing unreasonable."
There was a long pause. Sunoo felt the tension gathering between them like a storm.
"Mr. Park," Sunghoon said quietly, "if your partners don't trust me to honor my agreements, there's no point in continuing this conversation."
"Let's not be hasty," Mr. Park said quickly. "It's simply a matter of transparency."
Sunghoon leaned back, one arm resting on the chair. "Then perhaps you'd prefer to take your business elsewhere."
The table fell silent. Sunoo stared at the linen napkin in his lap, willing himself to stay calm. He'd never seen anyone wield so much pressure with so little effort.
Mr. Park cleared his throat. "That's not necessary," he said finally. "We only wanted clarity."
"Clarity," Sunghoon repeated, voice soft. "You'll have it in writing by morning." He shifted his gaze to Sunoo. "Make a note of that."
Sunoo nodded, scribbling quickly, though his hand was trembling. When he looked up again, Mr. Park was watching him with a kind of wary curiosity.
The rest of dinner passed in uneasy conversation. Sunoo kept his head down, taking notes and pretending he didn't feel like he was sitting on the edge of something he didn't understand. Every so often, Sunghoon's gaze would land on him, steady and unreadable, and Sunoo would feel a heat rise in his chest he couldn't explain.
Few minutes later, he sat up carefully on his seat, but the moment he touched the chair he felt every eye flick toward him. The dinner table was far too long, the tablecloth a glaring reminder that he didn't belong. He'd barely settled before Mr. Park lifted his glass and gave a thin smile that didn't touch his eyes.
"Wine," Mr. Park said, as though Sunoo were just part of the staff.
"Yes, sir," Sunoo murmured, reaching for the bottle in the ice bucket. His hand trembled, and he tried to steady it by gripping the neck tighter.
The bottle slipped the instant he started to pour. Red wine splashed across Mr. Park's pristine shirt and trailed down his jacket. The sound of liquid hitting fabric was loud in the shocked hush.
Sunoo's throat closed up. He grabbed a napkin, heart slamming. "I—I'm so sorry, let me—"
"Don't touch me,you stupid thing!," Mr. Park snapped, his face tightening in disgust. He brushed Sunoo's hand away with a sharp flick. "Do you even know what this jacket costs?"
"I didn't—It was an accident—"
"I asked you to do the simplest thing, and you can't even—" Mr. Park began, his voice rising.
"That's enough," Sunghoon cut in, but his tone was no calmer. His expression was a mask of fury he wasn't bothering to hide. "I said Mr. Lee. Sit down."
Sunoo swallowed, frozen, but Mr. Park wasn't finished. "No wonder your company's reputation is in question if this is the sort of assistant you hire," he said coldly to Sunghoon. "So clumsy, stupid and ignorant."
Sunghoon's gaze snapped to him. "I said that's enough, don't yell at my employee like that for a cheap suit. I brought him here to familiarize him with everything not for her m to be your personal butler, get that into your thick skull !"
Mr. Park raised an eyebrow as if daring him to argue, but he finally reached for a fresh napkin and began dabbing at the stain himself.
Sunghoon turned back to Sunoo. His eyes were blazing, his jaw clenched so tight a muscle ticked near his temple. "And you, what in God's name were you thinking?" he hissed in a low voice that carried far too clearly. "You can't even pour a glass of wine without making a spectacle of yourself?"
"I— I'm sorry—" Sunoo stammered, wishing the floor would open and swallow him whole.
"Sorry?" Sunghoon echoed, his voice rising. Several diners at neighboring tables were openly watching. "You've just humiliated this company in front of one of its most important investors. Do you understand the position you've put me in?"
Sunoo's face burned so hot he thought he might be sick. "I didn't mean to—"
"You didn't mean to do it but still did hmm!?." Sunghoon's hands clenched into fists on the table. "Get out of here. Now."
Sunoo's breath caught. "Sir—please—"
"Out. Now." The word cracked through the quiet like a whip.
Shame scalded every inch of him as he pushed back his chair. He didn't dare meet anyone's eyes as he hurried out, aware of every silent stare following him to the door. When he finally stepped into the corridor, his vision blurred with tears he refused to let fall.
Behind him, the muffled voices continued, and he knew Mr. Park would twist the incident to his advantage. He pressed a trembling hand over his mouth, fighting the sick ache in his stomach. He had promised himself he would be invisible until it mattered—and instead, he'd just shown them all how expendable he was.
And as he leaned against the cold wall, one thought pierced through the haze of humiliation:
If Sunghoon ever discovered the real reason he was here—if he found out that Sunoo was the one sent to ruin him—it would be so much worse than this.
When Sunoo finally stumbled into his tiny apartment, the door clicked shut behind him like the final nail sealing a coffin. He didn't bother turning on the light. He kicked off his shoes, shrugged out of the suit jacket that still smelled faintly of expensive wine, and let it crumple to the floor. His legs gave out before he reached the bed, and he sank to the floor with his back pressed against the wall.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he couldn't bring himself to look. He already knew what the message would say—some cold reminder from Manager Choi to report in the morning, or worse, a summons from Sunghoon to explain himself again. He pressed his palms over his eyes until stars burst behind his eyelids.
How had he screwed up so spectacularly? It wasn't like him. He'd trained himself to be careful, to blend in so no one would ever think to look at him twice. But tonight, all he'd done was confirm that he didn't belong in that world—and worse, that he could jeopardize everything if he wasn't more careful.
His phone buzzed again, and this time he forced himself to check. A single text glared up from the screen:
Tomorrow, 8 a.m. sharp. My office. –K.S.
He squeezed the phone so hard his fingers hurt. He tried to imagine what Sunghoon would say to him—how he would look at him, disgust etched into every line of his face—and bile rose in his throat.
He should have known better than to think he could play this game. He was the boy from a run-down neighborhood who'd learned to smile and bow and hide his resentment, not the professional they all expected him to be. And yet, he had no choice but to keep going. No matter how much it cost.
A breeze lifted the thin curtain over the window, carrying in the muted sounds of Seoul at midnight—traffic crawling past, distant music pulsing from a bar. He wondered if Sunghoon was still at that restaurant,still listening to Mr. Park's nonsense
Somewhere deep in his chest, a dark, unhelpful thought whispered: If he hates you already, what's stopping you from finishing what you came here to do?
He clenched his jaw, forcing the thought down. He should think like that afterall he was here to seduce and he'd do exactly just that.
Slowly, he pushed himself off the floor and undressed in the half-dark. He folded the ruined shirt with trembling hands. When he finally lay down, the sheets felt cold against his feverish skin. He closed his eyes, but all he could see was Sunghoon's expression as he'd ordered him out—disgust and disappointment in equal measure.
And as exhaustion finally dragged him under, one promise burned through the numbness:
He wouldn't give them another reason to look down on him. If he had to swallow his pride, play the part, and watch his own heart rot out of his chest—he would.
Because in the end, this wasn't just about deceit . It was about proving to them—and to himself—that he was more than the boy everyone had already written off.
TO BE CONTINUED.....