Night fell over Seoul like a second skin—heavy, electric, saturated with that invisible tension that comes right before everything shifts.
Nari walked alone through the glowing streets, red and blue neon reflecting in dried rain puddles, painting vibrant shards of light across her skin that pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat.
Each step echoed against the asphalt with a slow, ceremonial energy, as if the city itself was escorting this new version of her she was still discovering—a version that breathed differently, saw the world with sharper, hungrier eyes, a version alive in ways she had never been before.
She had this strange, burning sensation of being reborn—
but not like the soft rebirths they show in movies.
No.
A brutal rebirth.
A carnal one.
Forged in disobedience… and in the bite of irreversible choices.
A vivid heat rolled in her chest, a fire spreading into her fingers, her lips, the tips of her lashes.
Pure adrenaline, vibrating through her veins like a drug.
She regretted nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
That docile woman no longer existed.
The real Nari was now walking through the cold streets of Seoul.
Then her phone vibrated, slicing through the hum of the city.
A message, short.
Sharp as a blade.
"We're expecting you tonight. 7:00 PM. At Black Orchid."
She froze for a few seconds, red neon reflected in her eyes.
The sentence vibrated in her mind—heavy, mysterious, almost sensual.
Black Orchid.
A name that sounded like a secret.
A veiled warning.
Or a dangerous invitation.
Her lips curved slowly.
A hungry, feral smile.
— Perfect… she murmured to herself.
The city kept living around her—yellow taxis, roaring motorcycles, bursts of laughter, music leaking from bars—
but she walked with a new certainty, as if each passing second pushed her further into an even darker version of herself.
A version that was free.
Untamable.
Alive.
And deep in her chest, her heart beat faster, harder—
as if it already knew the weight of that message,
as if it sensed, before she did,
that something was going to shift again tonight.
She tightened her grip on her phone, inhaled deeply, felt her new life pulsing beneath her skin—
and continued walking into the night.
The real story was beginning now.
⸻
The Black Orchid stood before her like a forbidden sanctuary—
a dark flower blooming in the nightlife, its tinted windows reflecting Seoul's neon in a hypnotic crimson glow.
The façade exuded a quiet luxury—
not the kind that begs to be admired,
but the kind that demands respect for what's hidden behind closed doors.
Nari inhaled deeply, resting her hand on the cold metal handle for a moment, feeling under her skin the faint tremor of her own heartbeat.
One pulse.
A second.
A third.
Then she stepped inside.
Warm air wrapped around her instantly, thick with polished wood, premium gin, heady perfumes, and low music vibrating in her ribs like a second breath.
The dim light glided over silhouettes at tables, amber glasses, elegant fingers stroking the rims of crystal cups, eyes heavy with secrets.
She didn't even get the chance to take a step forward before someone appeared in front of her—
as if the night had been waiting for her to begin.
A young woman.
Aera.
Her chestnut hair, pulled into a high ponytail that lightly brushed her back, caught the bar's warm lighting with golden softness.
Her eyes sparkled with a gentle, sincere energy—almost too pure for a place like this… and yet she fit perfectly into the dark atmosphere.
Her smile burst open—bright, open, disarming.
— You must be Nari?
Her voice was clear, crystalline—like a small bell rung delicately.
Nari nodded, despite herself her lips softened.
Aera radiated a warmth she hadn't felt from anyone in years—
an unforced kindness, a rare humanity.
— I'm Aera Lee, tonight's manager. Welcome to your new life, I guess?
She laughed softly, her perfume of vanilla and lemon wafting around her.
Something loosened in Nari's chest—
a knot she didn't even know she'd been carrying.
Aera wasn't like the women she had crossed paths with in recent months.
No jealousy in her eyes.
No arrogance.
No judgment.
Just… light.
— I think I'm really going to like you… Nari murmured, almost involuntarily.
Aera laughed—
a laugh that made a few heads turn.
— Of course! Everybody loves me. I'm adorable.
A man arrived exactly at that moment, completing the scene.
Ryo—black shirt open over an athletic chest, hair perfectly messy, easy smile.
— Ryo Tanaka. Nice to meet you! You'll see—here we work, but we also have fun.
Nari smiled.
A real smile.
One she hadn't allowed herself in so long.
The evening opened into something new…
something gentle, unexpected, almost comforting.
But that softness was only a prelude.
A calm before the impact.
Because later, while she was preparing a cocktail with perfect precision, the light tilted slightly, the ambient noise grew heavier, the bass deeper—
a tiny shift, but visceral.
Aera leaned toward her, her warm breath brushing Nari's ear.
— Careful… you've got a visitor tonight.
She murmured softly, but the words vibrated inside Nari like a distant alarm.
— He's… a little scary at first. But don't worry. He's not dangerous.
Nari raised an eyebrow, focusing on the shaker clacking between her hands.
— Who is it?
Aera smiled, but her eyes shifted subtly toward the entrance.
— Kai Ryou.
— Owner of the Black Orchid. And probably… the most mysterious man in the whole city.
As if his name were a secret signal, something shifted in the room.
A silent wave.
A collective exhale.
Heads turned.
And Nari looked up.
The world tightened around her.
He had just entered.
A man in a dark, perfectly tailored suit—
tall, controlled, moving with slow, deliberate confidence,
a predator gliding through a field of prey.
His black hair, slicked back, revealed a face carved in cold marble.
His woody, smoky perfume reached her even before he crossed half the bar.
But it was his gaze…
Those obsidian eyes.
Black.
Deep.
Devouring.
They found her immediately.
Locked on her.
Chose her.
The noise of the bar—voices, music, laughter—
all vanished inside her skull.
Her breath caught.
A brutal shiver climbed up her spine,
like someone had slipped a live wire under her skin.
She looked away first.
Her cheeks burning.
Her lips dry.
Her throat tight.
He smiled—
barely, just a corner of his mouth—
as if her reaction amused him,
as if he already knew the power he had over her.
And he walked toward her.
Slowly.
Inevitably.
Each step thudded like a drumbeat beneath her sternum.
When he spoke, his voice caressed her skin like dark velvet.
— Pleasure to meet you. Kai Ryou. Owner of the bar. Settling in well?
She lifted her eyes.
Forced herself.
And met his gaze.
Mistake.
Or destiny.
Her heart exploded against her ribs.
— Han Nari, she murmured. Thank you. Yes, everything's going well.
He sat at the bar.
Directly in front of her.
Time stretched out—
or maybe it was just her breath, her pulse, her skin—
that slowed under the weight of Kai's stare.
Because as she kept serving, smiling, pouring, mixing, sliding glasses across the counter with mechanical precision…
He didn't move.
He stayed in the same spot.
Stillness.
Silence.
And his obsidian eyes never left her.
Not once.