One Year Later.
The Kims' crystal tower in Seoul is no longer a despot's mausoleum. It's a hive of activity, where Roori, in an impeccable suit, manages the fortunes of an empire that has ceased to be a weapon.
She has become the face of change, the CEO who has cleared the family name.
On the board of directors, Seo-Yun and the twins sit composed, held in line by lawyer Jung, who from being their grandfather's "right-hand man" has become the legal guarantor of the new corporate ethics.
Their grandfather is just a faded memory, a name erased from the rolls of honor.
But thousands of miles away, in a city unfamiliar with high-sounding surnames, there's a small place that smells of roasted coffee and rain, of aromatic tobacco and whiskey.
Ava is behind the counter, wearing comfortable shoes and a worn apron.
Her life is made up of sleepless nights, encrypted files, and impossible cases she solves as an undercover lawyer for the voiceless.
She's free, but it's a freedom earned with blood.
The doorbell rings.
It's almost closing time.
Ava doesn't look up, busy polishing a glass.
"We're done for today," she says, her voice steady.
"I'm not here to drink," replies a deep, male voice, which makes her blood run cold and her heart burn at the same time.
Ava raises her head.
Min-Jun is there, in the doorway. He's wearing a light jacket, with the look of someone who has traveled extensively and finally found a place to settle down.
He no longer has the look of the "shaped son," nor that of the tormented researcher. He has the look of a man who has chosen his destiny.
Ava puts down her glass.
Her hands are shaking, but it's no longer from anger.
"Min-Jun? What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were in London, with your research projects."
"I've closed the projects," he replies, approaching the counter.
He stops a few inches away from her, that living space that for years was a battlefield and now seems merely a threshold to cross. "And I let Jung handle everything else. The truth is, I couldn't concentrate on anything, knowing you were here fixing the world alone."
Ava tries to maintain her mask of cynicism, but a smile curls her lips, a crack in her impenetrable shell.
"You still feel guilty, then?"
"I feel indebted," he smiles, tilting his head. "It's well past midnight. The ghosts are buried. And I remember well that, in that villa, you promised me that if we survived, we'd talk about the rest."
Ava takes off her apron, places it on the counter, and approaches him. Min-Jun's eyes never leave his, filled with a promise that needs no contracts or lawyers.
"You're a little late, Kim Min-Jun," she whispers, almost touching his chest.
"I'm used to racing against time," he replies, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. "So, where were we? You still owe me a date, I think."
Ava bursts into a real, clear laugh, like she hasn't had in a lifetime. She takes the keys to the place and closes the shutter behind them, shutting out the noise of the world.
"He owes you a date, yes," she replies, taking his hand. "But I swear, if you try to take me to a place with hidden cameras, I'll lock you in a room with Attorney Jung for the rest of your life."
Min-Jun laughs and holds her close, finally with no more secrets between them.
Outside, the city sparkles with lights that have nothing to do with the Kims' mansion. Finally, they're just two souls reunited.