Rain hammered against the glass walls of Haneul Group’s executive tower while Seoul drowned beneath midnight lights.
Inside the thirty-seventh-floor boardroom, Seo Jiwon stood perfectly still.
Black suit.
Silver watch.
Expression carved from ice.
The executives seated around the table avoided eye contact.
Because whenever Seo Jiwon became quiet...
Someone usually lost their job.
A presentation screen displayed declining stock charts.
Red numbers.
Investor withdrawals.
News headlines.
“Haneul Fashion Division Faces Bankruptcy.”
Director Han slowly removed his glasses.
Age had softened his face but not his instincts.
He looked at Jiwon carefully.
“You promised recovery by the fourth quarter.”
Jiwon answered calmly.
“And I’ll deliver it.”
One executive scoffed.
“With what? Miracles?”
Jiwon turned toward him.
Just once.
That was enough to silence the room.
He had that effect on people.
Cold brilliance.
Sharp discipline.
The terrifying ability to remain composed while everyone else panicked.
But tonight...
Even Seo Jiwon looked exhausted.
Director Han leaned back slowly.
“The investors want publicity.”
Jiwon’s jaw tightened.
“Publicity doesn’t save companies.”
“No,” Director Han replied softly.
“But people do.”
The old chairman slid a tablet across the table.
A photograph appeared on screen.
Kang Areum.
Founder of Areum Atelier.
A rising luxury designer brand currently collapsing beneath debt.
Jiwon frowned immediately.
“The woman who publicly insulted Haneul last year?”
Director Han smiled faintly.
“She also tripled online sales after that interview.”
Another executive looked confused.
“Why are we discussing her?”
Director Han folded his hands.
“Because starting next month, Seo Jiwon and Kang Areum will be engaged.”
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Jiwon stared at him.
No reaction.
Which somehow made the atmosphere more dangerous.
Finally:
“No.”
Director Han looked amused.
“It’s not a request.”
Jiwon stood slowly.
“You want me to fake a marriage for stock prices?”
“A strategic engagement.”
“That sounds like prostitution with press coverage.”
Several executives nearly choked.
Director Han laughed softly.
“Your honesty is refreshing.”
Jiwon grabbed his coat.
“I’m not doing it.”
“Then Haneul Fashion Division disappears within six months.”
That stopped him.
The chairman’s voice lowered.
“And Kang Areum’s company disappears even sooner.”
Rain rolled down the windows like tears.
Jiwon remained still.
Because he understood exactly what this was.
A corporate performance.
A romantic spectacle.
A business merger disguised as love.
Disgusting.
But necessary.
Director Han spoke quietly.
“Sometimes survival requires humiliation.”
Jiwon slowly looked toward the city lights.
And somewhere far below...
Completely unaware...
Kang Areum was about to become the biggest complication of his life.
Kang Areum hated rich people.
Especially this hotel.
Crystal chandeliers hung above luxury banquet tables while executives drank champagne worth more than her monthly rent.
Meanwhile, Kang Areum stood in the center of the ballroom arguing with a supplier who wanted immediate payment.
“I already told you,” she whispered sharply, “I need one more month.”
“You said that last month.”
“I’m negotiating investors.”
“You’re negotiating bankruptcy.”
Humiliation burned her face.
Around them, wealthy guests pretended not to stare.
Areum forced herself to smile.
“I’ll pay everything.”
“With what money?”
No answer.
Because there wasn’t one.
The supplier walked away coldly.
Areum remained frozen beneath glittering chandeliers while embarrassment crawled beneath her skin.
Luxury spaces always made poverty feel louder somehow.
She exhaled shakily.
Then reached for another champagne glass she absolutely could not afford emotionally.
“Careful,” a voice said beside her.
“People start confessing crimes after their third drink here.”
Areum turned.
And immediately frowned.
Tall.
Elegant.
Cold expression.
The man beside her looked painfully expensive.
His black suit fit too perfectly.
His posture screamed elite education.
His face belonged on magazine covers executives pretended not to enjoy.
Areum narrowed her eyes.
“You look like generational wealth.”
One eyebrow lifted slightly.
“That’s an interesting insult.”
“It wasn’t an insult.”
“It definitely was.”
She drank the champagne anyway.
The stranger watched her carefully.
“You hate being here.”
“Obviously.”
“Then why come?”
Areum laughed softly.
“Because struggling artists occasionally need rich people to survive.”
The honesty surprised him.
Most people lied elegantly at events like this.
But Kang Areum looked exhausted enough to tell the truth.
Something about that interested him immediately.
“You’re Kang Areum,” he said.
She blinked.
“That sounded judgmental.”
“I’ve heard about you.”
“Good things or corporate propaganda?”
“A mixture.”
She smiled faintly.
And unexpectedly...
Seo Jiwon forgot about the collapsing company waiting for him upstairs.
Because suddenly this conversation felt strangely alive.
Then Areum asked:
“And who are you?”
Before he could answer, Director Han appeared beside them smiling like a man enjoying chaos.
“Perfect,” the chairman announced.
Both looked confused.
Director Han placed a hand on each of their shoulders.
“You’ve already met.”
Jiwon’s expression darkened immediately.
Areum frowned.
“What’s happening?”
Director Han smiled warmly.
“Congratulations on your engagement.”
The champagne glass slipped from Areum’s hand.
And shattered across the marble floor.
“What?”
The word echoed through the ballroom.
Several guests turned immediately.
Director Han maintained his calm smile while Seo Jiwon looked like he wanted to resign from existence itself.
Areum stared between them.
“This is a joke, right?”
“No.”
Jiwon answered before Director Han could.
His tone sounded deeply exhausted.
Areum laughed once.
Sharp.
Incredulous.
“You rich people are actually insane.”
Director Han guided them toward a quieter hallway before reporters noticed.
The luxury hotel suddenly felt suffocating.
Soft piano music drifted from the ballroom while rain streaked across towering windows.
Director Han folded his hands.
“Both your companies are collapsing.”
Areum crossed her arms immediately.
“My company is temporarily struggling.”
“Your landlord filed legal action yesterday.”
Silence.
Jiwon glanced toward her automatically.
She looked embarrassed for exactly half a second before anger replaced it.
Director Han continued.
“Haneul Fashion Division needs public favor. Kang Areum’s brand needs investors.”
Areum blinked slowly.
“You want us to fake romance for publicity.”
“A modern strategic partnership.”
“That’s somehow worse.”
Jiwon rubbed his temples.
“No.”
Director Han looked at him.
“No?”
“I’m not turning my private life into a marketing campaign.”
The chairman smiled faintly.
“You don’t have a private life.”
That landed harder than expected.
Because it was true.
Seo Jiwon’s life consisted entirely of work.
Boardrooms.
Meetings.
Numbers.
Nothing warm.
Nothing real.
Director Han turned toward Areum.
“And your atelier closes within two months without funding.”
Her expression faltered.
That silence answered everything.
The chairman softened slightly.
“I know both of you hate this idea.”
“Hate is too gentle,” Areum muttered.
“But survival,” Director Han continued quietly, “sometimes requires unbearable decisions.”
Rain rattled softly against the windows.
Jiwon looked at Areum for the first time carefully.
She wore confidence like armor.
But exhaustion hid beneath it.
He recognized that look.
Because he saw it in mirrors every morning.
Director Han handed them both contracts.
“Six months.”
Areum stared.
“You already printed contracts?”
“I’m efficient.”
Jiwon sighed deeply.
“This is insane.”
“Probably,” Director Han admitted.
Then he smiled.
“But people love romance more than reality.”
Three days later, Seoul exploded.
“Haneul Executive Seo Jiwon Announces Engagement.”
“Designer Kang Areum To Join Haneul Family.”
“Business Romance Shocks Industry.”
Every news channel covered it.
Areum nearly threw her phone into the Han River.
Instead she sat inside a café glaring at headlines while rain blurred the city outside.
Across from her, Seo Jiwon calmly reviewed contract clauses like they weren’t discussing emotional disaster.
“How are you this calm?” she demanded.
“I’m not calm.”
“You look calm.”
“That’s because panicking publicly solves nothing.”
Areum narrowed her eyes.
“You’re emotionally suspicious.”
Jiwon finally looked up.
“And you’re loud.”
“Wow. The chemistry here is horrifying.”
