By the next morning, Ariella's name no longer belonged .
She felt it the moment she stepped out of the elevator. Conversations paused. Eyes lifted, lingered, pretended not to stare. Someone whispered. Someone else smiled too brightly.
So this is what visibility feels like, she thought.
Secretary Han appeared at her side as if summoned by instinct. "Your schedule," he said calmly, handing her a tablet. "And a warning."
"A warning?" Ariella asked.
"People here don't fear change," he replied. "They fear losing relevance."
That explained the looks.
Her temporary office was just across from Jin-woo's—close enough to feel intentional. As she settled in, a woman approached, heels sharp, smile sharper.
"I'm Min Seo-rin," she said. "Director of Strategic Planning."
Of course she was.
"I've heard a lot about you," Seo-rin continued, eyes flicking over Ariella with polite assessment. "It's impressive how quickly you… rose."
Ariella met her gaze evenly. "Opportunities come unexpectedly."
Seo-rin's smile tightened. "They do. Especially when one sits at the right table."
Before Ariella could respond, Jin-woo's office door opened.
"Director Min," he said coolly. "Do you need something?"
Seo-rin turned instantly warm. "Just welcoming Miss Moon."
Jin-woo's eyes shifted to Ariella—not checking, not questioning—but something unreadable passing behind them.
"Good," he said. "I need Miss Moon."
Just like that, the conversation ended.
As Ariella followed him inside, she felt it—a subtle shift in the air she couldn't name.
The meeting was routine. Numbers. Projections. Market positioning.
Yet Jin-woo watched her more than the screen.
When she spoke, he listened. When someone interrupted, he corrected them. When an executive questioned her insight, Jin-woo shut it down with a single sentence.
"She's right."
Simple. Final.
Afterward, as they walked back down the hall, Ariella broke the silence.
"You don't have to do that," she said.
"Do what?"
"Defend me."
He stopped walking.
"This partnership," he said evenly, "requires trust."
Something about the way he said it—firm, almost territorial—made her chest tighten.
"I trust competence," he added. "Yours."
She nodded, unsure why his words stayed with her longer than they should have.
That afternoon, Ariella ran into an old colleague—Daniel Park, a junior consultant from a previous project. His face lit up when he saw her.
"Ariella? It's really you!"
They talked briefly, laughing softly, nostalgia easing her nerves.
She didn't notice Jin-woo watching from the end of the corridor.
Not until Daniel said, "We should catch up sometime."
"Maybe," Ariella replied politely.
When she turned, Jin-woo was there.
"Your meeting is in five minutes," he said.
"Oh—this is Daniel," she added. "We worked together before."
Jin-woo nodded once. "I see."
His tone was neutral. His expression wasn't.
As they walked away, Ariella glanced at him. "You didn't need to interrupt."
"I didn't," he replied. "I reminded you."
She frowned slightly. "Of what?"
He paused.
"Priorities."
For reasons she couldn't explain, the word lingered between them—heavy, loaded, unnecessary.
That night, alone in her apartment, Ariella finally allowed herself to breathe.
She opened her laptop and logged into her secret brand account—the one place where she wasn't pretending to be anyone else.
New orders blinked on the screen.
Her scent brand was growing.
Too fast.
Her phone buzzed.
Jin-woo: Did you make it home safely?
She stared at the message.
After a moment, she typed back.
Ariella: Yes. Thank you.
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Jin-woo: Good.
Just one word.
Yet Ariella found herself smiling at the screen.
Across the city, Jin-woo set his phone down, jaw tightening as an unfamiliar thought crossed his mind—
He didn't like not knowing who else occupied Ariella Moon's world.
And that realization unsettled him more than any hostile boardroom ever had.