Park Jiwan hit the floor hard again. The woman scrambled off the bed, tears streaming down her face, her hands shaking as she grabbed her clothes.
I’m sorry. I just I can’t. I’m so sorry. She didn’t even bother dressing properly before she ran out, the door slamming behind her so hard the painting on his wall tilted.
Giwan stayed on the floor, staring at the ceiling. 12.
That was 12 women in two months. 12. The first one had taken one look and literally screamed.
The second had tried to be brave, had whispered, “We can make this work.”
But 3 minutes later, she was crying, pushing him away like he’d attacked her.
The 3rd through 11th had variations of the same reaction.
Fear, pain, panic, rejection. And now this one, number 12, who’d seemed so confident at the bar, who’d flirted with him all evening, who’d kissed him in the elevator like she wanted this, gone, just like the others.
Giwan was the most feared man in soul. He controlled half the city’s underground operations.
Politicians returned his calls within minutes. Rival gangs avoided his territory.
But in his bedroom, he was just a man who couldn’t find someone who could handle him.
His phone buzzed. His cousin’s name flashed on the screen.
What? G1’s voice was flat. Found you a new PA.
She’s different. I don’t need different. I need competent. She’s both street smart, sharp, and boss.
She doesn’t scare easy. Trust me on this. Jiuan closed his eyes.
His previous assistant had quit 3 weeks ago, terrified after witnessing a deal go violent.
He needed someone who could handle classified information, travel without notice, and most importantly, keep their mouth shut.
One leaked secret, and he’d be dead within 48 hours.
Fine. Send her tomorrow morning. He hung up and finally pulled himself off the floor.
Tomorrow, he’d deal with business. Tonight he’d deal with the reality that this was his life now.
Powerful everywhere except where it mattered most. The next morning, Jiwan sat in his office reviewing contracts when his door opened.
No knock, just opened. A woman walked in wearing a black blazer over a cream blouse, fitted black pants, and heels that were practical, not flashy.
Her hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail. She carried a leather portfolio and met his eyes without the nervous smile most people gave him.
“Park Giwan?” She asked. His right-hand man, Tamman, who stood by the door, tensed.
Nobody addressed the boss so casually. Giwan studied her. “And you are?”
Zoe, your cousin said you needed someone who wouldn’t panic when things get messy.
She walked to the chair across from his desk, but didn’t sit.
So, here I am. What’s the real job? Most people stumbled through interviews with him, sweating, overexlaining.
This woman just stood there waiting like she had better places to be.
Sit. She sat crossing her legs, her posture relaxed but alert.
The job pays extremely well, Jiwan said, sliding a contract across his desk.
But it comes with risks. People will try to kill you to get to me.
They’ll offer you money to betray me. They’ll threaten anyone you care about.
I don’t have anyone to threaten, Zoe said, picking up the contract.
And I’ve dealt with worse than death threats. Have you?
She looked up, and for a brief moment, something dark flickered in her eyes.
Yes. Giwan leaned back. Most people couldn’t hold his gaze for more than 5 seconds.
She was going on 30. Read the contract carefully. Zoe scanned through it, her expression neutral until she reached page three, her eyebrow raised slightly.
“So, I’m your assistant and occasionally your girlfriend.” “Fiance,” Giwan corrected.
“For business purposes. Some deals require a certain image. You’ll accompany me to social events and when necessary, appear as someone who’s chosen to be with me.”
“Appear as someone in love with you,” she said, not a question.
“Can you do that?” She tilted her head, considering I’ve pretended worse things for worse people.
When do I start? Tonight I have a dinner meeting with potential partners.
They don’t respect men who show up alone. What time?
7, she stood. Then I need to go shopping. This blazer isn’t going to cut it for whatever crowd you run with.
Tamman will take you. Use the company card. I’ll pay for my own clothes,” she said immediately.
“It’s not optional. You’re representing me now.” They stared at each other, a test of wills happening in complete silence.
Finally, Zoe shrugged. “Fine, but I’m not wearing anything. I can’t move in.
If someone pulls a gun, I’m not dying because I couldn’t run in heels.”
Tamman coughed to hide a laugh. Giwan almost smiled. “Almost.
Deal. Four hours later, Zoe stood in a boutique holding up a navy dress that probably cost more than her entire month’s rent at her old apartment.
Tamman’s girlfriend, Mi, had insisted on coming along, claiming Zoe needed a woman’s perspective.
“This one’s perfect,” Mji said, examining the dress. “Elegant, but not too formal, and the fabric has stretch, so you can move if you need to.”
Zoe disappeared into the fitting room. When she emerged, even Tamman had to admit she looked stunning.
The dress hugged her curves without being inappropriate, and somehow she still looked like she could handle herself if things went wrong.
“Shoes?” Mi asked, holding up a pair of modest heels.
“Those work. Nothing higher.” Before Mi could respond, a sharp voice cut through the store.
“Well, isn’t this interesting?” A woman in an expensive designer outfit approached, her eyes scanning Zoey with obvious disdain.
She was beautiful in that highmaintenance way. Every hair in place, makeup perfect, dripping in jewelry.
“Can I help you?” Zoe asked calmly. “I’m Sora, Giwan’s girlfriend.”
“Exgirlfriend?” Tamman corrected quietly. Sora shot him a look before turning back to Zoe.
Semantics. We had dinner 2 weeks ago. Congratulations, Zoe said.
I’m Miss PA. Was there something you needed or are you just here to shop?
Sora stepped closer. I’m here to give you advice, sweetie.
Whatever you think you’re doing, whatever game you’re playing, you’re out of your league.
Giwan needs someone who understands his world. Someone with class.
