The morning sky over Seoul was pale and cold when the black sedan pulled up in front of the Seo mansion.
Kang Do-yoon didn't honk. Didn't announce himself. Didn't text.
He simply arrived.
Punctual. Silent. Resolute.
The driver stepped out and opened the door for him. He didn't move. His gaze stayed fixed on the mansion doors — on the woman he expected to walk out any moment.
He didn't wait long.
Seo Yeon-hwa stepped out onto the marble steps, her hair tied in a sleek low ponytail, her cream coat fitting her perfectly, her expression calm. Elegant. Unshaken.
Her warm vanilla aura drifted softly around her — controlled, refined, exactly the way she had trained it.
Do-yoon's eyes flickered.
Only once.
But it was enough.
She walked toward the car with a composed stride and offered him a small bow.
"Good morning, CEO Kang."
He didn't look away.
"Get in."
His voice was too calm — the kind of calm a man uses when he's forcing down everything else beneath it.
She slid into the seat beside him.
The door closed.
Silence filled the car.
Heavy. Dense. Electric.
The driver pulled away.
Do-yoon didn't speak for the first few minutes. His gaze stayed fixed on the window, but his attention—every drop of it—was on her.
Her posture. Her breathing. Her steady hands.
Finally, he broke the silence.
"You look composed."
"I am."
"Not nervous?"
"No."
He leaned back slightly, eyes still on her.
"Good."
She raised an eyebrow faintly.
"That surprises you?"
"No."
A small pause.
"It impresses me."
Her pulse skipped.
She turned her gaze back to the road.
Do-yoon didn't push the conversation further.
But the weight of his presence filled the car like a second temperature.
Cold.
Intent.
Unmoving.
But underneath—
Heat.
---
Seo Hwa Group Headquarters
The car pulled up in front of the towering glass building. Reporters were gathered outside — not chaotic, but alert. They were waiting for news about the chairman.
Camera flashes clicked as soon as the door opened.
"Miss Seo! Over here!"
"How is the chairman's condition?"
"Are you attending the emergency board meeting?"
"Who is that beside you—?"
The moment Do-yoon stepped out, silence cut through the crowd like a blade.
Everyone stepped back.
Everyone.
He didn't speak.
He didn't look at them.
He opened her door.
She stepped out gracefully.
And the entire atmosphere shifted.
She wasn't the foolish villainess anymore.
Not the pretty daughter.
Not the disposable heiress.
She was someone the CEO of Kang Group personally escorted into the building.
She walked through the lobby with Do-yoon beside her. Whispers rose behind them like wind against marble.
"Is the heir back?"
"She's different…"
"She looks… confident."
"Kang Do-yoon walked beside her?"
"That can't be a coincidence—"
Yeon-hwa kept her eyes forward.
Aura steady.
Gaze calm.
Posture perfect.
When they entered the executive floor, every employee stood and bowed.
Every single one.
"Miss Seo."
"CEO Kang."
Do-yoon's voice was low.
"They're watching you. Don't falter."
"I won't."
He looked at her.
"You never do."
---
Board Meeting Room
The boardroom was enormous — long mahogany table, leather chairs, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. At the head of the table sat the empty chairman's seat.
To the right of it, reserved for the temporary acting decision-maker, was a smaller seat.
Hers.
She walked there without hesitation.
A murmur spread across the room.
"She's taking the chairman's daughter's seat?"
"She shouldn't be here."
"She's too young."
"She has no authority—"
Do-yoon pulled his chair back and sat next to her.
Silence.
Every director stiffened instantly.
The message was clear:
insult her, and you stand against Kang Do-yoon.
Her uncle, Vice Chairman Seo Min-sung, entered last — with a kind, sympathetic smile painted on his face.
"Ah… our Yeon-hwa. You came."
His voice oozed fake warmth.
She bowed politely.
"Vice Chairman."
His smile widened.
"Are you prepared for this? These matters are complicated for someone who hasn't been involved in the company."
Do-yoon's gaze sharpened like a blade.
She spoke before he could.
"I read all the reports. I'm prepared."
Some directors exchanged uncertain looks.
