Heeseung stepped forward, his posture effortlessly composed as he pushed open the door to their shared room. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm light over the space, creating an intimate yet calming atmosphere. He turned slightly, holding the door open for Yuna like the gentleman he always was. His expression was unreadable, but his dark eyes held a quiet intensity that made her heartbeat quicken ever so slightly.
"Thank you, sir," Yuna said softly, stepping inside with hesitant grace.
Heeseung's lips twitched at her formal choice of words, amusement flickering in his gaze. "Are you okay? Do you need me to send for some water?" His voice was low, gentle, yet firm, laced with an underlying concern that Yuna wasn't used to hearing.
For a brief second, she considered it. Maybe a glass of water would help calm her nerves, soothe the butterflies wreaking havoc in her stomach. But she quickly shook her head, pushing away the thought. "Oh, no, no. I'm good," she replied, waving her hands slightly to emphasize her point.
Just then, a sharp knock on the door interrupted them. The moment shattered like delicate glass, replaced by the realization that they were no longer alone.
"You may enter," Heeseung called out, his voice steady as ever.
The door creaked open, and there she was—Grandma, her face lighting up the moment she saw them. Despite her age, there was a youthful energy in her demeanor, a warmth that had always been a constant in Heeseung's life. She stepped inside, opening her arms wide as if ready to gather them both in a tight embrace.
"Oh, my darling grandchildren, you're back!" she exclaimed, her voice rich with affection as she pulled them close.
Yuna found herself smiling as she returned the embrace. "Thank you, Grandma," she said, appreciating the older woman's presence.
Grandma pulled away slightly, tilting her head with a knowing look. Her sharp eyes scanned them both before her lips curled into a teasing smile. "So, how was the trip? Did you two make a lot of love?"
Yuna froze.
The words hit her like a train, and for a moment, all she could hear was the rush of blood in her ears. She felt her cheeks flame with embarrassment, the warmth spreading down to her neck.
"What?! No, no, Granny! We just… we just went to chill!" she blurted out, her words tumbling over each other in her flustered state.
Grandma let out a soft, amused chuckle. "Oh, I see…" she said, clearly unconvinced but not pressing the issue further.
Yuna wanted to bury herself in the ground. Why did she always have to say things like that? She risked a glance at Heeseung, but his expression remained impassive, though the corners of his mouth twitched slightly, as if he were holding back laughter.
Before she could say anything else, another knock echoed through the room. A maid entered, her posture respectful as she bowed slightly.
"Dinner has been served," the maid informed them.
Grandma clapped her hands together, her excitement evident. "Well then, let's not keep everyone waiting. Come, come, let's go down for dinner," she urged, already making her way toward the door.
Yuna sighed, internally bracing herself. Dinner at the Jeong estate was never just a meal—it was a battlefield disguised in silk tablecloths and expensive wine.
The dining hall of the Jeong estate was nothing short of breathtaking. A grand chandelier, adorned with glimmering crystals, hung from the ceiling, casting an ethereal glow over the spacious room. The long, polished mahogany table stretched nearly the entire length of the hall, adorned with intricate floral arrangements and gold-rimmed dinnerware. It was the kind of luxury that most people could only dream of, yet to Yuna, it felt cold, suffocating, like a museum exhibit where everything was meant to be admired but never truly lived in.
The aroma of freshly prepared dishes filled the air, a testament to the culinary expertise of the estate's chefs. Steamed fish, grilled meats, an array of delicately prepared side dishes—all meticulously arranged, a feast fit for royalty. Yet, despite the lavish spread, Yuna felt no sense of comfort.
At the far end of the table, Ji-soo sat with her usual air of indifference, one hand resting elegantly on the table as she swirled the contents of her wine glass. She barely acknowledged their presence, her expression unreadable. Beside her sat Min-jae, the head of the family, his sharp eyes taking everything in with quiet authority.
As Heeseung and Yuna approached, Min-jae's gaze settled on them, a smile curving his lips—calculated, practiced, devoid of any real warmth.
"Oh, Heeseung, my son, you're back," Min-jae said smoothly, his tone measured.
"Yes, Father, we are back," Heeseung replied, his voice calm and composed as he pulled out a chair for Yuna. She sat down gracefully, keeping her expression neutral.
Min-jae turned his attention to her now, his gaze steady. "How are you, my daughter?"
Yuna hesitated for a fraction of a second before offering a polite smile. "Oh, I'm good, sir."
Min-jae let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly. "Oh, don't call me sir. We are family, aren't we?"
Family.
Yuna swallowed the bitter taste rising in her throat. Was that what they were? Family? It was a word that should have been comforting, yet in this house, it felt more like a binding contract, an unspoken set of rules she was expected to follow.
Before she could respond, the doors opened once more, and in walked Sohee.
Her entrance was nothing short of theatrical—every step calculated, every movement graceful. She carried herself with the air of a perfect daughter-in-law, the kind that would make any mother-in-law beam with pride. But Yuna wasn't fooled. Beneath that polished exterior was someone just as cunning as the rest of them.
"Good evening, everyone," Sohee greeted, her voice smooth as silk, her smile perfectly placed.
Only Ji-soo responded, offering a curt nod. The rest of the table remained silent.
Yuna watched as Sohee's smile faltered for just a fraction of a second before she quickly masked it. The realization that she wasn't as welcomed as she pretended to be must have stung. Interesting, Yuna mused.
Before the tension could thicken any further, the doors swung open again, and in stumbled Jaewon.
