Chapter 44

Sera’s POV

I didn’t sleep last night.

The phone lit up my room again and again, but never with his reply. My messages, my calls—they all went unanswered. Each hour that passed without a word from him coiled inside my chest like a knot tightening, dragging me somewhere between worry and rage.

By morning, my patience had worn thin. I didn’t bother texting again—I wanted answers face to face. I drove straight to the restaurant.

But just as I was about to arrive, I spotted him. Relief nearly washed over me… until I saw who was beside him. Walking with him as if she belonged there was Yuna.

I stopped the car not far from them, my mind going blank. For a moment, I thought my eyes were deceiving me. But no—there was no mistaking that elegant posture, that blonde hair. It was Yuna.

And Haemin was right there at her side… before slipping into Yuna’s car.

Something inside me snapped.

My blood ran cold. How did she know him? Since when? How? Why hadn’t he told me?

Questions clawed at my head, each one sharper than the last, until I felt I might explode from the sudden storm of it all. Enough! I screamed to myself. If he wouldn’t give me answers, then I’d drag the truth out of him.

The car was about to pull away. I couldn’t let that happen. I pressed the accelerator, swerving forward to block Yuna’s path, and stepped out of my car—calmly, deliberately.

I didn’t hesitate. I stood squarely in front of the hood. The air felt sharp as I met Yuna’s gaze through the glass.

Her eyes narrowed. The car door opened.

She stepped out gracefully. Her presence carried weight, enough to make passersby glance twice. But I held my ground. Because Yuna is not someone I can’t handle.

“…Hwang Sera,” she said, as if my name were something distasteful on her tongue. “Of all place, you choose to appear here?”

My lips curled faintly. “You make it sound like coincidence.”

Her heels tapped once against the pavement, a deliberate sound. The air between us grew heavy, and still, I didn’t flinch. 

My eyes slid past her, straight to Haemin inside the car. His face was pale, lips pressed tight, caught like a rabbit between two predators. My chest tightened.

I lifted my hand and pointed directly at him. “I don’t have business with you, Yuna. I have business with him.”

The look she gave me darkened, confusion flashing only briefly before it hardened back into stone. “What do you mean by that?”

I didn’t bother answering her. My focus stayed on him.

The car door opened, and he stepped out slowly, cautiously, like he was walking into a storm he wanted no part of. When his eyes met mine, just for that fleeting moment, the tightness in my chest eased. But then he hesitated, standing too close to her, as if tethered by invisible strings.

I hated it.

“Haemin,” I called softly, firmly. “Get in my car. Now.”

For a second, I thought he might. But then his eyes darted between us, panic flickering there. His silence was answer enough.

Yuna’s voice cut through the air like a knife. “Hey, Sera. What do you think you’re doing?”

I turned my gaze back on her, crossing my arms. A scoff left my lips. “That’s rich, coming from you. Shouldn’t I be asking you the same thing? Since when does the chairwoman of Nara Group find it amusing to drag around a nineteen-year-old boy like this?”

Her expression didn’t falter, but I saw it—the faint curve of her lips, a sharp smile without warmth.

“And what I do with him,” she said coolly, “is none of your concern.”

And just like that, Yuna and I went back and forth, neither of us willing to stand down. Our bodies were almost touching, the air between us tight with defiance.

“S-Stop. Please… don’t fight.” Haemin’s voice broke through, trembling, desperate.

But neither of us spared him a glance. My gaze locked on Yuna’s, hers locked on mine—two storms colliding, with him helplessly caught in the eye of it.

From the edge of my vision, I caught people slowing their steps, whispering, their curious eyes flicking between us. But I didn’t care. 

Finally, Haemin moved. His feet carried him to Yuna’s side—her side—and my chest tightened painfully. He reached for her arm, gently tugging, as if to calm her down.

“Yuna, please,” he said softly. His voice wasn’t steady, but it was enough to cut me.

My stomach dropped. Why her? Why did he speak to her like that?

I didn’t even realize my expression had hardened until I heard my own voice, low and sharp. “Haemin. What’s the meaning of this?”

He turned to me, his eyes full of conflict, but his words stabbed like glass. “That’s enough, Miss Sera. There’s no need for you to interfere any further.”

Miss Sera.

Only then did it strike me—he had always been this formal with me, as if I were nothing more than a stranger passing through his life. My throat tightened, the edges of my composure beginning to crack.