A faint smile almost appeared.
Almost.
The waitress placed coffee between them awkwardly after recognizing their faces from news articles.
Areum buried herself in embarrassment.
“This entire thing feels humiliating.”
Jiwon stirred his coffee quietly.
“It is.”
That honesty surprised her.
For several seconds silence settled between them.
Warm café lights glowed softly around rain-soaked windows.
Outside, Seoul moved endlessly.
Inside, two strangers prepared to ruin each other’s lives professionally and emotionally.
Jiwon finally slid a paper across the table.
“Rules.”
Areum blinked.
“You made relationship rules?”
“I prefer structure.”
She read aloud dramatically.
“Rule one: no emotional attachment.”
Jiwon sipped coffee.
“Reasonable.”
“Rule two: maintain believable physical closeness during public appearances.”
She looked up slowly.
“That sentence feels threatening.”
“It’s practical.”
“Are you always this romantic?”
“No.”
“Good. I was worried for humanity.”
A dangerous pause followed.
Then Jiwon added quietly:
“There’s another rule.”
“What?”
“Don’t lie to me.”
The seriousness in his voice surprised her.
Something flickered briefly across his expression.
Pain.
Old pain.
Gone instantly.
But Areum noticed.
And suddenly Seo Jiwon became slightly more interesting.
The restaurant overlooked the Seoul skyline like something from a dream.
Glass walls.
Golden candlelight.
Soft jazz.
Every table held someone wealthy enough to pretend they weren’t staring at Seo Jiwon and Kang Areum.
Areum smiled through clenched teeth.
“I hate rich people restaurants.”
Jiwon adjusted his tie.
“You’ve mentioned that seventeen times.”
“Because it remains true.”
Photographers flashed cameras outside the windows.
Tomorrow every entertainment site would analyze their fake relationship.
Areum wanted to disappear.
Instead she picked up the wine menu aggressively.
Jiwon watched her quietly.
“You’re nervous.”
“I’m homicidal.”
“That too.”
The waiter approached.
“Would the engaged couple like champagne?”
Both froze slightly.
Engaged couple.
The phrase felt strange.
Too intimate.
Too dangerous.
Areum recovered first.
“Yes please. The expensive one. Since my fake fiancé is paying.”
The waiter laughed nervously before leaving.
Jiwon looked at her.
“You’re enjoying financially punishing me.”
“Absolutely.”
A faint smile appeared finally.
Small.
Unexpected.
Areum blinked.
Seo Jiwon smiling felt illegal somehow.
He noticed her staring.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That sounded suspicious.”
“You look less terrifying when you smile.”
His expression immediately returned to neutral.
“Never mind,” she sighed. “The serial killer energy is back.”
To her shock...
Jiwon laughed.
Actually laughed.
Soft.
Low.
Warm enough to alter the atmosphere around them.
For one terrifying second...
Areum forgot this relationship was fake.
Then cameras flashed again outside.
Reality returned immediately.
The waiter poured champagne while reporters watched from below.
Jiwon leaned slightly closer.
“Relax your shoulders.”
“What?”
“You look like you’re attending a funeral.”
“I am. My dignity died three days ago.”
His lips twitched again.
Areum stared.
“Oh no.”
“What?”
“You’re secretly funny.”
“That sounds accusatory.”
“It is.”
The candlelight softened his features unexpectedly.
Without the boardroom coldness...
Seo Jiwon looked lonely.
The realization unsettled her.
Because lonely people were dangerous.
They made you care accidentally.
And Kang Areum absolutely refused to care about her fake fiancé.
Absolutely.
Probably.
Later that night, rain flooded the streets.
Their driver got trapped in traffic.
Which left Kang Areum and Seo Jiwon standing beneath the hotel awning together while thunder rolled above Seoul.
Areum hugged herself against the cold.
Jiwon removed his coat silently.
Then placed it over her shoulders.
She blinked.
“That’s suspiciously considerate.”
“You’re shivering.”
“You noticed?”
“I notice everything.”
The words landed softly.
Dangerously softly.
Rain poured harder.
The city lights reflected gold across wet pavement.
For several seconds neither spoke.
Then Areum asked quietly:
“Why did you agree to this?”
Jiwon looked toward the storm.
“Haneul Fashion Division was my mother’s dream.”
The honesty surprised even him.
Areum’s expression softened immediately.
“You were close?”
A pause.
Then:
“She died when I was young.”
Something painful flickered through his eyes.
“After that, work became easier than people.”
Rain filled the silence afterward.
Areum suddenly understood something important.
Seo Jiwon wasn’t cold because he lacked feelings.
He was cold because feelings once destroyed him.
The realization settled quietly between them.
Then the driver arrived.
And neither noticed how difficult it suddenly became to look away from each other.
By the second week of the fake engagement, the internet became obsessed.
“Seo Jiwon Looks At Kang Areum Softly During Dinner Date.”
“Netizens Praise Unexpected Chemistry.”
“Business Romance Becoming Real?”
Areum nearly screamed reading comments at 2 AM.
Instead she stormed into Haneul headquarters the next morning carrying iced coffee and emotional violence.
Executives bowed instantly as she passed.
She hated it.
Luxury corporate offices always smelled like expensive stress.
Meanwhile Seo Jiwon stood inside a conference room delivering presentations with terrifying perfection.
Employees looked afraid to breathe incorrectly.
Areum watched through glass walls.
Annoyingly handsome.
Annoyingly competent.
Annoyingly composed.
It was deeply irritating.
One assistant approached nervously.
“Ms. Kang? Director Seo asked you to wait inside.”
Areum entered the boardroom dramatically.
“Your fans online are emotionally unstable.”
Jiwon didn’t look up from paperwork.
“They’re investors.”
“Same thing.”
A faint sigh escaped him.
“You’re loud in the morning.”
“You’re emotionally repressed in every time zone.”
One executive accidentally snorted.
The entire room froze.
Because Seo Jiwon hated interruptions.
But instead of anger...
He looked amused.
Which shocked everyone.
Areum noticed immediately.
Interesting.
The meeting ended quickly afterward.
As executives escaped, one woman lingered near the doorway.
Beautiful.
Elegant.
Cold smile.
She looked directly at Areum.
“So this is the fiancée.”
The atmosphere changed instantly.
Jiwon’s expression hardened.
“Yoon Sera.”
Areum raised an eyebrow.
“Should I be threatened by the attractive woman saying my title like an insult?”
Sera smiled politely.
“We were engaged once.”
Silence.
Areum slowly turned toward Jiwon.
“You forgot to mention the ex-fiancée?”
“It wasn’t relevant.”
“THAT feels relevant.”
Sera laughed softly.
“You’re more interesting than I expected.”
Then she walked away.
Leaving emotional destruction behind her like perfume.
Areum folded her arms.
“So.”
Jiwon looked exhausted already.
“So?”
“You collect fake engagements professionally?”
“It wasn’t fake.”
That surprised her.
Something dark crossed his expression briefly.
Then disappeared.
Areum’s teasing softened immediately.
“Oh.”
Jiwon closed the folder quietly.
“She left when my mother died.”
The room fell silent.
“She said grief made me impossible to love.”
Areum’s chest tightened unexpectedly.
Because his voice sounded calm.
Too calm.
The kind of calm people learn after surviving heartbreak alone.
She looked away first.
“Anyone who leaves during grief doesn’t deserve to stay afterward.”
Jiwon stared at her.
Something vulnerable flickered behind his composure.
Then his phone rang.
The moment vanished.
That night, Areum found herself standing alone on Haneul Tower’s rooftop.
Seoul glittered endlessly beneath cold wind and distant traffic.
She often escaped upward whenever life became too loud.
The city felt smaller from rooftops.
Manageable somehow.
The rooftop door opened quietly.
Jiwon stepped outside holding two cups of coffee.
Areum blinked.
“You followed me?”
“You forgot your phone downstairs.”
“Oh.”
He handed her coffee silently.
Warm steam curled into the night air.
For several minutes neither spoke.
Then Jiwon asked quietly:
“Why design?”
Areum looked toward the skyline.
“My mother made dresses.”
A small smile touched her lips.
“She used to say fabric remembers emotions.”
Jiwon listened carefully.
“After she died,” Areum continued softly, “I kept sewing because it felt like talking to her again.”
The honesty surprised them both.