Someone who someone who ran away. Zoe’s voice was still calm, almost gentle.
Because from what I hear, that’s what you did. Sora’s face flushed.
You don’t understand what it’s like, what he’s like. I tried.
I really tried, but he’s just too much, too intense, too.
And you think that’s something wrong with him? Zoe interrupted.
That’s interesting because from where I’m standing, the problem wasn’t him.
It was you. Sora’s eyes narrowed. “You’re new. You don’t know what you’re getting into.”
“Giwan isn’t like normal men. He’s not my concern.” Zoe interrupted, examining a silk scarf on the nearby display.
“I’m his assistant, not his therapist. Whatever drama you two had is between you and him.”
Sora’s face flushed red. “Drama? You think this is drama?
You have no idea what it’s like to be with someone like him.
The intensity, the expectations, the again, not my problem. Zoe picked up the scarf, testing the fabric quality.
Is there an actual point to this conversation, or are you just venting?
I’m trying to warn you. Warn me about what? My job.
Zoe finally looked at her directly. Look, I don’t know what you want from me.
Sympathy, validation. I’m here to work, get paid, and go home.
Your relationship issues with my boss are frankly none of my business.
Sora stepped closer, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper.
You think you’re so smart, don’t you? Walking in here like, “You’re special.
But you’re just another girl who doesn’t know what she’s signed up for.
When you can’t handle him either, don’t say I didn’t try to help.”
Zoe set down the scarf and turned to face Sora fully, her expression completely neutral.
I appreciate the unsolicited advice, but I’m good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have actual work to do.
She started to walk away. The slap came out of nowhere, sharp, stinging, hard enough to snap Zoe’s head to the side.
The boutique went silent. Mi gasped. Tamman took a step forward, but Zoe held up her hand, stopping him.
She touched her cheek slowly, then looked at Sora with an expression so cold it could freeze water.
Bad choice. The first slap came fast, precise, catching Sora across the same cheek.
Before Sora could even process it, the second one landed on the other side, harder.
Sora stumbled backward, her hand flying to her face, tears springing to her eyes.
You You can’t. I just did. Zoe’s voice was eerily calm.
Here’s a life lesson. Don’t put your hands on people unless you’re ready for them to return the favor.
Now we’re done here. She turned to the horrified sales associate.
I’ll take the navy dress. Can you ring it up?
Now, wasn’t that a nice surprise? Hey, nesties. Welcome to Afro Korean Stories Nest.
Tell me, how did that slap make you feel? Don’t forget to like, share, and subscribe to join the nest.
Let’s get back into it. Her hands were steady as she pulled out her wallet, even though Tamman could see the red mark blooming on her cheek.
Sora stood there shaking, mascara starting to run as tears stream down her face.
“I’m calling Giwan.” Sora choked out. “He’ll fire you for this.
He’ll He’ll what?” Zoe didn’t even turn around. Fire me for defending myself after you assaulted me in public?
Sure. Let me know how that works out for you.
Minji quickly paid for the dress while Tamman ushered Zoe toward the exit.
As they left, Zoe could hear Sora on the phone.
Her voice hysterical, but she didn’t care. She dealt with worse than dramatic ex-girlfriends.
In the car, Tamman kept glancing at her in the rear view mirror.
You okay? Fine. She hits like a child. Boss is going to hear about this.
Let him. Zoe looked out the window. I did nothing wrong.
She started it. I finished it. Simple. Tamman’s phone buzzed.
He glanced at it and his eyebrows shot up. Boss wants to know what happened.
Sora already called him. Tell him the truth. His ex slapped me.
I slapped her back twice. Tamman typed carefully, then waited.
The response came quickly. He burst out laughing. What? Zoe asked.
He says, and I quote, “Good. She’s had that coming for months.
Buy Zoe whatever she wants and tell her I said well done.
Zoe felt something unexpected. Relief. She hadn’t been sure how G1 would react to her hitting his ex-girlfriend regardless of the circumstances.
Tell him I don’t need anything except an ice pack and maybe a raise, she said.
Back at the penthouse, Zoe held a bag of frozen peas to her cheek while getting ready.
The red mark had faded to a dull pink and makeup would mostly cover it.
The navy dress fit perfectly and she paired it with simple black heels that were practical enough to run in if necessary.
Giwan was in the living room when she emerged and his eyes immediately went to her cheek.
Let me see. It’s fine, just a little red. He crossed the room and gently tilted her face toward the light, examining the mark.
His jaw tightened. I’m sorry. Sora had no right. She didn’t and I handled it.
Zoe stepped back. Can we move on? We have a dinner to get to.
You don’t have to do this tonight if you’re not feeling up to it.
I’m fine, Giwan. Really? It was a slap, not a knife wound.
I’ve had worse. She grabbed her clutch. Now, tell me about these people we’re meeting.
I want to be prepared. In the car, Giwan briefed her.
Two real estate developers from Singapore, Marcus Lim and Rachel Tan, plus their financial adviser, David Wong.
They’re looking to invest in soul properties, but Marcus is particular about who he works with.
Particular how he only trusts people who are settled, married, engaged, familyoriented.
He thinks single businessmen are unreliable. So, I’m here to make you look stable.
Essentially, yes. Got it. Loving fiance who makes you look like husband material.
I can do that. She paused. Anything else I should know?
David is suspicious by nature. He’ll try to catch you in inconsistencies.
Just stay calm and keep your story straight. What story?
We met 6 months ago through mutual friends. You were working in corporate consulting but quit to pursue independent projects.
We got engaged two months ago. Zoe nodded, committing it to memory.
Simple enough. What about the ring? Giwan pulled a small box from his jacket pocket and handed it to her.