Unlike his usual pristine appearance, tonight he looked slightly disheveled. His dark hair was messier than usual, his collar unbuttoned, his movements just a tad slower than they should have been. The faint scent of alcohol clung to him, though he wasn't fully intoxicated—just enough to be loosened up, but still in control.
Jaewon walked past everyone without much of a glance, sinking into the seat beside Sohee. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a low sigh.
"I'm sorry I'm late," he muttered.
Yuna hid a smirk behind her water glass. So that was where he had been. Drinking.
The table remained silent for a moment, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. She could feel Sohee's eyes on her, filled with silent resentment, but Yuna didn't care.
She had played the role of the quiet, polite guest long enough.
She set her glass down and smiled, her gaze meeting Sohee's head-on.
Let the show begin.
The sound of clinking silverware filled the grand dining hall, an elegant yet suffocating symphony of carefully restrained politeness. The aroma of the extravagant dishes lingered in the air—succulent roasted meats, delicately prepared seafood, and an assortment of side dishes that would make any chef proud. But to Yuna, the food tasted bland, lifeless, nothing more than an obligation to consume rather than an experience to enjoy.
She ate in silence, focusing on the rhythmic motions of lifting her fork, chewing slowly, swallowing without really tasting. Across from her, Heeseung and his father, Min-jae, were engaged in a deep discussion about work matters—supply chains, stock values, business expansions—topics that Yuna had no part in, nor any interest. It was as though the two of them existed in a world separate from the rest of the table, leaving everyone else as mere spectators in their corporate strategies.
And yet, despite the layers of conversations unfolding, Yuna could feel it.
That gaze.
Persistent. Heavy. Unwelcome.
Jaewon.
His eyes burned into her like a brand, dragging across her skin, making her grip tighten around her utensils. It was a look that wasn't necessarily predatory, but one that reeked of something unsettling—like a hunter watching his prey, amused by the tension he could create with just his presence.
Yuna didn't dare look up, but she knew. She could sense the smugness in his stare, the way he delighted in making her uncomfortable. She wanted to turn and snap at him, to tell him to mind his own damn business, but that would only give him the reaction he wanted. Instead, she inhaled deeply, keeping her composure intact, willing herself to ignore him.
But the pressure was suffocating.
Jaewon's presence alone felt like an invasion, like an invisible hand wrapping around her throat, squeezing just enough to remind her that he was watching.
And then—
The scrape of a chair against the polished marble floor echoed through the room, sharp and jarring.
Yuna's eyes flickered upward, just in time to see Sohee rising from her seat with an air of practiced grace, the way an actress might before delivering a monologue.
Her long, elegant fingers smoothed out the nonexistent wrinkles in her dress as she cleared her throat, commanding the room's attention with a presence that was both poised and calculated.
"Oh, before we continue, I just wanted to say something," Sohee began, her voice carrying a sweetness so artificial it made Yuna's stomach twist.
The table fell silent, all eyes shifting toward her. Even Min-jae, who was deeply engrossed in his business talk, glanced at her with mild curiosity.
Yuna sighed internally. Here we go again.
Sohee had a talent for turning the most ordinary of situations into her own personal stage, twisting narratives, weaving herself into every conversation like she was the protagonist in a tragic tale only she believed in.
A soft, almost melancholic smile played on her lips as she clasped her hands together in front of her. "I just wanted to take this moment to thank the Jeong family for allowing me into their home," she said, her voice laced with an almost sickly-sweet gratitude. "It truly means so much to me, especially considering… everything."
And there it is, Yuna thought bitterly. The carefully placed pause, the subtle dramatics, the unsaid words hanging in the air like bait.
Sohee continued, sighing as though the weight of the world rested on her delicate shoulders. "I know that I am… a stranger here, an outsider. I know I have made mistakes."
She turned slightly, her gaze landing directly on Yuna.
And suddenly, it was no longer a speech of gratitude. It was an attack.
"I never wanted things to happen the way they did," Sohee said, voice trembling just enough to sound vulnerable. "I never wanted to betray my friend. It wasn't my intention to hurt anyone. But… things just happened. Feelings are complicated. Love is complicated."
Yuna's jaw clenched.
Love? Love?!
A slow, burning anger crawled up her spine as she stared at Sohee, the audacity of her words making her grip her fork so tightly her knuckles turned white. Was she seriously sitting here, pretending to be the victim? Was she really trying to rewrite the story in her favor?
Sohee wasn't done. She had a performance to complete.
She placed a delicate hand over her chest as though she were steadying herself, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I regret everything. If I could turn back time, I would. But I can't. All I can do is ask for forgiveness. Yuna…"
And just like that, the spotlight shifted.
Sohee turned to her fully now, her expression pleading, her voice soft and pitiful. "Please… please, I know I don't deserve it, but I'm asking you for your forgiveness. I've lost so much already. I don't want to lose more."
A tense silence followed.
Yuna let the words hang between them, absorbing them, dissecting them.
She had spent months dealing with Sohee's antics—her manipulative tendencies, her ability to twist the truth just enough to make herself seem innocent. She had endured the pitying glances, the whispered gossip, the way people would tilt their heads and say, "Maybe Sohee didn't mean it."
And now, here she was, standing before her again, weaponizing her supposed remorse like a shield, expecting Yuna to do what? Smile and say, It's okay, I forgive you?
No.
No, not this time.
Yuna set her fork down with deliberate slowness, finally lifting her gaze to meet Sohee's.
And she smiled.