Han Yura had always believed there was a special kind of strength in being beautiful.From her earliest training days, she'd learned that a perfect smile, a teasing laugh, a well-timed tear could make powerful men do anything. Open wallets. Sign contracts. Apologize for their own mistakes.
But standing in Kang Jinhyuk's penthouse — the vast glass walls spilling out over Seoul's midnight skyline, the rich scent of whiskey and faint cologne coiling around her — she realized that kind of power was a childish fantasy.
Because he wasn't even looking at her.He was reading a slim stack of financial projections at his bar counter, back turned, his entire presence humming with bored dominance.
Like he's already won, Yura thought, heart hammering.Like he knows I'll dance however he wants.
The silence stretched until she wanted to scream. Finally, she cleared her throat.
"Chairman Kang... I came as you requested."
Still, he didn't turn. Just reached for a heavy crystal decanter, poured two fingers of amber liquid, swirled it lazily.
"Strip."
The word was soft. Almost conversational.Yura's breath caught.
"I— what?"
Jinhyuk finally glanced over his shoulder, one brow arched.
"I told you yesterday, your contract with me is total. I want to see exactly what I've bought."
Yura's throat worked. Her fingers clenched around the thin straps of her expensive dress.
"Chairman... I'm a public figure. If anyone found out—"
"They won't. You'll be gone before sunrise, and every elevator camera is already blacked out. Now stop wasting my time."
For a long, gut-wrenching second, she thought about running. Just bolting for the door, high heels clacking across marble, hair flying.But she remembered the contract. The thick NDA. The threat of that hotel video splashed across every gossip feed in Korea. Her mother's fragile heart, her father's trembling hands.
Slowly, she slipped the straps off her shoulders. The dress fell in a soft sigh of silk around her feet.
She stood there in delicate lace, hugging her arms across her chest.Jinhyuk's eyes finally swept her fully — slow, clinical, almost bored.
"Turn."
Her face burned as she obeyed, showing him her back, her ass, the delicate lines of garters clipped to thigh-highs.She heard his slow exhale, felt the air change, and somehow that was worse than any cruel laugh.
He stepped closer. Warmth and scent — smoke, spice, expensive cologne — closed around her. One hand ghosted up her bare arm to her shoulder. She flinched at the contact, a tiny shiver running through her.
"Do you remember," he murmured, voice a dark purr by her ear, "how you laughed at me that night at the Crystal Gala? How you held your glass up to your little friends and toasted my humiliation?"
Yura squeezed her eyes shut. Her lips trembled.
"I... I was stupid. I didn't understand—"
"No," he agreed, breath hot against her neck."You didn't."
His hand slid to her throat. Not tight, just a possessive curl of fingers — enough to make her heart trip over itself.Then he stepped back, leaving her cold and shaky.
Jinhyuk moved to the bar, picked up a slim leather folder. Came back and snapped it open on the countertop. It was a duplicate contract — but with thick addendums in red ink.
"This is your final contract, Yura. Your manager signed the professional clauses. These are your personal obligations."
Her breath hitched as she read the lines.
The undersigned agrees to attend private events at Chairman Kang's discretion.
The undersigned consents to exclusive companionship duties as requested.
The undersigned relinquishes all claims to privacy in matters of physical intimacy with Chairman Kang.
Her hands trembled. Tears blurred her eyes, dripped onto the page.
"You want me to... to be your..."
"Mine," he finished, voice quiet."Completely. In every way. And you'll smile for cameras tomorrow as if nothing's changed."
Yura shook her head, tears spilling freely.
"I was supposed to be a star. I worked for years. Dieted until I fainted. Trained until my feet bled. I—I'm not some toy to be owned..."
Jinhyuk watched her with flat, cold amusement.
"And yet, here you are. Naked in my living room, begging me not to ruin your career."
She choked on a sob.
Finally, she picked up the pen.Signed.
The sound was hollow in the huge room. Her signature looked fragile, almost childlike, next to the heavy legal script.
Jinhyuk smiled. Took the pen from her fingers, set it down carefully — like a king receiving a tribute. Then he tilted her chin up with a finger, forcing her teary eyes to meet his.
"Good girl. That's the first smart decision you've ever made."
He didn't kiss her. Didn't even touch her again.Just dismissed her with a tilt of his head.
"Get dressed. I have real work to finish. My driver will take you home."
Yura stood there for a beat too long, then scrambled to gather her dress. Her cheeks were flaming, her mascara streaked down pale skin. As she hurried out, she dared one last glance back — and found Jinhyuk already on the phone, discussing mergers, as if she was less than an afterthought.
When the door clicked shut behind her, Jinhyuk exhaled a soft laugh.
It wasn't the sex. He could pay for a hundred prettier bodies.It was watching her break. Watching her face crumple as she signed away her pride, her future, her very sense of self.It was knowing tomorrow, she'd still have to smile on stage, pretending she was free.
He poured himself another drink, the ice cracking, and toasted the city beyond the glass.
"You all laughed once," he whispered."Now it's my turn."