Inside was an elegant diamond ring, not too flashy, but clearly expensive.
Zoe slipped it on her finger. It fit perfectly. You guessed my ring size.
Tman’s girlfriend helped. The restaurant was upscale, all dark wood and ambient lighting with private rooms that cost more per night than most people’s monthly rent.
They were led to one such room where three people already waited.
Marcus Lim stood immediately, his gray hair perfectly styled, his handshake firm and assessing.
Mr. Park, a pleasure. The pleasure is mine. This is my fianceé Zoey.
Marcus took her hand, his eyes flickering briefly to the faint mark on her cheek before settling on her face.
Lovely to meet you. This is my partner, Rachel Tan, and our adviser, David Wong.
Rachel was stunning in a crimson suit, her smile warm.
David barely looked up from his phone. They sat and the evening began.
Zoe played her role perfectly, warm but not overeager, knowledgeable, but not pushy.
When Marcus asked about her background, she delivered the cover story smoothly.
Corporate consulting felt too restrictive. I prefer choosing projects that actually interest me now.
And what interests you? Rachel asked. Honestly, urban development. There’s something fascinating about watching cities evolve, how spaces transform to meet new needs.
Zoe took a sip of wine. That’s actually how Giwan and I connected.
We met at a seminar on sustainable architecture. It wasn’t in the cover story, but it flowed naturally, and Giwan picked up the thread immediately.
She asked better questions than half the developers in the room.
He said with a smile that looked genuinely affectionate. Marcus nodded approvingly.
Intelligence is an attractive quality. The dinner continued smoothly. Zoe touched Giwan’s arm occasionally.
Laughed at his jokes and leaned in when he spoke.
Under the table, his hand found hers and squeezed gently.
She squeezed back, maintaining the illusion. But it was David who finally spoke up, his eyes sharp.
You seem very informed about Singapore’s property. Market for someone who works independently.
Zoe met his gaze calmly. I do my homework. Jiwan mentioned this dinner yesterday, so I spent this afternoon reading market reports.
Would be rude to show up unprepared to discuss your investments.
What did you learn? That Marina Bay’s commercial vacancy rates dropped 15% last quarter, making it one of the most profitable districts in Asia.
That your government’s cooling measures are actually stabilizing rather than suppressing the market.
And that you’re likely looking at Seoul because our property laws are more favorable for foreign investors than Tokyo or Hong Kong right now.
She smiled. Did I miss anything? David’s expression shifted from suspicious to impressed.
No, that’s accurate. Rachel laughed. I like her, Giwan. Don’t mess this up.
By dessert, Marcus was fully engaged, discussing terms and timelines like the deal was already done.
As they said their goodbyes, Rachel pulled Zoe aside. Between us?
You’re too smart to just be someone’s fiance. Make sure you’re building something for yourself, too.
Zoe smiled. I appreciate that, but don’t worry. I know exactly what I’m doing.
In the car ride home, Jiwan was quiet for a long moment.
Finally, he said, “You were incredible tonight. I did my job.
You did more than that. The Marina Bay detail, the government policies, even the architecture seminar edition.
That was all quick thinking. Like I said, I did my homework.”
She looked at him. Did we get the deal? We got the deal.
Good. Then tonight was a success. She pulled off the ring and handed it back to him.
Keep it for future events. You sure? This thing probably costs more than a car.
I’m sure. Consider it part of your work equipment. Zoe slipped it back on, admiring how it caught the light.
Not bad for fake jewelry. It’s not fake. She looked at him sharply.
You gave me a real diamond ring to wear for pretend engagements.
Would you prefer a fake one? I’d prefer not to lose something worth six figures because I forgot to take it off before washing dishes.
He smiled. Then don’t forget. When they reached the penthouse, Zoe kicked off her heels immediately and collapsed on the couch.
My feet are killing me. Giwan sat across from her, loosening his tie.
You handled everything perfectly tonight, including David’s test. He wasn’t that hard to read.
He wanted to catch me lying, so I just told the truth.
Well, my version of it, she stretched. Your ex called me annoying, by the way.
I heard. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.
Don’t be. I handled it. She touched her cheek briefly.
Though, next time, maybe warn me if you have psychotic exes lurking around.
Noted, he paused. For what it’s worth, Sora’s been blocked on everything.
She won’t bother you again. Good. Zoe stood. I’m exhausted.
See you tomorrow, Zoe. She turned. Thank you for tonight.
You’re paying me extremely well to say you’re welcome. So, you’re welcome.
She grinned. Good night, boss. After she disappeared into her room, Jiwan sat alone in the darkness, his mind churning.
Tamman emerged from the hallway. Background check came back and she’s clean.
Too clean, actually. It’s like she didn’t exist before 3 years ago.
G1’s eyes narrowed. What does that mean? It means she’s either extremely good at covering her tracks or someone helped her disappear.
Tamman handed him a tablet. No criminal record, no debt, no family that we can find.
She worked at three different companies in 2 years under different names.
Always left on good terms, always moved before anyone could get too close.
She’s running from something. That would be my guess. Giwan stared at the tablet, at the photo of Zoe that looked nothing like the confident woman currently sleeping in his guest room.
Keep digging, but carefully. I don’t want her to know we’re looking.
You trust her? I don’t know yet, but I want to.
The next two weeks were chaos in the best possible way.
Zoe threw herself into the job with an intensity that impressed even Gwan’s most skeptical employees.
She reorganized his entire filing system, fired an accountant she caught skimming funds, and somehow convinced a hostile investor to back off by simply sitting in his office for 4 hours without saying a word until he agreed to her terms.
“How did you do that?” Giwan asked when she returned.