Wind swept across the rooftop.
Jiwon looked at her carefully.
Kang Areum carried sadness differently than he did.
Not hidden.
Worn openly like sunlight after rain.
It made her beautiful in dangerous ways.
Then Areum suddenly laughed.
“What?” he asked.
“We’re having a dramatic rooftop bonding scene.”
“That sounds judgmental.”
“It is.”
To his surprise...
Jiwon smiled again.
And this time...
Neither looked away.
The scandal broke at dawn.
“Haneul Engagement Contract Leaked.”
Seoul exploded instantly.
News channels.
Entertainment sites.
Stock market panic.
Every headline screamed betrayal.
“FAKE ROMANCE FOR CORPORATE PROFIT?”
“SEO JIWON AND KANG AREUM CAUGHT IN CONTRACT ENGAGEMENT.”
Areum stared at her phone in horror while makeup artists panicked around her during a scheduled interview shoot.
“No no no no—”
Her manager looked seconds away from death.
Jiwon arrived twenty minutes later.
Calm.
Sharp suit.
Controlled expression.
Only his eyes betrayed anger.
Director Han waited inside the conference room looking deeply disappointed.
“Someone leaked the contract.”
Jiwon’s voice turned icy.
“I know.”
Areum paced furiously.
“My brand is getting destroyed online!”
Director Han looked serious now.
“You both need to deny everything publicly.”
Areum laughed incredulously.
“There are literally signatures.”
“Then convince people the feelings became real afterward.”
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Jiwon stared at the chairman.
“That’s your strategy?”
“People forgive fake beginnings if the emotions become believable.”
Areum pointed dramatically.
“That sentence belongs in prison.”
But outside the conference room...
Reporters already gathered.
Cameras flashed endlessly.
The world waited.
Jiwon finally looked at Areum.
For the first time since meeting...
He looked uncertain.
“Can you do this?”
The question surprised her.
Not because he asked.
Because he sounded genuinely concerned.
Areum swallowed slowly.
Then nodded.
“Let’s survive first.”
The press conference became national television.
Microphones crowded the stage while reporters shouted questions.
Areum’s heartbeat nearly exploded.
Beside her, Seo Jiwon remained impossibly composed.
“How long have you been lying to the public?”
“Was the engagement entirely financial?”
“Are your feelings real?”
The final question silenced the room.
Areum froze.
Jiwon looked toward her briefly.
Something unreadable passed between them.
Then he answered calmly:
“It started as business.”
Whispers erupted instantly.
“But somewhere along the way...”
His voice softened unexpectedly.
“She became important to me.”
Areum forgot how to breathe.
Because suddenly the room disappeared.
Only his eyes remained.
Warm.
Honest.
Terrifying.
The reporters exploded with questions again.
But Areum barely heard them.
Because one horrifying possibility suddenly existed.
What if Seo Jiwon wasn’t acting anymore?
And worse...
What if she wasn’t either?
Rain followed them after the press conference.
Heavy.
Cold.
Unforgiving.
Areum escaped toward the Han River because she couldn’t breathe inside buildings anymore.
The city lights shimmered across dark water while distant traffic hummed softly.
She stood beneath a bridge alone.
Or thought she was alone.
“You disappear dramatically,” Jiwon said behind her.
Areum startled.
“Do you track me professionally now?”
“You left your umbrella.”
He held it out quietly.
Rain soaked both of them anyway.
For several seconds neither spoke.
Then Areum asked softly:
“Did you mean it?”
Jiwon’s expression shifted.
“The press conference.”
Silence.
Rain filled the space between them.
Finally:
“Yes.”
The answer came too quickly.
Too honestly.
Areum’s chest tightened painfully.
Jiwon looked toward the river.
“When this started, I thought you were reckless.”
“That’s romantic.”
“You still are.”
A faint smile appeared.
Then vanished.
“But you’re also kind.”
The honesty in his voice made her heartbeat uneven.
“You stay when people struggle. You laugh when you’re scared. You pretend confidence even while falling apart.”
Areum stared at him.
Because nobody noticed things about her that carefully.
Not anymore.
Jiwon stepped slightly closer.
“Being with you stopped feeling fake a long time ago.”
The rain softened around them.
The city disappeared into blurred gold reflections.
And Kang Areum realized something terrifying.
She wanted him to kiss her.
Badly.
Jiwon’s gaze lowered briefly toward her lips.
The tension became unbearable.
Then his phone rang.
Director Han.
Reality shattered instantly.
Jiwon answered.
His expression darkened immediately.
“What?”
A pause.
Then:
“Who leaked it?”
Areum’s heartbeat slowed.
Because suddenly something felt wrong.
Very wrong.
Jiwon disconnected slowly.
His face had gone pale.
“What happened?”
He looked at her.
And for the first time...
Seo Jiwon looked afraid.
“It was someone inside your company.”
The world stopped.
Areum stared at him.
“No.”
Jiwon’s voice lowered.
“Your manager sold the contract to reporters.”
The betrayal hit like physical pain.
Because suddenly the one person she trusted professionally...
Had destroyed everything.
Areum confronted her manager that same night.
The office lights remained dim while rain battered the studio windows.
“Tell me it’s not true.”
Her manager looked exhausted.
Ashamed.
Cornered.
“They offered money.”
Areum’s chest tightened.
“How much?”
Silence.
That silence broke her.
Because it meant the number mattered more than loyalty.
Tears burned suddenly.
“I trusted you.”
“I was trying to save the company!”
“By destroying me?”
Her voice cracked sharply.
The sewing machines around them stood silent like witnesses.
“I built this place with you,” Areum whispered.
“And you sold me to reporters.”
Her manager looked guilty.
But guilt came too late.
Way too late.
The studio suddenly felt unbearable.
Areum grabbed her coat and left before she completely fell apart.
Outside, Seoul drowned beneath storm clouds.
She wandered aimlessly through rain-soaked streets while emotions collapsed inside her chest.
Humiliation.
Exhaustion.
Loneliness.
And somewhere beneath everything...
Fear.
Because Seo Jiwon had become important.
Dangerously important.
Her phone vibrated repeatedly.
Jiwon.
She ignored every call.
Not because she was angry.
Because hearing his voice right now might make her cry.
And Kang Areum hated crying in front of people.
Especially him.
For the first time since the engagement began...
They avoided each other.
Meetings became formal.
Texts became brief.
Public appearances felt strained.
The media noticed immediately.
“Trouble In Paradise?”
“Seo Jiwon And Kang Areum Growing Distant?”
Areum hated how much it hurt.
Because this relationship wasn’t supposed to matter.
It was supposed to be temporary.
Strategic.
Controlled.
So why did Seoul suddenly feel emptier without him nearby?
Meanwhile Seo Jiwon sat alone inside his office staring at untouched coffee.
Rain crawled down the windows.
A memory surfaced unexpectedly.
Young Jiwon waiting outside school in winter.
Everyone else picked up by family.
But not him.
Always work first.
Always business first.
Eventually he stopped expecting people to stay.
Then Kang Areum arrived loudly into his life carrying chaos and warmth.
And now losing her felt unbearable.
He hated that.
Because emotions made people weak.
His father taught him that repeatedly.
But for the first time...
Seo Jiwon wanted weakness.
If weakness looked like Kang Areum smiling at him.
It started with ramen.
Areum stood outside a convenience store at midnight debating instant noodles emotionally when someone appeared beside her.
“You’re eating sadness again.”
She froze.
Jiwon.
Dark coat.
Tired eyes.
Coffee in hand.
Seoul glowed quietly behind him.
Areum looked away quickly.
“You’re stalking me.”
“You always come here when stressed.”
“That’s somehow worse.”
Silence settled softly.
Then Jiwon held out coffee.
Her favorite.
Areum stared.
“You remembered?”
“I remember everything about you.”
The sentence hit dangerously hard.
She accepted the coffee slowly.
Warmth spread through cold fingers.
For several minutes they walked beside quiet streets together.
No cameras.
No reporters.
No pretending.
Just footsteps beneath city lights.
Then Jiwon stopped suddenly.
“Look at me.”
Areum did.
And immediately regretted it.
Because Seo Jiwon looked heartbreakingly sincere.
“I’m not good with emotions,” he admitted quietly.
“That sounds medically obvious.”
A faint laugh escaped him.
