The Seo mansion was unusually still when Yeon-hwa stepped out of her room, hair pinned, coat draped over her arm. Tonight was the annual Haneul Finance corporate reception — a small VIP gathering restricted to the top executives and heirs of major chaebol families.
She had not intended to attend.
But after the legal meeting that morning, Attorney Han had advised her gently:
"You should show your face. Even quietly. Presence is half of power."
She had nodded.
Now, dressed in a soft ivory satin blouse and tailored black slacks, she looked less like a villainess and more like a rising young businesswoman. Calm. Controlled. Magnetically feminine, in that quiet, effortless way the system had taught her.
The driver opened the door for her.
"Miss Seo. We will arrive in twenty minutes."
She nodded, sliding into the backseat.
Her warm vanilla aura lingered faintly tonight — softer than usual, a warm whisper against the skin. Her Sex Appeal Level 1 had settled overnight, weaving smoothly into her natural presence.
But tonight, it would be tested in a way she didn't expect.
---
The VIP lounge was on the top floor of the Haneul Building — dim, atmospheric, all velvet and gold. Soft jazz played in the background, accompanied by some distant laughter. A chandelier glowed above the room like a warm moon.
Her entrance was quiet.
Heads turned anyway.
"She's different."
"That's the Seo daughter?"
"She looks… elegant."
"Isn't she the one who—"
"No, she looks too calm for that."
Her warm vanilla aura drifted subtly into the air, blending with the candle scents. She walked with slow, fluid steps, posture perfect, voice soft as she greeted a few executives lightly.
She kept to the margins, staying polite, distant, controlled.
A server approached her.
"Miss, would you like something non-alcoholic?"
"Yes. Thank you."
She accepted the drink, not noticing the jealous eyes following her from across the room: a young woman with glossy cherry lips and a silk red dress — the daughter of a director who had always envied her status.
The woman murmured something to a passing server. A small vial glittered between her fingers. Her lips curled.
One drop.
Harmless, but embarrassing.
Meant to make Yeon-hwa lose composure.
The server returned with her drink.
She thanked him — softly, politely — and lifted it to her lips.
The first sip tasted normal.
The second burned warm.
By the third, she paused.
Her skin heated suddenly.
A slow, rising warmth pooled low in her stomach.
Her breath wavered.
Her pulse quickened.
What…?
The system reacted instantly.
[Warning: Foreign substance detected]
[Aura modules destabilizing]
[Sex Appeal Level 1 — Overload risk]
She set the glass down abruptly.
Her hands trembled — only slightly — but she hid them behind her coat.
The room suddenly felt too warm.
Too bright.
Too close.
Her skin tingled beneath her clothes — a soft, unbearable sensation that wasn't pain but wasn't comfortable either. Her warm vanilla aura intensified without permission, thickening in the air until a few heads turned instinctively toward her.
No.
Not here.
She forced herself to breathe.
In.
Out.
Stay composed.
She stood abruptly from her table and moved toward the exit. Each step felt heavier, her body too aware, too warm, too—
She reached the hallway outside the lounge, pressing her hand against the cool wall. Her breath hitched.
Aphrodisiac.
Someone had slipped something mild — not harmful, but enough to twist her senses. Enough to make her aura flare uncontrollably.
Her movements slowed.
Her skin burned.
She swallowed hard, pressing her back against the wall.
"Steady," she whispered to herself.
She had survived death, transmigration, betrayal.
She would not lose to a stupid substance meant for humiliation.
She pushed off the wall, intending to reach the restroom — anywhere quiet — but her knees softened at the wrong moment.
And a hand caught her wrist.
Strong, warm, precise.
She froze.
Her heart thudded once — loud.
She turned her head.
And met the eyes of Kang Do-yoon.
---
He looked at her with unreadable intensity. The dim hallway lighting caught along his jawline, the sharp angles of his suit, the dark focus in his expression.
But his eyes —
they were pinned entirely on her.
"Miss Seo," he said quietly. "You're flushed."
She inhaled, unsteady.
"I'm fine."
"Your pupils are dilated."
"I said I'm fine."
"Your scent is stronger."
His voice dropped lower.
"Much stronger."
Her breath trembled.
He stepped closer, slowly, very slowly — like approaching a trembling bird.
"Did someone touch your drink?"
She didn't answer.
Her silence was enough.
Something cold and lethal flickered in his eyes. His jaw clenched.
"Who?"
She shook her head weakly. "Not… here."
He exhaled slowly — not angry at her, but trying to control the sudden tension in his body.
"Come with me."
"I don't—"
"You can barely stand."
She hated how true it felt.
Her legs trembled again, heat curling beneath her skin.
He didn't wait for her permission — not out of dominance, but because her knees gave out a second time.
He caught her by the waist.
Her breath stilled.
Her body burned.
The warm vanilla aura around her intensified — mixing with her rising skin temperature until the entire corridor felt like it was pulsing with tension.
His eyes darkened.
"Whoever did this," he murmured, voice low, "will regret it."
She shook her head again. "No. I just need… air."
But her steps were unstable. The effects weren't dangerous — but overwhelming.
He pressed a hand to her back.
She shivered unintentionally.
"Do-yoon," she whispered — the first time she had ever said his name directly.
His eyes flashed.
Her voice was softer, lower, breathier — her Sex Appeal module reacting uncontrollably. He smelled the warm vanilla aura more strongly now — a scent that was not perfume, but skin, heat, something dangerously natural.
His composure slipped — only a fraction.
"This is not the place," he said tightly. "Let's get you somewhere safe."
She nodded weakly.
He guided her toward the quieter executive lounge at the end of the hall — a private room, dimly lit, furnished with soft leather seating and a velvet curtain partially drawn.
The moment the door clicked shut behind them, the air shifted.
Warm.
Thick.
Charged.
She pressed a hand to the table for balance, head bowed.
The aphrodisiac's effects surged again — a wave of heat rippling under her skin. She gripped the edge of the table, steadying herself.
He stood in front of her, breathing deeply, fighting for control.
"You're burning up," he said, voice low.
"I'm fine," she whispered again, though her voice trembled.
He exhaled sharply. "Don't lie. Anyone can see—"
She straightened abruptly, forcing her spine straight.
"I am not falling apart."
She was strong.
Always strong.
Even now, with heat flooding her body, she stood proud, elegant, distant.
Her defiance hit him harder than her scent.
He stepped closer.
Her breath caught.
Her warm vanilla aura clung to him like a whisper.
He swallowed.
Something was wrong.
Something was too right.
"You shouldn't be near me right now," she said softly.
"And yet," he murmured, "you came running into me."
Their breaths mingled.
Her pupils were wide, shimmering.
Her lips parted on a quiet inhale.
Her voice trembled when she whispered:
"Do-yoon…"
That snapped something inside him.
It wasn't the aphrodisiac.
It wasn't her beauty.
It wasn't her aura.
It was the way she said his name — soft, breathy, destroyed.
Everything after that happened quietly, inevitably — a heat that neither of them could fight.
And then?
His lips brushed hers first.