Rain fell in steady sheets over Seoul, blurring the city lights into a kaleidoscope of gold and red. The streets gleamed, but inside the towering glass walls of Han Corporation, the storm outside felt tame compared to the one brewing in Han Soo-min's heart.
She adjusted her oversized glasses and tugged at the cheap blazer she'd borrowed for her disguise. Intern. That was her cover. Nobody could know she was the missing heir of the very empire she now walked into.
"Name?" the receptionist asked, barely glancing up from her monitor.
Soo-min's voice trembled slightly. "Lena… Lena Han."
The receptionist typed something, then looked back at her screen, indifferent. Perfect.
Soo-min took a deep breath and stepped into the lobby. The polished marble floors reflected her carefully neutral expression. She had practiced this walk a hundred times in front of the mirror: confident, yet unassuming. Invisible.
Yet, as she turned the corner toward the elevators, time seemed to stutter.
There he was.
Tall, sharp, impossibly perfect. Kang Min-ho. Her high school crush, the boy who had once made her heart race with a single glance, now standing in military uniform, scanning the lobby with precise, professional eyes.
Her chest tightened. Don't look, don't look, she repeated in her mind. But her feet betrayed her. They slowed, her eyes locked on his, and for a split second, memories rushed back: cherry blossoms falling in the school courtyard, whispered notes passed across desks, stolen smiles in crowded hallways.
And then his eyes met hers.
A spark of recognition—or was it just curiosity? He tilted his head, studying her with that unnervingly perceptive gaze.
"Have we… met before?" he asked. His voice was calm, but there was an edge that made her pulse hammer.
Soo-min forced a smile, lowering her eyes. "No, sir. I'm just an intern," she whispered, voice barely audible.
But inside, panic fluttered like trapped birds. Not now. Not today. My cover can't blow now.
She moved toward the elevator, hands shaking slightly, and pressed the button. Behind her, the receptionist hummed softly, oblivious.
As the elevator doors slid open, she glanced back one last time. Min-ho's gaze hadn't left her. There was something in his expression—like a memory surfacing from the depths of his mind.
Her heart skipped. How long before he remembers? How long before everything I've hidden comes crashing down?
The doors closed. Rain poured harder outside. Soo-min swallowed hard, straightened her shoulders, and whispered to herself:
One step at a time. Just one step at a time.
Her undercover mission had begun.