Then seriousness returned.
“But losing you this week felt...”
He struggled for words.
Pain flickered briefly across his expression.
“Wrong.”
The honesty shattered her completely.
Because Seo Jiwon didn’t speak carelessly.
If he said something...
He meant it.
Areum’s eyes became glossy instantly.
“You’re unfair,” she whispered.
“Why?”
“Because you say emotional things so quietly.”
Rain began falling again.
Soft this time.
Jiwon stepped closer.
Then carefully brushed wet hair away from her face.
His fingers lingered.
Both stopped breathing.
The city disappeared around them.
Only this moment remained.
Then Areum whispered:
“We’re in trouble.”
Jiwon’s gaze softened.
“I know.”
And finally...
He kissed her.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Like someone terrified of breaking something precious.
Rain fell softly around Seoul while Kang Areum realized her fake fiancé had completely ruined her life emotionally.
Because nothing about this felt fake anymore.
The kiss changed everything.
And absolutely nothing.
Publicly, they remained the same glamorous engaged couple.
Privately...
The tension became unbearable.
Every glance lasted too long.
Every accidental touch felt dangerous.
Areum became hyperaware of Seo Jiwon constantly.
The way he loosened his tie when tired.
The way his voice softened near her.
The way he watched her during meetings like she was the only thing worth paying attention to.
It was deeply inconvenient.
Meanwhile Jiwon looked calmer lately.
Employees noticed immediately.
“Director Seo smiled yesterday.”
“Twice.”
“Should we call emergency services?”
Areum overheard and nearly died laughing.
Jiwon remained deeply offended.
“I smile regularly.”
“No,” Areum replied. “You threaten elegantly.”
To her satisfaction...
He laughed again.
Warm.
Real.
And suddenly the office no longer felt cold.
The truth arrived at midnight.
Director Han summoned Jiwon alone.
The chairman looked older somehow.
Tired.
Guilty.
“What I’m about to tell you stays here.”
Jiwon frowned.
“That sentence never leads anywhere good.”
Director Han slid documents across the desk.
Jiwon read silently.
Then froze.
No.
Impossible.
His hands tightened.
“The company accident fifteen years ago...” Director Han whispered.
“Your father caused it.”
Jiwon’s world tilted.
Because that accident killed his mother.
The official report blamed mechanical failure.
But the documents revealed something horrifying.
Neglected safety inspections.
Corruption.
Intentional coverups.
His father knew.
And buried everything.
Jiwon looked shattered.
For the first time in years...
His composure completely disappeared.
Director Han’s voice trembled slightly.
“I tried to expose it then. I failed.”
Jiwon stared at the documents like they were poison.
Everything inside him collapsed quietly.
His grief.
His childhood.
His loneliness.
Built on lies.
And suddenly...
Seo Jiwon no longer knew who he was.
Areum found him on the rooftop.
Rain poured violently across Seoul while Jiwon stood motionless near the edge.
His suit soaked completely.
“Jiwon!”
No response.
She ran toward him immediately.
“Are you insane?”
Finally he looked at her.
And Areum’s chest shattered.
Because Seo Jiwon looked broken.
Not tired.
Not cold.
Broken.
She stepped closer carefully.
“What happened?”
His voice emerged barely above rain.
“My father killed her.”
Areum froze.
Jiwon laughed once.
Sharp.
Empty.
“I spent my entire life becoming him.”
Pain poured from him now uncontrollably.
“He destroyed my mother and I still worked for his company like some obedient machine.”
Areum’s eyes filled instantly.
Because grief looked unbearable on Seo Jiwon.
He looked lost.
Like a child abandoned inside a storm.
Without hesitation she hugged him.
Tightly.
Rain soaked them both.
At first he remained frozen.
Then suddenly...
Seo Jiwon collapsed against her.
Years of loneliness finally breaking open.
And Kang Areum held him through all of it.
The scandal returned worse than before.
This time involving corruption investigations.
Investors panicked.
Reporters attacked relentlessly.
Jiwon disappeared from public view.
Then one morning...
Areum received an envelope.
Inside:
The engagement contract.
Signed termination papers.
And one handwritten note.
“I love you enough to leave.
— Jiwon”
Her world stopped.
No.
No.
She called endlessly.
No answer.
Visited his office.
Empty.
The penthouse.
Gone.
Seo Jiwon disappeared completely.
And for the first time since childhood...
Kang Areum felt truly abandoned.
Winter arrived quietly.
Snow covered Seoul in soft silence.
Areum kept working.
Kept breathing.
Kept surviving.
But nothing felt warm anymore.
Then Director Han visited her studio unexpectedly.
“He’s in Busan.”
Her heartbeat stopped.
“What?”
The chairman smiled sadly.
“He left everything behind.”
Hours later, Areum stood beside the ocean.
Cold wind.
Grey skies.
Waves crashing endlessly.
And there he was.
Seo Jiwon.
Working inside a small seaside café.
For several seconds she simply stared.
He looked thinner.
Softer somehow.
Human.
Jiwon turned.
And froze completely.
“Areum?”
Her eyes filled instantly.
“You absolute idiot.”
Pain flashed across his face.
“I thought leaving would protect you.”
“Who protects you?”
The same question.
Again.
And suddenly Seo Jiwon realized something terrifying.
Home was standing in front of him wearing tears and anger and ocean wind.
Home was Kang Areum.
Snow began falling softly beside the ocean.
Jiwon stepped closer slowly.
“Why did you come?”
Areum laughed through tears.
“Because you’re an emotionally repressed disaster and somebody has to supervise you.”
To his shock...
He laughed.
Then immediately looked emotional afterward.
Areum’s voice softened.
“You don’t get to disappear whenever life hurts.”
“I didn’t know how to stay.”
The honesty shattered her.
She moved closer.
Then closer again.
Until only inches remained.
“I love you,” she whispered.
Jiwon closed his eyes briefly like the words physically hurt.
“I tried not to love you.”
His voice cracked.
“But you became every good thing in my life.”
Areum started crying openly.
And finally...
Seo Jiwon kissed her like someone returning home after years lost.
The ocean roared softly around them.
Snow drifted through cold air.
And somewhere between fake promises and real heartbreak...
They found each other completely.
Spring transformed Seoul beautifully.
Haneul Fashion Division recovered under new leadership.
Corruption investigations destroyed Seo Jiwon’s father publicly.
And Kang Areum?
Her designs became internationally famous.
But success mattered less now.
Because every morning...
Seo Jiwon stood inside her kitchen making coffee badly.
Domesticity looked absurdly attractive on him.
Areum enjoyed teasing him professionally.
One rainy evening, they returned to the Han River together.
City lights shimmered across dark water while cherry blossoms drifted softly around them.
Jiwon stopped walking suddenly.
Areum frowned.
“What?”
He looked strangely nervous.
Which immediately frightened her.
“Why do you look like you’re negotiating with God?”
Instead of answering...
Seo Jiwon knelt slowly.
Areum stopped breathing.
Rain fell gently around them.
Jiwon held out a ring.
This time...
No contracts.
No cameras.
No fake promises.
Only love.
His voice softened.
“Kang Areum.”
Emotion trembled behind his composure.
“You turned survival into living again.”
Her eyes filled instantly.
“And I want every version of my future to include you.”
The Han River blurred behind tears.
“Will you marry me?”
Areum laughed while crying simultaneously.
“Your proposals are emotionally aggressive.”
A nervous smile appeared.
Then she whispered:
“Yes.”
And beneath the rain-soaked Seoul sky...
Seo Jiwon kissed Kang Areum while the city glittered endlessly around them.
Not like strangers pretending anymore.
But like two wounded people who taught each other how to stay.
Three years later, Seoul called them the power couple who accidentally became real.
Magazine covers.
Luxury campaigns.
Fashion awards.
But their favorite place remained small.
A quiet riverside café where no reporters bothered them.
Every rainy weekend, Areum sketched designs beside the window while Jiwon pretended not to watch her lovingly.
He failed every time.
One evening she caught him staring.
“What?”
Jiwon smiled softly.
“You still feel unreal sometimes.”
Her chest melted instantly.
“That was disgustingly romantic.”
“I’m improving.”
“Slowly.”
He laughed quietly.
Warm.
Peaceful.
Outside, rain whispered softly against Seoul.
Inside the café, candlelight glowed around two people who began as a contract...
