Claire didn't expect the first hit to come before she even reached her office. The car had barely merged into the main avenue when her phone began to vibrate, buzzing with the kind of urgency that meant something was already breaking.
She glanced at the screen, three missed calls from Jina, her assistant, and a flood of messages stacking faster than she could read them. She tapped one open. It was a link. The headline made her stomach tighten.
YOO INDUSTRIES HEIRESS LINKED TO SECRET ENGAGEMENT WITH HAN GROUP SUCCESSOR
Her thumb froze over the glass. The article was barely two paragraphs long, padded with speculation and a blurry photo taken from across a street, the shot caught her stepping into Kangwoo's car the night before, the side profile unmistakable. The caption didn't bother with subtlety: Claire Yoo Areum seen with Lee Hyunsik's driver amid rumors of pending engagement.
She scrolled, pulse quickening. Quotes from "unnamed industry sources," guesses about dowry sums, even speculation about whether Yoo Industries' debt had "necessitated" the match. The last sentence was the sharpest: The Han Group is expected to respond with a statement by end of day.
Her first thought wasn't Evan. It was her father, how he would see this before she had the chance to explain.
"Drive to the office," she said to Kangwoo, the words clipped.
When she stepped into Yoo Industries' temporary headquarters, the tension was already thick enough to taste. Jina met her at the door, holding a stack of printouts.
"They've been calling all morning," Jina said in a rush. "The press, suppliers, even…" She lowered her voice. "…some of the board members. They want to know if it's true."
"It's not," Claire said automatically, but the certainty in her voice was a thin layer over the truth she hadn't decided yet.
Jina glanced toward the frosted glass walls of the conference room. "There's someone waiting inside. He said he had an appointment. He wouldn't leave."
Claire's pulse ticked faster. "Who."
Jina hesitated. "He didn't give a name. Said you'd know him."
She pushed open the door. The man from last night was sitting at the head of the table, one arm resting casually along the chair back as if he owned the air in the room.
"You move quickly," she said, not stepping closer.
"Speed keeps the other side guessing," he replied. "And it forces you to choose before he's ready to let you."
"You leaked it."
His smile didn't reach his eyes. "I simply made sure the truth you've been walking toward didn't wait until morning. Now you see how it feels when the decision isn't yours to schedule."
She didn't give him the satisfaction of reacting. "You think making me angry will push me toward you."
"I think showing you the cost of standing beside him will make you smart."
Her phone buzzed again…Jina's name flashing. Claire didn't answer.
"Leave," she said to him. "Before I have security escort you out."
He rose, unhurried, buttoning his coat. "Tomorrow, the story will grow teeth. Decide how deep you want them to bite."
When he passed her, his shoulder brushed hers, not enough to move her, but enough to feel intentional. She waited until the door clicked shut before exhaling.
Her phone buzzed again. This time it was Evan.
"You've seen it," he said when she answered.
"Yes."
"Then you also know I didn't start it."
"That doesn't make it better," she said.
"It makes it clearer. This is pressure, not proof. If you stand with me today, the narrative bends. If you don't…"
"It hardens," she finished.
"Exactly."
She paced to the window, watching the city through the warped glass. "And if I walk away from both of you."
"You won't," he said, with the certainty of someone who'd already calculated her moves.
She almost hung up. Instead, she said, "Stay out of my day," and ended the call.
By afternoon, the photo was everywhere, social feeds, business blogs, even on the scrolling ticker of a news channel playing silently in a lobby she passed. The caption had evolved: now it included a "source" claiming the engagement announcement would come within forty-eight hours.
In the late hours, she stood alone in her office, the city lit beneath her. The envelope with the metal card sat on her desk, unopened since the morning. She traced the edge with her finger, feeling the decision pressing closer.
Her phone lit up again, not a call, but a message from her father's number.
Come tonight. We need to talk before the board meets tomorrow.
No mention of the article. No mention of Evan. But she felt the weight in those few words, as if the space between them carried more than the letters themselves.
The office felt suddenly smaller. The city noise outside seemed to fade, replaced by the faint tick of the clock on her desk. She reached for her coat, fingers brushing the soft fabric as if grounding herself before stepping into whatever waited at the other end of that message.
The door to her office opened before she could move. Evan stepped inside with the kind of quiet that was never uncertain, Kangwoo close behind him, his presence a shadow of precision. The air shifted the moment they crossed the threshold, carrying with it the sense that nothing about the rest of her day would go as she planned.
"You're not answering my calls," Evan said.
"I told you to stay out of my day."
"This isn't your day anymore," he said. "They've taken it. You can either take it back now or let them decide the shape of tomorrow for you."
She held his gaze. "And you'll decide the shape if I agree tonight."
He stepped closer. "If you agree tonight, you take the pen out of their hands before they've written the ending. That's the difference."
The city lights spilled across the floor between them, sharp and bright like a line neither had crossed yet. She knew the choice was still hers, but she also knew the longer she waited, the more the world would make it for her.