The terrace doors opened wider under her push, the hum of conversation from inside replaced by the electric crackle of camera shutters below. The Crescent's private balcony overlooked the main steps, where a line of photographers had already formed. Their lenses were pointed up, eager for the first frame.
Claire paused just outside, the cool night air brushing against her bare arms. The scent of rain clung to the city, sharp and clean, but the scene in front of her was anything but.
She could feel Evan behind her without turning. His presence steady, measured. If he thought she would hesitate, he wasn't wrong. Every instinct told her to walk back inside, to shut the doors, to refuse him here in the open where the city could see.
But hesitation was weakness. And weakness, in his world, was currency you couldn't afford to spend.
She stepped forward until the soft glow of the terrace lights touched her face. Immediately, the flashes erupted. The photographers called her name, not Miss Yoo, not CEO Yoo's daughter, but Claire Areum, as though the narrative had already been printed.
She didn't smile. She didn't wave. She simply stood with her chin lifted, letting them take what they came for, knowing that the image they captured would be impossible to take back.
Evan moved to stand beside her, his hand sliding, not possessively, but deliberately…just enough toward her back for the cameras to frame them together. He was giving them a picture. She was giving them nothing.
"Breathe," he murmured, low enough that only she could hear.
"I'm not nervous," she replied without moving her lips.
"I didn't say you were," he said, the faintest hint of amusement in his voice.
The flashes slowed, but the shouting didn't. Questions floated up from the street, about the engagement, about the wedding date, about whether Yoo Industries was merging with Lee Group. Evan didn't answer any of them. Neither did she. Silence, she realized, was a weapon here. It made them lean closer, want more.
Kangwoo appeared at the edge of the terrace, his phone to his ear. "The car is ready," he said once he reached them.
Evan glanced down at her. "Ready to leave?"
She didn't answer. Instead, she walked past him, toward the elevator. If she stayed any longer, she'd start to feel the weight of what just happened and that was a luxury she didn't have tonight.
The ride down was quiet, the soft hum of the elevator masking the pounding in her chest. When the doors opened to the Crescent's private exit, Kangwoo stepped out first, scanning the hallway. Evan followed at an unhurried pace, his presence filling the narrow space.
Claire moved to step past him, but his voice stopped her. "You handled that well."
She turned her head slightly. "I didn't do it for you."
His gaze lingered on her for a long second, unreadable. "No. You did it for the company. Which is why you'll survive this."
She walked away without replying, the echo of his words following her out into the cold night.
The car ride was short, but her thoughts were louder than the city outside. By the time she reached her apartment, the first notifications were already on her phone. News alerts. Social media tags. Photos of her standing beside Evan, the word engaged stamped across headlines like a verdict.
She didn't open any of them. Instead, she tossed her phone onto the couch and went straight to the kitchen. The apartment felt too quiet, too still for the storm that had just broken outside. She poured herself a glass of water and leaned against the counter, replaying the night in her head.
There had been a moment, just a flicker…when she almost thought about walking down those stairs with him, hand in hand, to face the press together. It wasn't trust. It wasn't even acceptance. It was the cold, strategic part of her that knew sometimes you stepped into the fire so you could control how it burned.
Her eyes drifted to the counter, where the velvet case still sat unopened from the morning. She flipped it open, staring at the necklace again. In the light of her kitchen, it looked different. Not softer, not warmer…just clearer.
She closed the case and set it aside.
By morning, Yoo Industries' inbox was flooded with congratulatory emails from people who had been avoiding them for months. The company's stock, which had been on a slow decline for weeks, ticked up by a small but noticeable margin. The PR team, what was left of it…was already drafting statements to "clarify" the engagement while also leaning into it.
Claire sat at her desk, listening to the buzz of voices around her. She hadn't spoken to her father yet, but she knew he'd seen the news. She could imagine his expression…relieved, but too proud to say thank you.
Her phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number again.
[You made the right choice.]
No signature, but she didn't need one.
She typed back before she could stop herself. [Don't mistake survival for agreement.]
The reply came almost instantly. [Survival is just the first step.]
She stared at the words, her jaw tightening.
Kangwoo appeared in her doorway a moment later, a folder in hand. "Miss Yoo, Mr. Lee has requested your presence at Lee Group headquarters this afternoon. Four o'clock."
She didn't move. "Did he say why?"
"He said it's time you saw what you're marrying into."
She almost laughed at the phrasing, but the look on Kangwoo's face told her this wasn't an invitation. It was the next move in whatever game Evan was playing.
She didn't answer Kangwoo right away. Instead, she turned her chair slightly, looking out the small office window at the muted skyline. The clouds hung low, heavy with the promise of rain again. Somewhere out there, Evan was already preparing his next move, and she could feel the invisible threads tightening around her.
Her hand curled into a fist on the armrest. She would go to Lee Group headquarters but not as a pawn. She would watch, listen, and find every crack in the walls he thought were unbreakable.
Because if Evan Lee Hyunsik believed she would spend a year playing his game, he was about to learn she had one of her own.