And became home instead.
The End.
Inside the thirty-seventh-floor boardroom, Seo Jiwon stood perfectly still.
Black suit.
Silver watch.
Expression carved from ice.
The executives seated around the table avoided eye contact.
Because whenever Seo Jiwon became quiet...
Someone usually lost their job.
A presentation screen displayed declining stock charts.
Red numbers.
Investor withdrawals.
News headlines.
“Haneul Fashion Division Faces Bankruptcy.”
Director Han slowly removed his glasses.
Age had softened his face but not his instincts.
He looked at Jiwon carefully.
“You promised recovery by the fourth quarter.”
Jiwon answered calmly.
“And I’ll deliver it.”
One executive scoffed.
“With what? Miracles?”
Jiwon turned toward him.
Just once.
That was enough to silence the room.
He had that effect on people.
Cold brilliance.
Sharp discipline.
The terrifying ability to remain composed while everyone else panicked.
But tonight...
Even Seo Jiwon looked exhausted.
Director Han leaned back slowly.
“The investors want publicity.”
Jiwon’s jaw tightened.
“Publicity doesn’t save companies.”
“No,” Director Han replied softly.
“But people do.”
The old chairman slid a tablet across the table.
A photograph appeared on screen.
Kang Areum.
Founder of Areum Atelier.
A rising luxury designer brand currently collapsing beneath debt.
Jiwon frowned immediately.
“The woman who publicly insulted Haneul last year?”
Director Han smiled faintly.
“She also tripled online sales after that interview.”
Another executive looked confused.
“Why are we discussing her?”
Director Han folded his hands.
“Because starting next month, Seo Jiwon and Kang Areum will be engaged.”
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Jiwon stared at him.
No reaction.
Which somehow made the atmosphere more dangerous.
Finally:
“No.”
Director Han looked amused.
“It’s not a request.”
Jiwon stood slowly.
“You want me to fake a marriage for stock prices?”
“A strategic engagement.”
“That sounds like prostitution with press coverage.”
Several executives nearly choked.
Director Han laughed softly.
“Your honesty is refreshing.”
Jiwon grabbed his coat.
“I’m not doing it.”
“Then Haneul Fashion Division disappears within six months.”
That stopped him.
The chairman’s voice lowered.
“And Kang Areum’s company disappears even sooner.”
Rain rolled down the windows like tears.
Jiwon remained still.
Because he understood exactly what this was.
A corporate performance.
A romantic spectacle.
A business merger disguised as love.
Disgusting.
But necessary.
Director Han spoke quietly.
“Sometimes survival requires humiliation.”
Jiwon slowly looked toward the city lights.
And somewhere far below...
Completely unaware...
Kang Areum was about to become the biggest complication of his life.
Kang Areum hated rich people.
Especially this hotel.
Crystal chandeliers hung above luxury banquet tables while executives drank champagne worth more than her monthly rent.
Meanwhile, Kang Areum stood in the center of the ballroom arguing with a supplier who wanted immediate payment.
“I already told you,” she whispered sharply, “I need one more month.”
“You said that last month.”
“I’m negotiating investors.”
“You’re negotiating bankruptcy.”
Humiliation burned her face.
Around them, wealthy guests pretended not to stare.
Areum forced herself to smile.
“I’ll pay everything.”
“With what money?”
No answer.
Because there wasn’t one.
The supplier walked away coldly.
Areum remained frozen beneath glittering chandeliers while embarrassment crawled beneath her skin.
Luxury spaces always made poverty feel louder somehow.
She exhaled shakily.
Then reached for another champagne glass she absolutely could not afford emotionally.
“Careful,” a voice said beside her.
“People start confessing crimes after their third drink here.”
Areum turned.
And immediately frowned.
Tall.
Elegant.
Cold expression.
The man beside her looked painfully expensive.
His black suit fit too perfectly.
His posture screamed elite education.
His face belonged on magazine covers executives pretended not to enjoy.
Areum narrowed her eyes.
“You look like generational wealth.”
One eyebrow lifted slightly.
“That’s an interesting insult.”
“It wasn’t an insult.”
“It definitely was.”
She drank the champagne anyway.
The stranger watched her carefully.
“You hate being here.”
“Obviously.”
“Then why come?”
Areum laughed softly.
“Because struggling artists occasionally need rich people to survive.”
The honesty surprised him.
Most people lied elegantly at events like this.
But Kang Areum looked exhausted enough to tell the truth.
Something about that interested him immediately.
“You’re Kang Areum,” he said.
She blinked.
“That sounded judgmental.”
“I’ve heard about you.”
“Good things or corporate propaganda?”
“A mixture.”
She smiled faintly.
And unexpectedly...
Seo Jiwon forgot about the collapsing company waiting for him upstairs.
Because suddenly this conversation felt strangely alive.
Then Areum asked:
“And who are you?”
Before he could answer, Director Han appeared beside them smiling like a man enjoying chaos.
“Perfect,” the chairman announced.
Both looked confused.
Director Han placed a hand on each of their shoulders.
“You’ve already met.”
Jiwon’s expression darkened immediately.
Areum frowned.
“What’s happening?”
Director Han smiled warmly.
“Congratulations on your engagement.”
The champagne glass slipped from Areum’s hand.
And shattered across the marble floor.
“What?”
The word echoed through the ballroom.
Several guests turned immediately.
Director Han maintained his calm smile while Seo Jiwon looked like he wanted to resign from existence itself.
Areum stared between them.
“This is a joke, right?”
“No.”
Jiwon answered before Director Han could.
His tone sounded deeply exhausted.
Areum laughed once.
Sharp.
Incredulous.
“You rich people are actually insane.”
Director Han guided them toward a quieter hallway before reporters noticed.
The luxury hotel suddenly felt suffocating.
Soft piano music drifted from the ballroom while rain streaked across towering windows.
Director Han folded his hands.
“Both your companies are collapsing.”
Areum crossed her arms immediately.
“My company is temporarily struggling.”
“Your landlord filed legal action yesterday.”
Silence.
Jiwon glanced toward her automatically.
She looked embarrassed for exactly half a second before anger replaced it.
Director Han continued.
“Haneul Fashion Division needs public favor. Kang Areum’s brand needs investors.”
Areum blinked slowly.
“You want us to fake romance for publicity.”
“A modern strategic partnership.”
“That’s somehow worse.”
Jiwon rubbed his temples.
“No.”
Director Han looked at him.
“No?”
“I’m not turning my private life into a marketing campaign.”
The chairman smiled faintly.
“You don’t have a private life.”
That landed harder than expected.
Because it was true.
Seo Jiwon’s life consisted entirely of work.
Boardrooms.
Meetings.
Numbers.
Nothing warm.
Nothing real.
Director Han turned toward Areum.
“And your atelier closes within two months without funding.”
Her expression faltered.
That silence answered everything.
The chairman softened slightly.
“I know both of you hate this idea.”
“Hate is too gentle,” Areum muttered.
“But survival,” Director Han continued quietly, “sometimes requires unbearable decisions.”
Rain rattled softly against the windows.
Jiwon looked at Areum for the first time carefully.
She wore confidence like armor.
But exhaustion hid beneath it.
He recognized that look.
Because he saw it in mirrors every morning.
Director Han handed them both contracts.
“Six months.”
Areum stared.
“You already printed contracts?”
“I’m efficient.”
Jiwon sighed deeply.
“This is insane.”
“Probably,” Director Han admitted.
Then he smiled.
“But people love romance more than reality.”
Three days later, Seoul exploded.
“Haneul Executive Seo Jiwon Announces Engagement.”
“Designer Kang Areum To Join Haneul Family.”
“Business Romance Shocks Industry.”
Every news channel covered it.
Areum nearly threw her phone into the Han River.
Instead she sat inside a café glaring at headlines while rain blurred the city outside.
Across from her, Seo Jiwon calmly reviewed contract clauses like they weren’t discussing emotional disaster.
“How are you this calm?” she demanded.
“I’m not calm.”
“You look calm.”
“That’s because panicking publicly solves nothing.”
Areum narrowed her eyes.
“You’re emotionally suspicious.”
Jiwon finally looked up.
“And you’re loud.”
“Wow. The chemistry here is horrifying.”
A faint smile almost appeared.
Almost.
