The rooftop of the Crescent Hotel was a strange place to feel so alone. The city stretched endlessly in every direction, a living grid of gold and silver lights, but the air up here was hushed, as if the noise below couldn't reach.
Claire stepped out from the stairwell into the wind. It caught at her coat, pulling it around her legs. She tightened the belt, scanning the open space. The invitation had said midnight. It was midnight. And yet, she was the only one here.
A part of her wanted to leave immediately, to turn back and pretend this never happened. But another part, the part that had kept her awake for two nights wondering who had sent that envelope…kept her rooted in place.
She moved toward the railing, the cold metal biting against her gloved hands. Below, the streets were veins of light, traffic weaving in and out, oblivious to the weight in her chest.
The sound of the door opening behind her broke the stillness. Footsteps crossed the concrete, deliberate and unhurried.
She turned.
It wasn't Evan.
The man from the video stood a few feet away, his dark coat blending into the night. Up close, the details of his face were sharper, lines etched from years of decisions that had no room for hesitation, eyes that missed nothing.
"You came," he said, his voice exactly as it had been in that grainy footage.
"You sent the envelope," Claire replied.
"I did." He stopped a few steps short, his gaze moving over her like a silent assessment. "Your father would never tell you the truth himself. He thinks ignorance is safer. He's wrong."
Her throat tightened. "Then tell me."
He looked past her, out toward the city. "There's a reason Evan Lee Hyunsik wants you under his name. And it has nothing to do with marriage."
She waited, pulse ticking in her ears.
"Your father owes more than money," the man continued. "He owes a debt that can't be erased with a signed contract. Evan knows this. He's using you to secure something far more valuable than Yoo Industries."
Claire's fingers dug into the railing. "What does he want?"
The man's gaze returned to hers, steady and cold. "Access. And when he gets it, you'll be the one holding the door open."
The wind swept between them, lifting strands of her hair across her face. She pushed them back, keeping her eyes on him. "Why tell me this? Why not tell my father?"
"I've already told him," the man said. "He didn't listen."
Claire thought of the hospital photo, of her father sitting across from this man, speaking in low tones. "So what are you to him? A threat? An ally?"
His mouth curved slightly, though it didn't reach his eyes. "That depends on what you do next."
Before she could respond, the rooftop door opened again. This time, it was Evan. He stepped into the wind as if he had known exactly where to find her, his eyes moving first to the man, then to her.
"I see you've met," Evan said, his tone unreadable.
The man didn't move. "She has a right to know."
"And you have a habit of showing up where you're not wanted," Evan replied. His gaze shifted back to Claire. "Go inside."
She didn't move. "I'm not going anywhere until someone explains…"
Evan's voice cut through hers, low and sharp. "Inside."
For a moment, neither she nor the man moved. The tension between the two of them was electric, thick enough to make the air feel heavy. Finally, the man stepped back.
"This isn't over," he said to her, and then he was gone, slipping past Evan, the door shutting behind him.
Evan walked toward her, stopping just close enough for the wind to catch the edge of his coat. "You shouldn't be here."
"I was invited," she said.
"By him," Evan replied. "Which should tell you everything you need to know."
She lifted her chin. "It told me that you're hiding something."
His eyes narrowed, the city lights catching in them like shards of glass. "If you think he's the one you should trust, then you don't understand how dangerous this is."
"Then explain it," she demanded.
"Not here," he said. "And not tonight."
Her frustration burned hot, but she could see that he meant it. Whatever this was, it wasn't something he would give away under an open sky where anyone could be listening.
He took a step closer, his voice lower now. "Claire, you need to decide who you're going to stand next to when this starts. And make no mistake…it's already started."
The words sank into her like a weight. "And if I choose wrong?"
He looked at her for a long moment, and in that moment she thought she saw something flicker in his expression, something almost human, almost regret.
"Then you won't get another chance to choose."
The wind surged between them, and the lights of the city seemed to blur. She didn't know if it was the cold or his words that sent the shiver down her spine.
Evan turned toward the door. "Come on. I'll take you home."
She hesitated only a second before following. The rooftop felt colder now, emptier.
In the elevator, neither of them spoke. Claire stared at her reflection in the polished steel doors, her mind replaying the night in fragments…the man's voice, the look in Evan's eyes, the unanswered questions stacking higher in her chest.
When they reached the lobby, Evan stopped just short of the doors. "You'll stay quiet about tonight. To everyone."
Her instinct was to argue, but she knew he would win. Not because he was right, but because he held too many of the pieces she still didn't understand.
"Fine," she said.
He studied her for a beat longer, then nodded to Kangwoo, who was waiting by the car.
The ride back to her apartment was another stretch of silence. But when she stepped out onto the curb, Evan's voice followed her.
"Friday," he said. "Don't forget."
She didn't turn back. She walked inside, every step echoing with the reminder that Friday, whatever it was…was now only hours away.
And this time, she wasn't sure she wanted to know what waited for her.