[KV Global Group Headquarters]
It was lunchtime, and the office lobby buzzed with activity as employees filtered in and out of the high-rise.
Secretary Yun strode past them, balancing two massive brown paper bags bearing a trendy café logo—an unusual sight that immediately caught the attention of the gossip-hungry staff.
"Sir, need any help?" a sweet voice called.
He had just pressed the elevator button when he turned and saw her: petite, porcelain-skinned, bouncy curls, big eyes. The type of woman who could make hearts stutter.
But Secretary Yun had worked for Shin Keir for eight long years.
He was immune.
Without so much as a blink, he gave a polite shake of the head and stepped into the elevator, leaving the would-be siren baffled.
Lucia Hera stared, stunned. Men usually stumbled over themselves to open doors for her. Was this secretary blind? Or just gay?
No—worse. He probably thought she wasn't in his league.
Ridiculous! she fumed internally. If Shin Keir weren't so impossibly hard to approach, she wouldn't waste time on a glorified assistant!
Still, she wasn't about to give up. The man wasn't married. He had no fiancée. That made him fair game in her book.
Ambition was sexy, right?
Meanwhile, the oblivious and much-slandered Secretary Yun was unloading boxes of pastel-colored desserts inside the CEO's sleek office.
"Boss, I picked up everything Café Zhillion had trending today. The patissier even made some recommendations."
To his surprise, Shin Keir didn't scowl or grumble. He was actually…smiling?
Secretary Yun blinked.
Sugar? His Boss hated sweets with the passion of a dentist.
But here he was, surrounded by cupcakes and mini cheesecakes like an influencer mom at a bake sale.
Something was definitely up.
"Just leave them on the coffee table," Shin said, eyes still on his laptop. "And brew the usual coffee."
"Yes, sir." Secretary Yun set to work, glancing between the cakes and his unusually mellow employer.
Then he spotted one particularly cutesy item—strawberries, pink flower icing, and little paw prints in chocolate powder.
"Boss," he said carefully, "this cake's named after Miss Zhi. The owner's daughter loves it. It's called the Yeri Matcha Cheesecake."
That got Shin's attention.
He looked up, and for a split second—just a blink—there was amusement in his eyes. The kind of expression normally reserved for bank statements and hostile takeovers.
He opened the box.
Tiny. Round. Green. Girly as sin.
So this was her favorite?
Secretary Yun, sensing an opportunity, lifted his phone. "Boss, do you want me to take a picture? Maybe send it to Miss Zhi?"
Shin stared. "Why?"
A pause.
"…Never mind." Secretary Yun lowered the phone like it was a cursed object.
Note to self: flirty photos and Shin Keir are mutually exclusive.
Still, his boss was definitely in a good mood. That had to mean one thing.
---
Elsewhere...
Yeri had spent the night tossing and turning, reliving the phone call like a courtroom drama where she was the defense and the prosecutor was too hot for his own good.
Defeated and drained, she skipped her last class and went straight to her dorm for a nap.
Why was arguing with Shin Keir more exhausting than studying thermodynamics?
That evening, Jj invited her to a friend's birthday party, sensing she needed to blow off steam. He was right. Over-studying was bad for the soul.
She dressed in a green sequin mini-dress that shimmered like spring rain, paired with silver kitten heels and light makeup. Her long hair cascaded freely—effortlessly gorgeous.
At 9 PM sharp, Jj arrived in his signature red Corvette.
They pulled up to a bar—and Yeri's heart immediately dropped.
"This place… again?" she muttered, staring at the neon-lit entrance.
Jj nodded. "It's one of the best nightspots in town. But stay close, okay? Lot of weirdos out here."
Yeri rolled her eyes. She knew. One of them had kissed her last time.
The attendant led them upstairs to a VIP room where the party was in full swing. About 30 students were already there, mostly from their department.
"Jj! You finally showed up—what took you so long? The girls were getting impatient!"
"Yeah, I thought you forgot my birthday!"
Yeri recognized a few faces—Vince Marion, the birthday boy, and Cedric Moon, another friendly senior.
"Happy birthday, Brother Vince!" Yeri smiled. "Sorry for crashing without a gift."
Vince beamed. "Your presence is the best gift, forget the rest!"
"Don't touch her," Jj said flatly, swatting Vince's hand off her head. "Go play host somewhere else."
"Oh come on—Yeri's also my guest, isn't she? Stop acting like her dad!"