“People hate silence more than confrontation. I just waited him out.
She handed him the signed contract. He’ll leave you alone for at least 2 years.
His staff started calling her the ice queen behind her back.
Not out of disrespect, but because she handled crisis situations with unnerving calm.
When a delivery went missing and everyone was panicking, Zoe made three phone calls, traced it to a warehouse in Busousan, and had it rerouted within an hour.
When a business partner showed up drunk to a meeting and started making a scene.
She smoothly escorted him out, called his driver, and rescheduled for the following week without Giwan ever knowing there was a problem.
She was efficient, sharp, and completely unflapable. She was also driving Giwan absolutely insane.
Not because she was bad at her job, because she was too good at it.
And because every time they had a public event, she played the role of loving fiance so convincingly that he was starting to forget it was an act.
At a charity gayla, she’d laughed at his jokes with her hand on his chest, looked up at him like he’d hung the moon, and whispered something about the hostess’s terrible botox that made him laugh so hard he nearly choked on his champagne.
At a business lunch, she’d casually mentioned that Giwan had remembered her favorite flowers, and the entire table had melted at how thoughtful he was.
He hadn’t remembered anything. She’d made it up on the spot.
But the way she’d smiled at him made his chest tighten anyway.
And at a private dinner with investors, she’d reached across the table to wipe something from the corner of his mouth so naturally, so intimately that everyone had smiled indulgently while Giwan’s heart had nearly stopped.
The problem was that when they were alone, she went back to being completely professional.
No lingering touches, no warm smiles, just yes, boss, and I’ll handle it, boss, and see you tomorrow, boss.
It was maddening. You’re staring again, Tamman said one afternoon when Zoe was across the office discussing something with the legal team.
I’m not staring. You’re definitely staring. And you’re doing that thing where you tap your pen, which means you’re thinking too hard about something.
G1 set down his pen. She’s hiding something. We knew that already.
The background check. Not that. Something else. He watched as Zoe laughed at something.
One of the lawyers said, her whole face lighting up.
She’s too good at this. At reading people, at adapting, at becoming exactly what any situation needs.
That’s not normal. Maybe she’s just talented. Or maybe she’s been trained.
Tamman was quiet for a moment. You think she’s working for someone else?
I don’t know, but I need to find out. That evening, Giwan came home early to find the penthouse empty.
Zoe’s door was closed, and he could hear music playing softly from inside.
He knocked. “Come in,” she called. He opened the door to find her sitting cross-legged on her bed, laptop open, surrounded by papers and files.
She was wearing sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. Her hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun.
Glasses perched on her nose. Didn’t know you wore glasses, he said.
Only when I’m working on something detailed. Contacts dry out my eyes.
She glanced up. Did you need something? What are you working on?
Your Singapore contracts. I found some inconsistencies in the subsidiary clauses that could cause problems later.
Nothing urgent, but worth fixing. Now, rather than dealing with lawsuits in 6 months, Jiwan walked closer, looking at her notes.
They were meticulous, color-coded, with references to specific legal precedents.
Where did you learn contract law? Internet, YouTube, legal forums?
She shrugged. I’m a quick study, Zoe. Something in his tone made her look up.
What? Who are you really? She set down her pen slowly.
What kind of question is that? The kind I need answered.
You show up out of nowhere with no real background, no references, no history anyone can verify.
You’re too good at everything. Too calm under pressure? Too too competent?
She closed her laptop. Is that a crime now? I’m not accusing you of anything.
I just want to understand who I’m trusting with my entire operation.
Zoe was quiet for a long moment. Then she sighed and took off her glasses, rubbing her eyes.
You want the truth? Yes. Fine. She met his gaze directly.
3 years ago, I was engaged to someone. He was powerful, connected, dangerous.
I thought I loved him. Turned out he loved control more than he loved me.
When I tried to leave, he made it very clear that wasn’t an option.
Giwan’s jaw tightened. What did you do? I disappeared. Changed my name, changed my appearance, learned everything I could about staying invisible.
I worked jobs under fake identities. Saved every penny and kept moving every time I felt like someone was getting too close.
She stood up, crossing her arms. I learned to read people because my life depended on it.
I learned to adapt because staying in one place too long was dangerous.
And I learned to be useful because useful people don’t get thrown away.
Is he still looking for you? Probably. Men like him don’t handle rejection well.
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. But I’m careful.
And I’ve gotten very good at being someone else. Why did you take this job?
Working for me puts you in the public eye. If he’s looking, he’s looking for a scared girl who ran away 3 years ago.
Not a confident woman working for one of soul’s most powerful men.
She walked to the window looking out at the city.
Besides, I was tired of running, tired of being afraid.
This job, working for you. It’s the first time in years I’ve felt like I’m actually living instead of just surviving.
Giwan crossed the room to stand beside her. What was his name?
Does it matter? It does to me. She turned to look at him, searching his face for something.
Why? Because if he ever comes looking for you, I need to know who I’m dealing with.
You’d protect me even though you barely know me. You work for me.
That makes you my responsibility. He paused. And I don’t like men who hurt women.
Zoe’s expression softened just slightly. His name was Kang Minsuk.
He runs operations in Busousan, shipping mostly, but he has his hands in everything illegal you can think of.
Jiwan knew that name, knew the reputation. Minsuk was ruthless, paranoid, and had a particular hatred for anyone who made him look weak.
If Zoe had escaped from him, she was either incredibly lucky or incredibly smart.
“He won’t find you here,” Jiwan said quietly. I’ll make sure of it.
You can’t promise that. Yes, I can. He turned to face her fully.
You’ve proven yourself over these past 2 weeks. You’re valuable to my organization, and I protect what’s valuable to me.
