Seo Yoon-ah had always believed in leaving before things collapsed.
It was a survival instinct.
She stood by the window on the twenty-first floor, watching the traffic below crawl through the city like blood through veins. Hanseong Logistics should have been a stepping stone in her career.
Instead, it had become a sinking ship.
At least, that was what she had believed, until Kang Ji-hoon arrived.
Chairman's second son.
The title alone should have been a sufficient explanation.
Yet nothing about him fit the image she had imagined.
He wasn't arrogant.He wasn't loud.He didn't flaunt his power.
He watched.
Yoon-ah turned back to her desk, eyes lingering on the tablet in her hands. The resignation letter she had prepared weeks ago still sat in her email drafts.
She hadn't deleted it.
Not yet.
The boardroom meeting replayed in her mind.
The calm way he dismantled years of denial.The precision of his words.The moment he dismissed an executive without raising his voice.
That wasn't confidence, she realized. That was certain.
Certainty only came from someone who already knew the outcome.
Her phone vibrated.
Kang Ji-hoon:Come to the strategy room. Now.
No greeting. No explanation.
Her lips curved slightly despite herself.
Typical.
The strategy room was dim, with low lights and screens glowing with data. Ji-hoon stood alone, jacket off, sleeves rolled up, studying shipment routes on the wall.
He looked… different like this.
Less untouchable.
"You called?" Yoon-ah asked.
"Yes," he said, turning. "Sit."
She did.
"I read your resignation letter," Ji-hoon said.
Her breath hitched. "You shouldn't have access to that."
"I shouldn't," he agreed. "But I do."
She crossed her arms. "Then you know why I wrote it."
"I do," he said. "You were tired of fixing problems no one wanted solved."
Her eyes widened slightly.
He continued, "You didn't lack ability. You lacked authority."
Silence filled the room.
Yoon-ah looked away first.
"Why me?" she asked quietly. "There are people with better titles."
Ji-hoon walked closer, stopping at a safe distance away.
"Because you leave when things turn ugly," he said. "And I need someone who understands timing."
She laughed softly. "You make it sound like a compliment."
"It is."
She studied him carefully now.
There was sadness behind his calm. Experience that didn't belong to a man his age.
"Second Young Master," she said slowly, "you act like someone who's already failed once."
Ji-hoon didn't deny it.
Instead, he said, "Will you stay?"
Not as an order.
As a request.
Yoon-ah closed her eyes briefly.
She thought of the resignation letter.Of the safe path she had always chosen.Of the strange pull she felt toward this man, who spoke like the future owed him something.
"…One month," she said again.
Ji-hoon nodded. "That's all I need."
Rain began tapping softly against the windows.
Yoon-ah stood to leave, then paused.
"Kang Ji-hoon."
"Yes?"
"If this works," she said, not turning around, "you'll change a lot of people's lives."
His voice was low. "I know."
As she walked out, her heart beat faster than it should have.
She didn't know why yet.
But for the first time, she hoped her instincts were wrong.
And that she wouldn't leave.