I stepped forward, reaching for him, needing to anchor him before he slipped too far from me. “Haemin. I’m not done talking with you—”

But before I could touch him, Yuna’s hand shot out, catching my wrist mid-air.

Her grip was iron. Not cruel, but unyielding. I froze, staring down at her hand, then up into her cold, sharp eyes.

“Haemin is under my care,” she said. Each word was deliberate, dripping with ownership. “That’s all you need to know.”

The world narrowed to the pressure on my wrist and the calm arrogance in her voice. She wasn’t just claiming authority—she was claiming him.

Rage burned in my chest, but I refused to let her see me falter. My lips curved, not into a smile, but something mocking, defiant. “Is that so?”

With a sharp twist, I yanked my hand free.

Her smirk didn’t fade. If anything, it deepened.

Without another word, she turned her back on me and walked toward her car, heels clicking steadily against the pavement.

And he, Haemin, hesitated only a moment before following her.

I watched his back as he slid into the passenger seat again, my pulse roaring in my ears.

The engine came alive with a low growl.

Through the windshield, I caught the outline of his face—pale, jaw clenched tight. But he never looked back. Not once.

My fists clenched at my sides, nails biting into my palms until I thought they might break skin. Still, I couldn’t tear my eyes away as the car rolled forward, carrying him away from me.

Only when the taillights disappeared down the street did I let the breath escape me, shaky and raw.

Anger. Frustration. Hurt. It all twisted together, thick and suffocating.

He hadn’t chosen me. He hadn’t even tried.

But this wasn’t the end.

I straightened my shoulders, forcing the ache back into the depths of my chest. My gaze lingered on the empty street where their car had gone.

________

The suite door shut behind me with a muted click, but the silence that followed wasn’t comforting—it was suffocating.

I tossed my handbag onto the sofa and began pacing, my heels striking against the polished marble, each step a sharp beat mirroring the storm inside me.

I bit my lip hard. “How…? How do they know each other?”

Is she… his girlfriend?

No. My lips pressed into a thin line. That couldn’t be right. Haemin never once said her name. If they were dating, wouldn’t there be some sign?

But what if it wasn’t just dating?

My breath hitched, and I stopped mid-step.

What if they’re married?

I shook my head immediately, almost laughing at myself. “No. That’s impossible,” I whispered to the empty room. “Neither of them wears a ring.”

Yet doubt clung to me like smoke. Haemin’s face flashed in my memory—his awkward smile, his uneasy glances, the way he always seemed uncomfortable when we went out together.

Could that be why?

Because his heart already belonged to someone else?

A bitter laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it. I pressed a hand to my mouth, but the sound kept coming, sharp and hollow. If it were true… then Haemin, you were cruel.

I snatched up my phone, dialing his number with trembling fingers. I needed to hear it from him, the truth, anything. But the call wouldn’t connect. I tried again, and again. Nothing. A message—only one tick. My breath caught. Had he already blocked me?

“Tch.” I bit down hard on my lip, irritation twisting in my chest until the corner of my mouth almost bled.

This uncertainty, it was unbearable. It was killing me.

I needed to know the truth.

Not knowing—it was driving me insane

Finally, I sank onto the edge of the sofa, eyes closed as I forced myself to breathe. The storm inside me raged, but little by little, my pulse began to settle. Minutes passed before I felt the tightness ease, enough to gather myself again.

When I opened my eyes, the calm had returned.

After a few minutes of silence, I rose to my feet, picked up my phone from the table, and dialed a number.

Mina answered almost instantly. “Yes, Vice-Chairwoman?”

“Mina,” I said evenly, “I want you to check something for me. I’ll send you the details. I expect the report today—and this stays between us.”

“Understood.” Her voice was crisp, professional, though I could hear the edge of curiosity she dared not voice.

I ended the call, exhaling slowly. My thumb hovered over the screen for a moment before I began typing out the message. The details were vague enough not to leave traces, but precise enough that Mina would know exactly where to look.

Once the message was sent, I lowered the phone onto the desk. My gaze lifted back to the window, the city lights sprawling endlessly below. I stood there, unmoving, my reflection faintly visible in the soft light spilling through the windows.

After a long, silent moment, I picked up the phone again.

The line connected, and I pressed it to my ear, my expression cold, stripped of every trace of earlier frenzy. My eyes were flat, distant, as I stared out over the city.

When the voice on the other end answered, I didn’t waste time with pleasantries.

“Yes, Minister Jang. It’s time you paid the favor you owe me.”