The waitress placed coffee between them awkwardly after recognizing their faces from news articles.
Areum buried herself in embarrassment.
“This entire thing feels humiliating.”
Jiwon stirred his coffee quietly.
“It is.”
That honesty surprised her.
For several seconds silence settled between them.
Warm café lights glowed softly around rain-soaked windows.
Outside, Seoul moved endlessly.
Inside, two strangers prepared to ruin each other’s lives professionally and emotionally.
Jiwon finally slid a paper across the table.
“Rules.”
Areum blinked.
“You made relationship rules?”
“I prefer structure.”
She read aloud dramatically.
“Rule one: no emotional attachment.”
Jiwon sipped coffee.
“Reasonable.”
“Rule two: maintain believable physical closeness during public appearances.”
She looked up slowly.
“That sentence feels threatening.”
“It’s practical.”
“Are you always this romantic?”
“No.”
“Good. I was worried for humanity.”
A dangerous pause followed.
Then Jiwon added quietly:
“There’s another rule.”
“What?”
“Don’t lie to me.”
The seriousness in his voice surprised her.
Something flickered briefly across his expression.
Pain.
Old pain.
Gone instantly.
But Areum noticed.
And suddenly Seo Jiwon became slightly more interesting.
The restaurant overlooked the Seoul skyline like something from a dream.
Glass walls.
Golden candlelight.
Soft jazz.
Every table held someone wealthy enough to pretend they weren’t staring at Seo Jiwon and Kang Areum.
Areum smiled through clenched teeth.
“I hate rich people restaurants.”
Jiwon adjusted his tie.
“You’ve mentioned that seventeen times.”
“Because it remains true.”
Photographers flashed cameras outside the windows.
Tomorrow every entertainment site would analyze their fake relationship.
Areum wanted to disappear.
Instead she picked up the wine menu aggressively.
Jiwon watched her quietly.
“You’re nervous.”
“I’m homicidal.”
“That too.”
The waiter approached.
“Would the engaged couple like champagne?”
Both froze slightly.
Engaged couple.
The phrase felt strange.
Too intimate.
Too dangerous.
Areum recovered first.
“Yes please. The expensive one. Since my fake fiancé is paying.”
The waiter laughed nervously before leaving.
Jiwon looked at her.
“You’re enjoying financially punishing me.”
“Absolutely.”
A faint smile appeared finally.
Small.
Unexpected.
Areum blinked.
Seo Jiwon smiling felt illegal somehow.
He noticed her staring.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That sounded suspicious.”
“You look less terrifying when you smile.”
His expression immediately returned to neutral.
“Never mind,” she sighed. “The serial killer energy is back.”
To her shock...
Jiwon laughed.
Actually laughed.
Soft.
Low.
Warm enough to alter the atmosphere around them.
For one terrifying second...
Areum forgot this relationship was fake.
Then cameras flashed again outside.
Reality returned immediately.
The waiter poured champagne while reporters watched from below.
Jiwon leaned slightly closer.
“Relax your shoulders.”
“What?”
“You look like you’re attending a funeral.”
“I am. My dignity died three days ago.”
His lips twitched again.
Areum stared.
“Oh no.”
“What?”
“You’re secretly funny.”
“That sounds accusatory.”
“It is.”
The candlelight softened his features unexpectedly.
Without the boardroom coldness...
Seo Jiwon looked lonely.
The realization unsettled her.
Because lonely people were dangerous.
They made you care accidentally.
And Kang Areum absolutely refused to care about her fake fiancé.
Absolutely.
Probably.
Later that night, rain flooded the streets.
Their driver got trapped in traffic.
Which left Kang Areum and Seo Jiwon standing beneath the hotel awning together while thunder rolled above Seoul.
Areum hugged herself against the cold.
Jiwon removed his coat silently.
Then placed it over her shoulders.
She blinked.
“That’s suspiciously considerate.”
“You’re shivering.”
“You noticed?”
“I notice everything.”
The words landed softly.
Dangerously softly.
Rain poured harder.
The city lights reflected gold across wet pavement.
For several seconds neither spoke.
Then Areum asked quietly:
“Why did you agree to this?”
Jiwon looked toward the storm.
“Haneul Fashion Division was my mother’s dream.”
The honesty surprised even him.
Areum’s expression softened immediately.
“You were close?”
A pause.
Then:
“She died when I was young.”
Something painful flickered through his eyes.
“After that, work became easier than people.”
Rain filled the silence afterward.
Areum suddenly understood something important.
Seo Jiwon wasn’t cold because he lacked feelings.
He was cold because feelings once destroyed him.
The realization settled quietly between them.
Then the driver arrived.
And neither noticed how difficult it suddenly became to look away from each other.
By the second week of the fake engagement, the internet became obsessed.
“Seo Jiwon Looks At Kang Areum Softly During Dinner Date.”
“Netizens Praise Unexpected Chemistry.”
“Business Romance Becoming Real?”
Areum nearly screamed reading comments at 2 AM.
Instead she stormed into Haneul headquarters the next morning carrying iced coffee and emotional violence.
Executives bowed instantly as she passed.
She hated it.
Luxury corporate offices always smelled like expensive stress.
Meanwhile Seo Jiwon stood inside a conference room delivering presentations with terrifying perfection.
Employees looked afraid to breathe incorrectly.
Areum watched through glass walls.
Annoyingly handsome.
Annoyingly competent.
Annoyingly composed.
It was deeply irritating.
One assistant approached nervously.
“Ms. Kang? Director Seo asked you to wait inside.”
Areum entered the boardroom dramatically.
“Your fans online are emotionally unstable.”
Jiwon didn’t look up from paperwork.
“They’re investors.”
“Same thing.”
A faint sigh escaped him.
“You’re loud in the morning.”
“You’re emotionally repressed in every time zone.”
One executive accidentally snorted.
The entire room froze.
Because Seo Jiwon hated interruptions.
But instead of anger...
He looked amused.
Which shocked everyone.
Areum noticed immediately.
Interesting.
The meeting ended quickly afterward.
As executives escaped, one woman lingered near the doorway.
Beautiful.
Elegant.
Cold smile.
She looked directly at Areum.
“So this is the fiancée.”
The atmosphere changed instantly.
Jiwon’s expression hardened.
“Yoon Sera.”
Areum raised an eyebrow.
“Should I be threatened by the attractive woman saying my title like an insult?”
Sera smiled politely.
“We were engaged once.”
Silence.
Areum slowly turned toward Jiwon.
“You forgot to mention the ex-fiancée?”
“It wasn’t relevant.”
“THAT feels relevant.”
Sera laughed softly.
“You’re more interesting than I expected.”
Then she walked away.
Leaving emotional destruction behind her like perfume.
Areum folded her arms.
“So.”
Jiwon looked exhausted already.
“So?”
“You collect fake engagements professionally?”
“It wasn’t fake.”
That surprised her.
Something dark crossed his expression briefly.
Then disappeared.
Areum’s teasing softened immediately.
“Oh.”
Jiwon closed the folder quietly.
“She left when my mother died.”
The room fell silent.
“She said grief made me impossible to love.”
Areum’s chest tightened unexpectedly.
Because his voice sounded calm.
Too calm.
The kind of calm people learn after surviving heartbreak alone.
She looked away first.
“Anyone who leaves during grief doesn’t deserve to stay afterward.”
Jiwon stared at her.
Something vulnerable flickered behind his composure.
Then his phone rang.
The moment vanished.
That night, Areum found herself standing alone on Haneul Tower’s rooftop.
Seoul glittered endlessly beneath cold wind and distant traffic.
She often escaped upward whenever life became too loud.
The city felt smaller from rooftops.
Manageable somehow.
The rooftop door opened quietly.
Jiwon stepped outside holding two cups of coffee.
Areum blinked.
“You followed me?”
“You forgot your phone downstairs.”
“Oh.”
He handed her coffee silently.
Warm steam curled into the night air.
For several minutes neither spoke.
Then Jiwon asked quietly:
“Why design?”
Areum looked toward the skyline.
“My mother made dresses.”
A small smile touched her lips.
“She used to say fabric remembers emotions.”
Jiwon listened carefully.
“After she died,” Areum continued softly, “I kept sewing because it felt like talking to her again.”
The honesty surprised them both.
Wind swept across the rooftop.
Jiwon looked at her carefully.