Is that all I am? Valuable? The question hung between them, loaded with something neither of them wanted to acknowledge yet.
For now, Jiwan said carefully. That’s all this needs to be.
Good. But Zoe’s voice was softer than usual because I’m not looking for complicated.
I’ve had enough complicated to last a lifetime. Understood. They stood there for a moment, the city lights glittering below them.
The silence comfortable but charged with unspoken tension. “I should let you get back to work,” Jiwan said finally.
“Yeah, these contracts won’t fix themselves.” He was at the door when she called out, “Giwan.”
He turned. “Thank you for not pushing and for,” She hesitated.
“For believing me. You’ve given me no reason not to.”
After he left, Zoe sat back down on her bed, staring at her laptop without really seeing it.
She’d told him the truth. Most of it, anyway, but not all of it.
Not the part about why Melk really wanted her back.
Not the part about what she’d taken when she left.
Some secrets were too dangerous to share, even with someone who was starting to matter more than he should.
Across the penthouse, Jiwan stood in his office making a phone call.
I need everything you can find on Kang Minsk. Operations, associates, weaknesses, everything.
Planning something, boss? Tamman asked. Insurance. If he comes looking for her, I want to be ready.
You really care about her, don’t you? Jiwan didn’t answer immediately, then quietly, I’m starting to.
That’s dangerous. I know, but even as he said it, Jiwan knew it was already too late.
Somewhere in the past 2 weeks, Zoe had stopped being just an employee.
She’d become something more, something he couldn’t quite name yet, but couldn’t ignore.
And that terrified him more than any business deal ever had.
The breaking point came a week later. They just returned from another business dinner where Zoe had played her role flawlessly.
As usual, the moment they stepped into the penthouse, she kicked off her heels and headed for her room.
Good night, boss. Zoe, wait. She turned and maybe it was the wine from dinner.
Or maybe it was weeks of builtup tension, but Giwan couldn’t take it anymore.
We need to talk about what? About this? About us, about whatever this is that we keep pretending isn’t happening.”
Zoe’s expression shuddered immediately. There is no us. There’s you, me, and a very professional working relationship.
That’s it. You don’t believe that. Yes, I do. Then why do you look at me like that when you think I’m not paying attention?
Why do you touch me even when no one’s watching?
Why? I don’t You do. He crossed the distance between them.
And I look at you the same way, and I think about you constantly, and I know this is a terrible idea, but I don’t care anymore.
Zoe backed up until she hit the wall. Giwan, don’t.
Don’t what? Don’t tell the truth. Don’t admit that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the moment you walked into my office.
He braced his hands on either side of her head.
Don’t say that I want you. This is a bad idea, she whispered, but her breathing had changed, quickened.
Probably the worst. I work for you. I’ll fire you.
You can’t afford to lose me. Then I’ll suffer the scandal.
Gi. He kissed her hard, desperate, pouring weeks of frustration and longing into it.
For a split second, she went rigid, and he thought she’d push him away.
But then she was kissing him back with equal intensity, her hands fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer.
They stumbled toward her bedroom, mouths never breaking apart. Hands everywhere.
Years of control finally snapping. Jiuan kicked the door shut behind them, pressing her against it, his hands sliding under her blouse.
“Tell me to stop,” he breathed against her neck. “No, Zoe,” I said.
No. She pulled his face back to hers. For once, stop overthinking everything.
Giwan woke up alone. The morning light filtered through Zoe’s curtains.
And for a moment, he just lay there processing what had happened.
Last night had been intense, different from anything he’d experienced before.
With Zoe, there had been no fear, no hesitation, no moment where she’d looked at him like he was too much.
She’d matched him completely, pushed back when he pushed, taken everything he gave, and demanded more.
It had been perfect, and now she was gone. He found her in the kitchen, fully dressed in workclo, her hair pulled back, makeup flawless, pouring coffee like it was any other morning.
She looked up when he entered, and her smile was polite, professional.
Morning, I made extra coffee. Yours is on the counter.
Giwan stared at her. That’s it. That’s all you’re going to say?
What else should I say? She took a sip from her mug.
You have a meeting at 9 with the construction team.
I rescheduled your lunch with Minister Park because his office called something about a conflict and the contracts from Singapore came back signed.
We’re good to proceed. Zoe, also I think we should discuss hiring another junior assistant.
I’m getting stretched thin with the international accounts. And Zoe, stop.
She finally looked at him. Really looked at him and her expression was carefully neutral.
What? Last night was last night. She set down her mug.
And now it’s morning and we have work to do.
So unless you want to discuss something business related, I need to get ready for that 9:00.
She tried to walk past him, but he caught her arm gently.
Don’t do this. Do what? Pretend it didn’t mean anything.
It was sex, Jiwan. Good sex. Great sex, even. But that’s all it was.
Her voice was steady, but he could see something flickering in her eyes.
Fear maybe, or vulnerability. We’re adults. We had a moment.
Now it’s over. And we move on. And if I don’t want to move on, she pulled her arm free.
Then you’re making this more complicated than it needs to be.
I work for you. I like working for you. Let’s not ruin a good professional relationship by confusing it with something else.
This isn’t confusion. Yes, it is. She grabbed her tablet from the counter.
Look, I’ve been down this road before. Mixing business with personal feelings.
It doesn’t end well, so let’s just not, okay? Before he could respond, her phone rang.
She glanced at it, and her expression tightened almost imperceptibly.
I need to take this. She walked out onto the balcony, and Giwan watched through the glass as she answered.
Her body language changed immediately, became defensive, tense. The call lasted less than a minute, but when she came back inside, all the color had drained from her face.