Min-sung laughed gently — too gently.
"Well, let's begin."
---
The Meeting Begins
Financial reports.
Project Aurora analysis.
Chairman's emergency directives.
Every word, every slide, every graph — she listened with total focus.
Min-sung spoke in a slow, patronizing tone.
"Project Aurora was… unfortunately mismanaged. Your father became too trusting of external partners. It is… extremely unfortunate."
Her jaw tightened.
Subtly.
Controlled.
Do-yoon's eyes slid to her — watching her reaction.
He saw the tightening of her fingers.
He saw the quiet flash of anger behind her eyes.
She remained silent.
Min-sung continued.
"As acting decision-maker, I believe we should dissolve Aurora entirely."
"No."
The word was sharp, clean, cutting the room in half.
Every head turned.
Min-sung blinked.
"…Pardon?"
She met his gaze evenly.
"Aurora was never the problem. The breach came from internal manipulation."
Her uncle froze.
Do-yoon leaned back slightly.
Good.
Let her speak.
She continued, voice smooth:
"Dissolving Aurora helps only one party: the group trying to sabotage us."
Silence.
A director coughed nervously.
"Miss Seo… where did you get that idea?"
She opened her folder.
"The security logs."
Her uncle's smile twitched.
"And who," she asked quietly, "authorized the reduction of security the day my father had his accident?"
The room stiffened.
A few board members exchanged looks.
Her uncle's fingers trembled — barely.
He spoke carefully, too carefully:
"Those logs aren't conclusive. We shouldn't jump to accusati—"
She cut him off gently.
"I wasn't accusing."
Her voice softened.
"But you reacted like I was."
The room froze.
Do-yoon watched her
with a slow, proud, dangerous satisfaction.
Min-sung swallowed.
"I'm simply concerned you're making emotional conclusions."
"I'm not emotional."
Her aura shifted — subtly, gracefully.
Aura Control — Activated
Her warm vanilla scent softened into a calm, cool undertone, her posture sharpened, her gaze sharpened.
The room quieted.
Directors leaned back unconsciously.
Do-yoon didn't look surprised.
He noticed.
Of course he noticed.
When she spoke again, her voice carried the calm authority of someone twice her age:
"I'm here to understand the company. I'm not here to break it. If anyone is innocent, they'll have nothing to fear."
Her uncle's lip twitched.
"You sound like your father."
Her voice softened a fraction.
"I hope so."
---
Later — After the Meeting
When the directors filed out, shaken and whispering among themselves, only two people remained.
Her.
And Kang Do-yoon.
He stood, slipped his hands into his pockets, and walked around the table until he was standing directly in front of her.
"Stand," he said quietly.
She frowned.
"Why?"
He leaned forward, voice low.
"Because I want to look at you properly."
Her pulse jumped.
She rose slowly.
He studied her — eyes dark, unblinking, sweeping from her posture to her aura to the calm curve of her lips.
Then—
"You were perfect."
She blinked.
He continued.
"No fear. No trembling. No distraction."
He paused.
"You crushed them with a smile."
She looked away.
"Don't exaggerate."
"I'm not."
He stepped closer — not touching, but close enough for her breath to catch.
"You walked in quietly…"
His voice dropped.
"…and the entire room bowed without realizing it."
She inhaled sharply.
"Stop saying things like that," she murmured.
"Why?" he asked softly.
"Because it makes you nervous?"
She steadied her breath.
"No."
"Then why avoid it?"
She didn't answer.
He leaned even closer — a whisper away from her ear.
"Your uncle's scared of you now."
She froze.
"And he should be."
She turned her gaze to him, eyes slightly widened.
He held her look — firm, unyielding.
"You're not the villainess," he said quietly. "You're the heiress."
Her breath caught.
"Start acting like it."
Before she could speak, the boardroom door opened.
A soft voice said:
"Excuse me… am I late?"
They both turned.
A girl stood in the doorway.
Soft eyes.
Gentle features.
Long, flowing hair.
Calm smile.
Beautiful.
Radiant.
Pure.
The heroine.
And the moment she stepped into the room, the air shifted.
A quiet storm began.
Between three people.