The road narrowed long before the villa appeared.
Tall hedges swallowed the view, and iron gates opened only after the car slowed, cameras already scanning the license plate. Beyond it, the estate stretched in deliberate silence, gravel paths, cypress trees trimmed like sentinels, stone warmed by years of sun.
Ga-young stepped out first.
The air smelled faintly of earth and water, something old and carefully maintained.
Ahead, the villa loomed pale and imposing. Windows dark, doors open, staff moving in near-perfect choreography across the grounds, black uniforms, clipped headsets glinting under the fading sunlight. Temporary structures rose where gardens once breathed freely, metal frames draped with fabric, lighting rigs suspended like constellations waiting to shine.
It almost felt like there was nothing left, it already looked like a stage.
"This used to be private?" Ga-young murmured, scanning the grounds.
"It still is," Min-jae replied, voice calm behind her. "Just not for its owners."
She glanced at him. He was already in work mode, coat buttoned, expression unreadable, presence commanding.
They walked along the terrace together. A long platform stretched across the stone, the fountain and statues carefully protected, furniture removed or stored. Everything replaced by neutral perfection, temporary and flawless.
"How far along are we?" he asked.
"The main runway is finalized. Seating arrives this afternoon. Security doubled after last night. Insurance cleared this morning," The event planner replied easily.
He nodded.
"Sir, can I speak with you in private for a moment?" the event planner asked politely.
"Sure," Min-jae said, gesturing. They moved forward.
Ga-young paused mid-villa, eyes caught by the Vatican-inspired paintings lining the walls. It felt less like a venue and more like an extravagant museum. For a moment, she forgot the preparations, the runway, the schedule. Her fingers itched to trace the frame.
When—
From the grand staircase behind her, a medium-sized marble urn tumbled down, heavy enough to hurt, spinning toward her.
Before she could react, Min-jae was there.
He lunged instinctively, shoulder first, arm out, forming a barrier between her and the falling object. The urn slammed into his arm with a loud thud, shards scattering across the marble floor.
Ga-young froze, heart hammering.
"Are you—are you okay?!" she gasped, reaching for him.
He gave a stiff smile, brushing it off. "I'm fine. You—" His gesture toward her halted her panic just slightly.
"Are you insane? What if it had injured you?!" she demanded, eyes searching for scratches.
The hall was silent, except for someone humming faintly. Her gaze shot upward.
At the top of the staircase, a young assistant bobbed along to his headphones, oblivious. His backside had nudged the urn while leaning over to adjust a hanging light.
"Hey!!" Ga-young shouted, voice sharp enough to slice through the villa's hush.
The assistant froze, he looked down, finally realizing what he had done "I—I didn't—oh god—" Sneakers squeaked as he bolted down the stairs.
Min-jae's arm throbbed, but he stayed grounded. "It's okay," he said firmly, though the pain beneath the sleeve betrayed him.
Ga-young moved closer, eyes blazing. "Are you really okay?" she demanded, inspecting his arm.
He nodded, teeth clenched. "It's nothing."
"You're hurt aren't you" She exhaled sharply "let's go to the hospital" she said and took the keys from the driver. Her eyes flicked to the assistant, full of silent venom, before stepping toward the car with Min-jae at her side. At that moment, even he couldn't stop her.
---
An hour later, they were in the hospital. Ga-young spoke with the doctor while Min-jae's arm rested in a soft brace, subtly snug around his forearm. The doctor nodded politely, excusing himself, leaving them alone.
Ga-young folded her arms, giving him a glare that was sharp, motherly, and unyielding
"Still at me? Should I have let the urn hit you? Might've been worse than this," Min-jae said, daring, eyes locked on hers.
"Hey, Hwan Min-jae! Are you even thinking?! This isn't some movie scene! You could've been seriously hurt!" she scolded, voice sharp but laced with worry.
"But I'm fine," he muttered quietly.
Ga-young exhaled, moving to sit beside him. "Do you even know how worried I was? You should have shoved me out of the way, not stood there like a statue."
"I acted instinctively," he said softly. "The doctor says it's minor, a week or two, maybe."
"Are you really fine?" she pressed, calmer now.
"I am," he admitted. Then, after a pause, a small smirk appeared. "Though I won't lie… I was more scared seeing you ready to rip that kid apart—"
"I would've," she interrupted with a nod. "How absent-minded can someone be? And who keeps an urn in a spot like that?!"
Min-jae just smiled as he watched, amused, letting her rant. Beneath the amusement, though, a warmth bubbled, protective, grateful, a quiet admiration for the lady who'd defended him.