“Everything okay?” He asked. “Fine.” But her hand was shaking slightly as she set down her phone.
“I need to run an errand before the meeting. I’ll be back by 8:30.”
“Zoe, what’s wrong?” “Nothing. Just something I need to handle.”
She grabbed her bag and headed for the door. “Is it him?
Is it Minsk?” She froze, her back still to him.
It’s handled. Don’t worry about it. If he’s threatening you, I said it’s handled.
She turned and her professional mask was back in place.
I’ll see you at the office. She left before he could argue and Jiwan stood there feeling helpless and frustrated.
He pulled out his phone and called Tamman. I need you to follow Zoe.
Don’t let her see you, but I need to know where she’s going and who she’s meeting.
On it. An hour later, Tamman called back. Boss, you need to hear this.
What happened? She went to a cafe in Gangnam, met with a guy, early 40s, expensive suit, looked like money.
They talked for maybe 10 minutes. She looked pissed the entire time.
When he tried to touch her arm, she jerked away like he’d burned her.
Then she left. Did you get a photo? Yeah. Sending it now.
The photo came through and Giwan’s blood ran cold. He recognized the man immediately.
Not Melk, but someone just as dangerous. Lee Jung, one of Miniok’s top enforcers.
If he was in Seoul looking for Zoey, that meant Miniok knew where she was.
Jiwan was already grabbing his jacket when Zoe walked into the office at 8:30, exactly as she’d promised.
She looked composed, professional, like nothing had happened. Ready for the meeting?
She asked. Cancel it. She blinked. What? Why? Because we need to talk now.
He gestured to his private office and after a moment’s hesitation, she followed him inside.
He closed the door and turned to face her. Lie Jay sung.
Why was he here? Her face went carefully blank. How did you I had you followed you?
What? Anger flashed in her eyes. You had no right.
You’re in danger and you’re trying to handle it alone.
That gives me every right. He crossed his arms. What did he want?
It doesn’t matter. It matters to me. What did he say?
Zoe was quiet for a long moment and then she sighed, the fight going out of her.
She sat down heavily in one of his chairs. Minsuk knows I’m in soul.
He knows I’m working for you and he wants me back.
And you said, “What do you think I said? I told him to tell Muk to go to hell.”
She rubbed her temples. Jung said, “I have one week to come home voluntarily or they’ll come get me.”
His words, “They won’t touch you. You don’t know Mio.
He doesn’t make threats he can’t follow through on. Neither do I.
Jiwan sat on the edge of his desk. What did you take from him?
She looked up sharply. What? When you left, you took something, didn’t you?
That’s why he wants you back so badly. It’s not just about ego or control.
You have something he needs. Zoe’s laugh was bitter. You’re smarter than I gave you credit for.
What was it? She pulled a small flash drive from her pocket and held it up.
Every illegal transaction he’s made for the past 5 years.
Bank accounts, shell companies, payoffs, everything. I copied it the night before I ran.
Insurance in case he ever found me. And he knows you have it.
He suspects, but he can’t prove it. And he can’t risk me leaking it.
So, he needs me back under his control. She tucked the drive back into her pocket.
I’ve kept copies in three different locations. If anything happens to me, it all goes public.
Give it to me. What? No. Zoe, this is leverage.
Real leverage. With this, I can protect you properly. Maybe even get him to back off permanently.
Or he’ll kill both of us to get it back.
She stood. This is my problem, Giwan. I shouldn’t have dragged you into it.
Too late. I’m already involved. He caught her hand. Let me help you.
She looked down at their joined hands and for the first time since that morning her mask cracked.
Why? Why do you care so much? Because last night wasn’t just sex for me.
The words came out rougher than he intended. And I don’t think it was just sex for you either.
Giwan, you can lie to yourself all you want, but don’t lie to me.
Not about this. Zoe pulled her hand away, wrapping her arms around herself.
It doesn’t matter what it was. Getting involved with me is dangerous.
You saw what happened. Minsk found me. He’ll use you to get to me.
Or worse, he’ll hurt you just to prove a point.
Let him try. You don’t mean that. I absolutely mean that.
He stepped closer. I’ve built my entire life on not backing down from threats.
I’m not starting now. Especially not when it’s about someone who matters.
I can’t matter to you. We barely know each other.
Then let me get to know you. Really know you.
Not the polished assistant version or the fake fiance version.
The real you. She laughed, but it sounded close to tears.
You don’t want to know the real me. She’s damaged and scared and running from a past that won’t let her go.
I don’t care. You should, but I don’t. He reached up and gently tilted her face toward his.
I’ve spent my entire adult life being told I’m too much for people to handle, too intense, too demanding, to everything.
And then you walked into my life and handled all of it without flinching.
Do you have any idea how rare that is? That’s just because I’m good at pretending.
Stop. Stop diminishing what you are. His thumb brushed across her cheek.
“You’re brilliant and strong and the first person in years who’s looked at me and seen someone worth defending instead of someone to be afraid of.
So, no, I don’t care about your past or your damage or whatever you think makes you unworthy of this.
I want you anyway.” A tear slipped down her cheek before she could stop it.
This is such a bad idea. I know. We work together.
I’ll fire you. I’ll hire you back as a consultant.
I’ll figure it out. Mock will come after you. Let him.
I’ve handled worse. You’re insane. Probably. He smiled. Is it working?
Despite everything, she laughed. A real laugh that sounded like relief and surrender all at once.
Unfortunately, yes. So, stop fighting me on this. Stop pretending you don’t feel it, too.
Zoe was quiet for a long moment, and Giwan could see the war happening behind her eyes.
Fear versus hope, self-p protection versus vulnerability. Finally, she whispered, “What if I hurt you?