Kang Areum carried sadness differently than he did.
Not hidden.
Worn openly like sunlight after rain.
It made her beautiful in dangerous ways.
Then Areum suddenly laughed.
“What?” he asked.
“We’re having a dramatic rooftop bonding scene.”
“That sounds judgmental.”
“It is.”
To his surprise...
Jiwon smiled again.
And this time...
Neither looked away.
The scandal broke at dawn.
“Haneul Engagement Contract Leaked.”
Seoul exploded instantly.
News channels.
Entertainment sites.
Stock market panic.
Every headline screamed betrayal.
“FAKE ROMANCE FOR CORPORATE PROFIT?”
“SEO JIWON AND KANG AREUM CAUGHT IN CONTRACT ENGAGEMENT.”
Areum stared at her phone in horror while makeup artists panicked around her during a scheduled interview shoot.
“No no no no—”
Her manager looked seconds away from death.
Jiwon arrived twenty minutes later.
Calm.
Sharp suit.
Controlled expression.
Only his eyes betrayed anger.
Director Han waited inside the conference room looking deeply disappointed.
“Someone leaked the contract.”
Jiwon’s voice turned icy.
“I know.”
Areum paced furiously.
“My brand is getting destroyed online!”
Director Han looked serious now.
“You both need to deny everything publicly.”
Areum laughed incredulously.
“There are literally signatures.”
“Then convince people the feelings became real afterward.”
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Jiwon stared at the chairman.
“That’s your strategy?”
“People forgive fake beginnings if the emotions become believable.”
Areum pointed dramatically.
“That sentence belongs in prison.”
But outside the conference room...
Reporters already gathered.
Cameras flashed endlessly.
The world waited.
Jiwon finally looked at Areum.
For the first time since meeting...
He looked uncertain.
“Can you do this?”
The question surprised her.
Not because he asked.
Because he sounded genuinely concerned.
Areum swallowed slowly.
Then nodded.
“Let’s survive first.”
The press conference became national television.
Microphones crowded the stage while reporters shouted questions.
Areum’s heartbeat nearly exploded.
Beside her, Seo Jiwon remained impossibly composed.
“How long have you been lying to the public?”
“Was the engagement entirely financial?”
“Are your feelings real?”
The final question silenced the room.
Areum froze.
Jiwon looked toward her briefly.
Something unreadable passed between them.
Then he answered calmly:
“It started as business.”
Whispers erupted instantly.
“But somewhere along the way...”
His voice softened unexpectedly.
“She became important to me.”
Areum forgot how to breathe.
Because suddenly the room disappeared.
Only his eyes remained.
Warm.
Honest.
Terrifying.
The reporters exploded with questions again.
But Areum barely heard them.
Because one horrifying possibility suddenly existed.
What if Seo Jiwon wasn’t acting anymore?
And worse...
What if she wasn’t either?
Rain followed them after the press conference.
Heavy.
Cold.
Unforgiving.
Areum escaped toward the Han River because she couldn’t breathe inside buildings anymore.
The city lights shimmered across dark water while distant traffic hummed softly.
She stood beneath a bridge alone.
Or thought she was alone.
“You disappear dramatically,” Jiwon said behind her.
Areum startled.
“Do you track me professionally now?”
“You left your umbrella.”
He held it out quietly.
Rain soaked both of them anyway.
For several seconds neither spoke.
Then Areum asked softly:
“Did you mean it?”
Jiwon’s expression shifted.
“The press conference.”
Silence.
Rain filled the space between them.
Finally:
“Yes.”
The answer came too quickly.
Too honestly.
Areum’s chest tightened painfully.
Jiwon looked toward the river.
“When this started, I thought you were reckless.”
“That’s romantic.”
“You still are.”
A faint smile appeared.
Then vanished.
“But you’re also kind.”
The honesty in his voice made her heartbeat uneven.
“You stay when people struggle. You laugh when you’re scared. You pretend confidence even while falling apart.”
Areum stared at him.
Because nobody noticed things about her that carefully.
Not anymore.
Jiwon stepped slightly closer.
“Being with you stopped feeling fake a long time ago.”
The rain softened around them.
The city disappeared into blurred gold reflections.
And Kang Areum realized something terrifying.
She wanted him to kiss her.
Badly.
Jiwon’s gaze lowered briefly toward her lips.
The tension became unbearable.
Then his phone rang.
Director Han.
Reality shattered instantly.
Jiwon answered.
His expression darkened immediately.
“What?”
A pause.
Then:
“Who leaked it?”
Areum’s heartbeat slowed.
Because suddenly something felt wrong.
Very wrong.
Jiwon disconnected slowly.
His face had gone pale.
“What happened?”
He looked at her.
And for the first time...
Seo Jiwon looked afraid.
“It was someone inside your company.”
The world stopped.
Areum stared at him.
“No.”
Jiwon’s voice lowered.
“Your manager sold the contract to reporters.”
The betrayal hit like physical pain.
Because suddenly the one person she trusted professionally...
Had destroyed everything.
Areum confronted her manager that same night.
The office lights remained dim while rain battered the studio windows.
“Tell me it’s not true.”
Her manager looked exhausted.
Ashamed.
Cornered.
“They offered money.”
Areum’s chest tightened.
“How much?”
Silence.
That silence broke her.
Because it meant the number mattered more than loyalty.
Tears burned suddenly.
“I trusted you.”
“I was trying to save the company!”
“By destroying me?”
Her voice cracked sharply.
The sewing machines around them stood silent like witnesses.
“I built this place with you,” Areum whispered.
“And you sold me to reporters.”
Her manager looked guilty.
But guilt came too late.
Way too late.
The studio suddenly felt unbearable.
Areum grabbed her coat and left before she completely fell apart.
Outside, Seoul drowned beneath storm clouds.
She wandered aimlessly through rain-soaked streets while emotions collapsed inside her chest.
Humiliation.
Exhaustion.
Loneliness.
And somewhere beneath everything...
Fear.
Because Seo Jiwon had become important.
Dangerously important.
Her phone vibrated repeatedly.
Jiwon.
She ignored every call.
Not because she was angry.
Because hearing his voice right now might make her cry.
And Kang Areum hated crying in front of people.
Especially him.
For the first time since the engagement began...
They avoided each other.
Meetings became formal.
Texts became brief.
Public appearances felt strained.
The media noticed immediately.
“Trouble In Paradise?”
“Seo Jiwon And Kang Areum Growing Distant?”
Areum hated how much it hurt.
Because this relationship wasn’t supposed to matter.
It was supposed to be temporary.
Strategic.
Controlled.
So why did Seoul suddenly feel emptier without him nearby?
Meanwhile Seo Jiwon sat alone inside his office staring at untouched coffee.
Rain crawled down the windows.
A memory surfaced unexpectedly.
Young Jiwon waiting outside school in winter.
Everyone else picked up by family.
But not him.
Always work first.
Always business first.
Eventually he stopped expecting people to stay.
Then Kang Areum arrived loudly into his life carrying chaos and warmth.
And now losing her felt unbearable.
He hated that.
Because emotions made people weak.
His father taught him that repeatedly.
But for the first time...
Seo Jiwon wanted weakness.
If weakness looked like Kang Areum smiling at him.
It started with ramen.
Areum stood outside a convenience store at midnight debating instant noodles emotionally when someone appeared beside her.
“You’re eating sadness again.”
She froze.
Jiwon.
Dark coat.
Tired eyes.
Coffee in hand.
Seoul glowed quietly behind him.
Areum looked away quickly.
“You’re stalking me.”
“You always come here when stressed.”
“That’s somehow worse.”
Silence settled softly.
Then Jiwon held out coffee.
Her favorite.
Areum stared.
“You remembered?”
“I remember everything about you.”
The sentence hit dangerously hard.
She accepted the coffee slowly.
Warmth spread through cold fingers.
For several minutes they walked beside quiet streets together.
No cameras.
No reporters.
No pretending.
Just footsteps beneath city lights.
Then Jiwon stopped suddenly.
“Look at me.”
Areum did.
And immediately regretted it.
Because Seo Jiwon looked heartbreakingly sincere.
“I’m not good with emotions,” he admitted quietly.
“That sounds medically obvious.”
A faint laugh escaped him.
Then seriousness returned.
“But losing you this week felt...”
He struggled for words.
