Rain still lingered over Seoul the next morning, soft and gray. The city lights blinked through the mist like tired eyes. Sophia stared out from the car window as it rolled toward Han Corp headquarters, her thoughts still replaying the words from the night before.
No one touches what’s mine.
They shouldn’t have meant anything. Yet her heart refused to forget.
When she entered Ethan’s office, he was already there, sleeves rolled up, voice crisp on a conference call. The air between them was brittle; neither mentioned the gala.
She placed new project files on his desk. “Your mother asked for approval before noon.”
He nodded without looking up. “Leave it there.”
Silence again. Sophia turned to leave—
“Wait,” he said quietly.
She froze.
Ethan lowered the phone. “About last night—”
The door burst open before he could finish. The woman who stepped in carried her own weather: perfume, confidence, and danger.
Luna Wei.
Tall, elegant, draped in crimson silk. Her smile was the kind that promised sweetness before the poison.
“Ethan,” she purred. “It’s been a long time.”
Sophia’s pulse stumbled. This is her.
Ethan stood slowly, his face unreadable. “Miss Wei. You should’ve scheduled an appointment.”
“Oh, come now.” Luna’s laugh chimed like glass. “We were engaged once. Do I really need an appointment to see my old love?”
Sophia felt every pair of eyes in the room flick toward her. She smiled politely, the picture of restraint.
“Mr. Han,” she said evenly, “I’ll wait outside.”
But Ethan’s voice stopped her. “Stay.”
Luna’s brow arched. “Ah, the famous wife. Sophia Lin, wasn’t it? The papers called you the ‘charity bride.’”
Sophia met her gaze steadily. “Better charity than cruelty, Miss Wei.”
For a split second, the smile slipped from Luna’s face. Ethan noticed, and some small, cold satisfaction flickered in his eyes.
Luna recovered, turning to Ethan. “I came to discuss business. My father and I plan to invest in Han Corp’s new expansion. Consider it… a reunion gift.”
Ethan’s voice was ice. “Han Corp doesn’t accept gifts. Especially from the Weis.”
Luna stepped closer, her perfume filling the space between them.
“Careful, Ethan. You might need me again. After all, no one knows your weaknesses better than I do.”
Her hand brushed his sleeve—subtle, possessive.
Sophia’s chest tightened. The sight shouldn’t have hurt; it still did.
“그 손 치워.” (Remove your hand.)
Ethan’s tone dropped to steel.
Luna froze, then laughed softly. “So cold. Just like before.” She turned toward Sophia, eyes glinting. “Enjoy the frost, Mrs. Han. It never melts for long.”
She left, heels clicking against marble. The door shut, leaving thunder in her wake.
That evening, the mansion felt larger than usual. Sophia stood on the balcony, the wind tugging at her hair. Somewhere below, the city buzzed—oblivious to broken hearts.
She heard Ethan’s footsteps before she saw him.
“She shouldn’t have come,” he said simply.
“She’s part of your past,” Sophia replied. “You don’t have to explain.”
“But I will.” He leaned against the railing beside her. “Luna and I—what we had ended years ago. She wanted power, not love.”
Sophia glanced up at him. “Then why does she still have power over you?”
His jaw clenched. “Because she knows how to hit where it hurts.”
For a long moment they stood silent, the city breathing beneath them. Then Sophia spoke softly,
“我听见她说要毁掉我们 (Wǒ tīngjiàn tā shuō yào huǐdiào wǒmen) — I heard her say she’ll destroy us.”
Ethan turned sharply. “You heard that?”
“In the corridor,” she admitted. “She told her assistant she’ll prove you never stopped wanting her… by making me leave.”
His eyes darkened. “She’s playing a dangerous game.”
“And what about me?” Sophia asked quietly. “Am I just another piece on your board?”
He faced her fully then. “You were never a piece.”
The words struck her like sunlight through frost. For a heartbeat, warmth touched his eyes—real, unguarded. She stepped closer without thinking, the distance between them dissolving like breath on glass.
Ethan lifted a hand, almost touching her cheek. “Sophia…”
Her heart thundered. “Ethan.”
Their names hung between them, trembling with what neither dared to say.
Then his phone vibrated. He looked at the screen—Luna Wei.
He silenced it immediately, but the spell broke.
Sophia’s voice came out as a whisper. “Go ahead. She’s waiting.”
He shook his head. “Not tonight.”
But she was already walking away. “Goodnight, Mr. Han.”
When she reached the corridor, she paused by the half-open study door. Luna’s voice drifted from the speakerphone inside, smooth and venomous:
> “Tomorrow, I’ll make sure the world questions your little wife’s loyalty. Let’s see how long the contract bride survives the storm.”
Sophia’s hands trembled. So it’s war.
Downstairs, the rain started again, harder this time—like the sky warning them both.
In the silence of the mansion, Ethan looked toward the empty hallway where Sophia had stood moments ago and whispered under his breath,
“이젠 내가 널 지켜야 해.” (Now I have to protect you.)
But he didn’t yet realize—
Protecting would mean destroying the walls that kept his heart alive.
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