What if you don’t? What if Msoke? We’ll handle him together.”
He rested his forehead against hers. I’m not asking you to have all the answers right now.
I’m just asking you to stop running from me, from this, from whatever this could be.
I don’t know how to do that. Running is all I know.
Then learned something new. He kissed her softly, gently. Nothing like the desperate heat from the night before.
This was a promise, a beginning. Stay. Not because you work for me or because you’re hiding from someone.
Stay because you want to. When he pulled back, Zoe’s eyes were wet, but clearer than he’d seen them.
“Okay, okay, okay, I’ll try. I’ll stay and I’ll try.”
She took a shaky breath, but I’m going to panic probably multiple times, and I’m going to want to run when things get hard.
Then I’ll remind you why you stayed, and if Minsk, we’ll deal with him when the time comes, together.”
She nodded, and then she kissed him. Soft and tentative and terrified and hopeful all at once.
When they finally broke apart, she rested her head against his chest.
“I’m still scared,” she admitted quietly. “Me, too.” “Really?” Terrified.
“I’ve never felt like this about anyone. It’s new and uncomfortable and completely out of my control.”
He wrapped his arms around her. “But I’d rather be scared with you than safe without you.”
Zoe tightened her grip on him. When did you get so good with words?
Desperation makes poets of us all. She laughed against his chest and Jiwan thought that maybe, just maybe, this insane, complicated, dangerous thing between them might actually work.
They stayed like that for a long moment before Zoe pulled back.
We really did cancel an important meeting for this. Worth it.
Your construction team is going to hate me. They’ll survive.
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Besides, we have more important things to worry about now.
Like Minsk. Like Mincio. He pulled out his phone. I’m calling a meeting with my security team.
We need a plan. Giwan, you don’t have to. Yes, I do.
You’re mine now. That means I protect you. He paused.
Unless you hate me calling you mine. I can workshop the phrasing.
Despite everything, Zoe smiled. No, I think I like it.
Good. Now, let’s figure out how to make your ex- fiance regret ever letting you go.
3 months later, Zoe stood in front of Florida ceiling windows in Giwan’s office, watching the city below.
So much had changed in such a short time that sometimes she had to remind herself it was real.
Much had made his move exactly one week after Jay Sunung’s cafe visit.
He’d sent five men to grab her outside a restaurant where she and Jiwan were having dinner.
They’d made it three steps before Jiwan’s security team intercepted them.
The confrontation had been brief, brutal, and ended with Msok’s men in police custody on weapons charges.
The next day, Giwan had made a call. One call to someone Zoe had never heard of but whose name made Mio’s operations in Busousan suddenly face intense scrutiny from authorities.
Shipments were delayed. Accounts were frozen. Partners started backing away.
Then Jiwan had sent Mielk a message simple and direct.
Leave her alone or I release everything she has on you.
Your choice. Muk had made the smart choice. The threats stopped.
The men disappeared, and Zoe finally, for the first time in 3 years, felt like she could breathe.
“You’re thinking too loud,” Jiwan said from his desk. She turned to find him watching her, his expression soft in a way it only ever was when they were alone.
“Just remembering.” Good memories or bad? Both. She walked over and perched on the edge of his desk.
Mostly good, though. Good. He pulled her onto his lap and she went willingly.
Something that still surprised her sometimes. How easy it had become to let him close.
What are you remembering specifically that cafe meeting with Jung?
How terrified I was, how sure I was that everything was about to fall apart.
She played with his tie and then you had me followed.
Still mad about that? Should have been, but honestly, I was relieved.
It meant I wasn’t alone anymore. She kissed him softly.
Even if you were an overbearing, controlling boss at the time.
At the time, I’m pretty sure I’m still overbearing and controlling.
True, but now I find it charming. Liar. She grinned.
Okay, maybe not charming, but tolerable. He tickled her side, making her squirm and laugh.
Tolerable? That’s the best you can do? Fine. Fine. Attractive.
Your overbearing nature is wildly attractive. Happy? Getting there. He kissed her neck.
Keep going. You’re impossible. And yet, you’re still here. She pulled back to look at him, her expression turning serious.
Yeah, I am. That’s still weird for me sometimes. Weird how?
Weird like I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.
For you to realize I’m too complicated or damaged or stop.
He cuped her face gently. We’ve talked about this. You’re not too anything.
You’re exactly right. You’re biased. Extremely, and I’m okay with that.
He kissed her forehead. Besides, you promised to stop running, remember?
I remember. Doesn’t mean the urge goes away completely. But you stay anyway.
That’s what matters. Zoe leaned her forehead against his. I met with Rachel last week from Singapore.
I know. How did it go? She offered me a consulting position, independent contractor, helping her firm with Korean market expansions.
Zoe bit her lip. It’s a good opportunity, really good, but it would mean stepping back from being your assistant.
Jiwan was quiet for a moment, and Zoe held her breath, waiting for his reaction.
Finally, he said, “You should take it.” Really? Really? You’re too talented to be scheduling my meetings and managing my calendar forever.
You should be building something for yourself. But what about us?
The fake fiance thing for business meetings can become a real fiance thing if you want.
He said it casually, but Zoe could feel the tension in his body.
Or we can just tell people the truth that we’re together.
No pretending necessary. Giwan, I know it’s fast. I know we’re still figuring this out, but I also know I don’t want to hide what we are anymore.
He met her eyes. Unless you do. No, I don’t want to hide either.
She smiled. But maybe we ease into the public announcement.
I’d rather not deal with Sora’s inevitable meltdown just yet.
Fair enough. Although, for what it’s worth, Sora got engaged last month to some CEO from Jedjedu.