Pain flickered briefly across his expression.
“Wrong.”
The honesty shattered her completely.
Because Seo Jiwon didn’t speak carelessly.
If he said something...
He meant it.
Areum’s eyes became glossy instantly.
“You’re unfair,” she whispered.
“Why?”
“Because you say emotional things so quietly.”
Rain began falling again.
Soft this time.
Jiwon stepped closer.
Then carefully brushed wet hair away from her face.
His fingers lingered.
Both stopped breathing.
The city disappeared around them.
Only this moment remained.
Then Areum whispered:
“We’re in trouble.”
Jiwon’s gaze softened.
“I know.”
And finally...
He kissed her.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Like someone terrified of breaking something precious.
Rain fell softly around Seoul while Kang Areum realized her fake fiancé had completely ruined her life emotionally.
Because nothing about this felt fake anymore.
The kiss changed everything.
And absolutely nothing.
Publicly, they remained the same glamorous engaged couple.
Privately...
The tension became unbearable.
Every glance lasted too long.
Every accidental touch felt dangerous.
Areum became hyperaware of Seo Jiwon constantly.
The way he loosened his tie when tired.
The way his voice softened near her.
The way he watched her during meetings like she was the only thing worth paying attention to.
It was deeply inconvenient.
Meanwhile Jiwon looked calmer lately.
Employees noticed immediately.
“Director Seo smiled yesterday.”
“Twice.”
“Should we call emergency services?”
Areum overheard and nearly died laughing.
Jiwon remained deeply offended.
“I smile regularly.”
“No,” Areum replied. “You threaten elegantly.”
To her satisfaction...
He laughed again.
Warm.
Real.
And suddenly the office no longer felt cold.
The truth arrived at midnight.
Director Han summoned Jiwon alone.
The chairman looked older somehow.
Tired.
Guilty.
“What I’m about to tell you stays here.”
Jiwon frowned.
“That sentence never leads anywhere good.”
Director Han slid documents across the desk.
Jiwon read silently.
Then froze.
No.
Impossible.
His hands tightened.
“The company accident fifteen years ago...” Director Han whispered.
“Your father caused it.”
Jiwon’s world tilted.
Because that accident killed his mother.
The official report blamed mechanical failure.
But the documents revealed something horrifying.
Neglected safety inspections.
Corruption.
Intentional coverups.
His father knew.
And buried everything.
Jiwon looked shattered.
For the first time in years...
His composure completely disappeared.
Director Han’s voice trembled slightly.
“I tried to expose it then. I failed.”
Jiwon stared at the documents like they were poison.
Everything inside him collapsed quietly.
His grief.
His childhood.
His loneliness.
Built on lies.
And suddenly...
Seo Jiwon no longer knew who he was.
Areum found him on the rooftop.
Rain poured violently across Seoul while Jiwon stood motionless near the edge.
His suit soaked completely.
“Jiwon!”
No response.
She ran toward him immediately.
“Are you insane?”
Finally he looked at her.
And Areum’s chest shattered.
Because Seo Jiwon looked broken.
Not tired.
Not cold.
Broken.
She stepped closer carefully.
“What happened?”
His voice emerged barely above rain.
“My father killed her.”
Areum froze.
Jiwon laughed once.
Sharp.
Empty.
“I spent my entire life becoming him.”
Pain poured from him now uncontrollably.
“He destroyed my mother and I still worked for his company like some obedient machine.”
Areum’s eyes filled instantly.
Because grief looked unbearable on Seo Jiwon.
He looked lost.
Like a child abandoned inside a storm.
Without hesitation she hugged him.
Tightly.
Rain soaked them both.
At first he remained frozen.
Then suddenly...
Seo Jiwon collapsed against her.
Years of loneliness finally breaking open.
And Kang Areum held him through all of it.
The scandal returned worse than before.
This time involving corruption investigations.
Investors panicked.
Reporters attacked relentlessly.
Jiwon disappeared from public view.
Then one morning...
Areum received an envelope.
Inside:
The engagement contract.
Signed termination papers.
And one handwritten note.
“I love you enough to leave.
— Jiwon”
Her world stopped.
No.
No.
She called endlessly.
No answer.
Visited his office.
Empty.
The penthouse.
Gone.
Seo Jiwon disappeared completely.
And for the first time since childhood...
Kang Areum felt truly abandoned.
Winter arrived quietly.
Snow covered Seoul in soft silence.
Areum kept working.
Kept breathing.
Kept surviving.
But nothing felt warm anymore.
Then Director Han visited her studio unexpectedly.
“He’s in Busan.”
Her heartbeat stopped.
“What?”
The chairman smiled sadly.
“He left everything behind.”
Hours later, Areum stood beside the ocean.
Cold wind.
Grey skies.
Waves crashing endlessly.
And there he was.
Seo Jiwon.
Working inside a small seaside café.
For several seconds she simply stared.
He looked thinner.
Softer somehow.
Human.
Jiwon turned.
And froze completely.
“Areum?”
Her eyes filled instantly.
“You absolute idiot.”
Pain flashed across his face.
“I thought leaving would protect you.”
“Who protects you?”
The same question.
Again.
And suddenly Seo Jiwon realized something terrifying.
Home was standing in front of him wearing tears and anger and ocean wind.
Home was Kang Areum.
Snow began falling softly beside the ocean.
Jiwon stepped closer slowly.
“Why did you come?”
Areum laughed through tears.
“Because you’re an emotionally repressed disaster and somebody has to supervise you.”
To his shock...
He laughed.
Then immediately looked emotional afterward.
Areum’s voice softened.
“You don’t get to disappear whenever life hurts.”
“I didn’t know how to stay.”
The honesty shattered her.
She moved closer.
Then closer again.
Until only inches remained.
“I love you,” she whispered.
Jiwon closed his eyes briefly like the words physically hurt.
“I tried not to love you.”
His voice cracked.
“But you became every good thing in my life.”
Areum started crying openly.
And finally...
Seo Jiwon kissed her like someone returning home after years lost.
The ocean roared softly around them.
Snow drifted through cold air.
And somewhere between fake promises and real heartbreak...
They found each other completely.
Spring transformed Seoul beautifully.
Haneul Fashion Division recovered under new leadership.
Corruption investigations destroyed Seo Jiwon’s father publicly.
And Kang Areum?
Her designs became internationally famous.
But success mattered less now.
Because every morning...
Seo Jiwon stood inside her kitchen making coffee badly.
Domesticity looked absurdly attractive on him.
Areum enjoyed teasing him professionally.
One rainy evening, they returned to the Han River together.
City lights shimmered across dark water while cherry blossoms drifted softly around them.
Jiwon stopped walking suddenly.
Areum frowned.
“What?”
He looked strangely nervous.
Which immediately frightened her.
“Why do you look like you’re negotiating with God?”
Instead of answering...
Seo Jiwon knelt slowly.
Areum stopped breathing.
Rain fell gently around them.
Jiwon held out a ring.
This time...
No contracts.
No cameras.
No fake promises.
Only love.
His voice softened.
“Kang Areum.”
Emotion trembled behind his composure.
“You turned survival into living again.”
Her eyes filled instantly.
“And I want every version of my future to include you.”
The Han River blurred behind tears.
“Will you marry me?”
Areum laughed while crying simultaneously.
“Your proposals are emotionally aggressive.”
A nervous smile appeared.
Then she whispered:
“Yes.”
And beneath the rain-soaked Seoul sky...
Seo Jiwon kissed Kang Areum while the city glittered endlessly around them.
Not like strangers pretending anymore.
But like two wounded people who taught each other how to stay.
Three years later, Seoul called them the power couple who accidentally became real.
Magazine covers.
Luxury campaigns.
Fashion awards.
But their favorite place remained small.
A quiet riverside café where no reporters bothered them.
Every rainy weekend, Areum sketched designs beside the window while Jiwon pretended not to watch her lovingly.
He failed every time.
One evening she caught him staring.
“What?”
Jiwon smiled softly.
“You still feel unreal sometimes.”
Her chest melted instantly.
“That was disgustingly romantic.”
“I’m improving.”
“Slowly.”
He laughed quietly.
Warm.
Peaceful.
Outside, rain whispered softly against Seoul.
Inside the café, candlelight glowed around two people who began as a contract...
And became home instead.
The End.
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