That night.
Returning from the charity gala at the Beverly House, the two of them stepped into the front entrance as if nothing had happened.
"You're back."
Jinwoo asked, his voice casual as he sat on the couch.
Daniel looked up, quietly placing his phone down.
Noah gave a brief nod.
Celeste slipped off her heels, holding them in one hand, and without a word, turned toward the stairs.
"I'm exhausted. I'm going to bed."
The words were plain, but her voice was sandpaper—dry, worn, unraveling at the edges.
"Me too,"
Noah said simply, tossing the words into the air before heading toward the guest room on the first floor.
Silence followed—not peace, but something more hollow.
A silence that pressed down like mist, heavy and strange.
"…Did they fight?"
Georges whispered, casting a glance at Marcel.
Marcel tilted his head, shrugging slightly.
Daniel remained in the living room, swallowing hard.
He stared at his phone as if checking something, though the screen had gone dark long ago.
Jinwoo lifted his iced tea to his lips, but his throat only felt drier.
Their eyes met—just for a moment.
Then both looked away.
Worry passed like a shadow.
One gaze held quiet desperation.
The other, a promise not to ask.
That night, the Malibu villa fell into sleep, lips sealed, hearts shut.
As if nothing had happened.
No one asked.
No one answered.
The next morning.
Malibu's final sunlight stretched long and warm across the front porch, like a lingering goodbye.
Georges and Marcel stood together, arms around Celeste.
Her scent, though familiar, carried something subtly changed—something heavier, sadder.
"It was such a short trip…but it feels like you've all returned from a war,"
Georges said softly, fingers brushing her hair.
Marcel laughed, then pressed a light kiss to her forehead.
"Next time, come with nothing on the agenda. No business. Promise."
"…I'll try,"
Celeste replied, smiling faintly as she shrugged—but behind her eyes, fatigue and longing lingered like smoke.
"She's my daughter, but truly—incorrigible,"
Marcel sighed, clicking his tongue.
Georges only shook his head.
Jinwoo, Noah, and Daniel embraced the two fathers in turn.
The hugs were brief, but something in them lasted.
And then—Korea.
Three days and two nights in California—brief as a breath, heavy as a lifetime.
So fleeting, and yet somehow, eternal.
As if time there had folded in on itself.
As if memories were sealed away, just beneath the skin of routine.
Life resumed.
Quietly, mechanically.
Time moved forward, unfeeling.
And people let themselves be pulled along, swallowed whole by its indifference.
Seoul was loud. Restless.
And the season had changed.
With the London Global Audition just weeks away, the entertainment office had become a vortex once more.
Audition tapes piled high. Filming schedules.
Contract reviews. Follow-up interviews.
Marketing plans. PR drafts.
The calendar sliced her days into pieces.
Time became an enemy with too many faces.
Even the air outside had shifted.
The suffocating heat of late summer had vanished.
In its place, the clarity of early autumn—
A breeze like clean glass slipping through alleyways.
Street trees were losing their green.
People walked faster now, trading linen shirts for wool coats and cashmere.
Cafes smelled of cinnamon and clove.
Billboards hinted at winter, down jackets in silhouette against gray skies.
And on one such crisp morning, as Ceres stepped into the kitchen to brew coffee—
The front door slammed open.
"Celeste! You need to see this—it's blowing up. Right now."
Daniel's voice—breathless, sharp.
He had sprinted, tablet clutched in one hand, his face pale, urgent.
Celeste turned, startled.
Her gaze dropped to the screen.
Dozens of headlines lit it up like wildfire.
And just then—her phone vibrated.
A hidden number. No caller ID. Just message:
[Anonymous Sender]
"Miss me, darling? That was just a taste."
"End it now. Or the next one won't be so gentle."
She drew in a sharp breath—then, without hesitation, hurled the phone across the sofa.
The dull thud came after the sound of her breath—a ragged exhale that ripped straight from her chest.
"This son of a bitch…"
Daniel stared at her, stunned.
In all the years he'd known her, he had never once heard those words from her lips.
"…Who is it?"
he asked quietly.
She didn't answer.
"Even now—when it's come to this—you're still going to keep me in the dark?"
She closed her eyes.
Collected herself.
And when she spoke again, her voice was steel.
"After work. Gather everyone. All of them."
Daniel nodded, the weight of her words pressing down on his shoulders.
Meanwhile, at that exact moment, the Langley entertainment office was chaos incarnate.
Fax. Email. Call. DM.
Tips pouring in from YouTube and everywhere else.
Every message revolved around one name.
[EXCLUSIVE] Celeste Langley in Secret Romance with Actor Jinwoo Joo?
[PHOTO] "That Look in His Eyes…" Celeste Langley & Jinwoo Joo.
The staff were ghost-white.
The crisis team had already split into three squads, managing press, speculation, and internal damage control.
Outside, the autumn breeze was calm.
Even soothing.
But inside—not even the word "calm" could survive.
From that morning on, everything began to unravel.