Apparently, she’s very happy. Good for her. Maybe she found someone who actually wants the polished, perfect girlfriend experience.
And I found someone who keeps me on my toes and calls me out when I’m being an ass.
You’re welcome. She kissed him again deeper this time. So, we’re really doing this?
Going public? Making this real? It’s already real. Has been since the moment you slept Sora back and didn’t even flinch.
He grinned. That’s when I knew you were different. Because I hit your ex-girlfriend.
Because you stood up for yourself without asking permission or apologizing.
You just were yourself. Completely unapologetically yourself. He tucked her hair behind her ear.
That’s what I fell for. Not the assistant, not the fake fiance, just you.
Zoe felt her throat tighten with emotion. You’re making it really hard to maintain my cool, detached persona here.
Good. I like you better when you’re not hiding. I’m not good at this, at being vulnerable and open and all that relationship stuff.
Neither am I. We’ll figure it out together. He stood, lifting her with him.
Now, as your boss for approximately two more weeks until you officially quit, I’m giving you the rest of the day off.
Why? Because we’re going to celebrate your new job. And because I want to take my girlfriend on an actual date, not a business dinner, not a fake public appearance, a real date where we can just be us.
Where are we going? It’s a surprise. Two hours later, Zoe found herself at a street food market in Maongdong, surrounded by the smell of tea balky and hot, the sound of vendors calling out their specials, the organized chaos of people and life and normaly.
This is your idea of celebration? She asked, but she was smiling.
You said once that you missed this, the streets, the energy, the feeling of being anonymous in a crowd.
Jiwan bought them both skewers of Odang. Thought we could be anonymous together for a few hours.
Zoe looked at him. This powerful man who controlled so much of Soul’s underground operations, standing in a crowded market, eating street food like it was the most natural thing in the world.
And she felt something crack open in her chest. Something warm and terrifying and absolutely right.
I love you, she said suddenly. The words surprised her as much as they surprised him.
Giwan nearly dropped his skewer. What? I love you. She said it again, more confidently this time.
I know it’s fast and probably crazy and definitely complicated, but I do.
I love you, and I needed to say it before I lost my nerve.
He set down his food, pulled her close, and kissed her right there in the middle of the crowded market.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes were bright. I love you, too.
Have for weeks, actually. Was just waiting for you to catch up.
Arrogant. Accurate. He kissed her again. Say it one more time.
I love you again. I love you, Park Jiwan. Even though you’re overbearing and controlling and made me wear uncomfortable heels to business dinners.
He laughed, the sound full and genuine and happy. I’ll take it.
They spent the rest of the evening wandering through the market, eating too much food, laughing at nothing, and simply existing together without rolls or pretenses or walls between them.
And when they finally headed home, walking hand in hand through the soul streets, Zoe realized she wasn’t thinking about running anymore.
She was thinking about staying, about building something real with someone who saw all her broken pieces and loved her anyway, about the consulting job and the future and all the possibilities that came with finally stopping long enough to let life catch up with her.
“What are you thinking about?” Giwan asked as they rode the elevator up to the penthouse.
“That I’m glad I took this job. That I’m glad Sora slapped me because it led to me slapping her back, which apparently was your romantic awakening.
It wasn’t the slapping, it was the attitude. Same difference.
She leaned against him. I’m also thinking that I’m happy.
Actually, genuinely happy. And I haven’t been able to say that in a long time.
He wrapped his arms around her. Good. You deserve to be happy.
So do you. I am. Trust me, I very much am.
When they reached the penthouse, Zoe kicked off her shoes immediately, a habit she’d never broken and collapsed on the couch.
Giwan joined her, pulling her against his side. So, he said after a moment, “Consulting work starts next month.
What are you going to do with your two weeks of freedom?”
Sleep a lot. Maybe binge watch that series everyone keeps talking about.
Possibly reorganize your entire kitchen because the way you store your dishes is chaotic and offensive.
My kitchen is fine. Your kitchen is a disaster. Mugs don’t go next to pots.
Gan, that’s just wrong. You’re the only person I know who has strong opinions about kitchen organization.
You’re dating a woman with trauma and control issues. Kitchen organization is literally the least surprising thing about me.
He kissed the top of her head. Fair point. They sat in comfortable silence for a while.
Zoe’s fingers tracing absent patterns on his arm. Giwan’s hand running through her hair.
Finally, Zoe spoke, her voice soft. Thank you for what?
For being patient. For not giving up when I was difficult.
For protecting me even when I said I didn’t need it.
She looked up at him for seeing me always. He tilted her chin up and kissed her gently.
You’re worth the patience. Worth the wait. Worth everything. And sitting there in the penthouse where everything had started, where a scared woman had walked in wearing professional armor and slowly let it fall away.
Where a man who’d been told his entire life he was too much had finally found someone who made him feel like he was exactly enough.
They both knew they’d found something rare, something real, something worth fighting for.
I’m still going to panic sometimes, Zoe warned. I know.
And I’m still going to want to run when things get hard.
I know that, too. And I’m definitely going to reorganize your kitchen whether you like it or not.
I’m counting on it. He smiled. Just promise me one thing.
What? When you panic, when you want to run, when everything feels like too much, talk to me first.
Give me a chance to remind you why you stayed.
Zoe was quiet for a moment, then nodded. I can do that.
I can try. That’s all I’m asking. And as they sat there watching the city lights flicker on across Soul, both of them broken in their own ways, but healing together, they knew it was enough.
They were enough. If you loved watching Zoe and Giwan find each other against all odds, smash that like button.
Drop a comment telling me your favorite moment. Was it when Zoe slapped Sora back twice?
When Jiwan first confessed his feelings, or that final street market date?
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