Yeri just laughed and sat beside Jj, accustomed to the attention. It didn't faze her.
"Jj, who is she?" asked a pretty girl nearby, her voice sugarcoated and sharp.
The green gleam in her eye said what her words didn't.
And thus began the battle of silent side-eyes.
Vince looked thoroughly entertained, fully aware that most of the girls in the room harbored hopeless crushes on Jj.
"She's my sister—Yeri," Jj said flatly, handing her a glass of orange juice. His tone carried a hint of irritation as he noticed the swarm of starry-eyed boys eyeing her like dessert.
The announcement was met with an audible wave of relief. The girls, who had looked ready to combust with jealousy, immediately relaxed, like prey spared from the lion's attention.
"Dude, your family has insane genetics! Mind if I offer the pretty sister a drink?" one bold guy grinned at Yeri with gleaming admiration.
"She's in high school. No liquor," Jj said darkly.
High school?
The room collectively blinked and gave Yeri another once-over. Tall, with an enviable S-curve figure and the kind of face that sold luxury skincare.
"Are high schoolers nowadays… this advanced?" a guy whispered, not realizing his girlfriend was already glaring daggers at him.
"Alright, alright!" Vince laughed, lifting his glass. "It's my birthday, not a dating show. Calm your hormones, gentlemen."
Cedric Moon, cheeks flushed from one too many drinks, chuckled. "It's not our fault! That's the snow flower of the high school department!"
"Snow flower?" someone echoed.
"Oh yeah, I've heard of that," another chimed in. "The girl who's as pale as snow and supposedly so fragile like a snowflake she faints at the sight of math."
"Hahaha!"
"Ohhh! So you're that Yeri!"
Yeri maintained a practiced smile, serene as a swan gliding over water—but underneath, her brain was already side-eyeing everyone.
She'd long accepted her weird school nickname, "snowflake flower," which sounded poetic until you realized it was basically saying: beautiful but short-lived.
She knew not everyone adored her. Especially not the girlfriends watching their boyfriends ogle her like she was a limited-edition anime figurine. Some already filed her under "fake and fragile," assuming her delicate image was a strategy to farm male sympathy.
Too bad for them, she had zero interest in sympathy—and even less in their boyfriends.
"Yeri, right?" A pretty girl, who was just scowling minutes ago, now wore a suspiciously sweet smile. "I love your dress. Wanna go shopping this weekend?"
"Sorry, I'm going home this weekend," Yeri replied politely, smiling with the mental equivalent of a yawn. Ah, yes. The fake-friend applications are rolling in again.
Who asked her to have such a desirable brother?
Jj Zhi—handsome, smart, athletic, rich, and annoyingly well-mannered—was basically a one-man heartbreaker club. And because of that, Yeri had become everyone's favorite shortcut to get to him. Some girls even started rumors that she and Jj weren't real siblings and that she had... forbidden feelings for him.
Yeri found that hilarious.
So she calmly hacked the school forum, exposed the anonymous posters by their usernames, and sent a neat report to the school director. Boom. Rumors squashed, reputations roasted. Don't mess with her—or her brother.
"Hungry?" Jj asked, bringing her back to the present.
Yeri shook her head and later wandered off to a couch near the glass wall, which gave a clear view of the lively dance floor below.
Across from their VIP room was another enclosed lounge.
Inside, a group of well-dressed men lounged like wolves in tailored suits.
"Sergei's getting gutsy. He opened a business near our turf," Drego Tim muttered.
"Word is, he's recruiting war-zone mercs now," Tristan added with a glance at the man beside him.
Shin Keir sat like a marble statue carved from disdain itself. The crowd, noise, and people usually disgusted him—but tonight, his mood was... oddly tolerable.
Maybe because it reminded him of a certain someone.
Tristan noticed. This is new. He didn't even grumble when I mentioned the party. Could it be... the mystery girlfriend?
"Young Master Keir and Young Master Felan, it's not every day we get to share a drink with you. Come, let's toast!" a plump businessman said eagerly, pouring whisky into crystal glasses.
Shin Keir lit a cigarette, lifting a brow as the man blocked his view. He frowned.
"Unpleasant," he muttered.
Everyone: "..."
Tristan, unbothered, handed him a document. "Maybe this proposal will improve your mood?"
Shin barely glanced at it. "Ugly font. Shrink the text."
Everyone: "...?"
Did he actually care about the font? Or was he indirectly roasting the guy for obstructing his view?
The plump man looked like he'd been stabbed by a sword.