Then Shin's voice, calm and even, finally came through:
"You should ask yourself, Sergei, why you woke up beside her at all."
Sergei froze on the other end.
"After all," Shin continued lazily, "I didn't put either of you in that bed. But perhaps, in your family's eagerness to play with fire, you tripped over your own matches."
"You—!" Sergei sputtered, at a loss for words.
Shin leaned back in his chair, eyes on the skyline. "I told your father once, greed breeds stupidity."
Then, without waiting for a response, he ended the call.
The steady hum of the office returned.
Shin picked up his pen, signed another document, and took a slow sip of coffee.
Secretary Yun, who had been standing quietly by the door, exhaled a silent breath of disbelief. He hadn't expected it to be Sergei Ricci who fell into the trap.
In hindsight, the man's reaction was… entirely reasonable.
Still, Sergei hadn't exactly been the target. His boss's instruction last night had been simple: Lock the person who comes looking for Calin Ricci inside that room.
Secretary Yun had assumed Calin would call one of her usual flings to help, perhaps a doctor, or someone who could bring an antidote. He hadn't expected her to call her brother.
That, however, also meant Sergei Ricci wasn't entirely ignorant of his sister's despicable plan to drug Shin Keir.
Secretary Yun shook his head inwardly. But as another thought crossed his mind, his expression turned complicated.
"Something?" Shin asked, glancing up from his papers when he noticed Secretary Yun's face twisting like he was battling an internal storm.
Secretary Yun's mouth twitched. He hesitated, then decided some thoughts were better left unsaid.
He wasn't exactly an expert in that area but if Sergei Ricci had been knocked unconscious by the sedative, then… surely he couldn't have, uh, performed?
Right?
Or… was it still somehow possible?
But then again, judging from the way Sergei had screamed over the phone like a wounded beast, perhaps his sister had violated him after all.
Secretary Yun's brain short-circuited. He quietly stepped back and focused on not thinking about it ever again.
---
Meanwhile, back at the establishment…
Sergei Ricci was in utter ruin. He tried calling Shin again several times like his fury might somehow rewrite reality, but he was already blocked.
He stared at his phone with bloodshot eyes, his mind blank and echoing.
When Calin stirred, murmuring faintly, Sergei flinched. The moment she moved again, he bolted for the bathroom and turned on the shower at full blast.
He scrubbed himself raw, but it felt as if thousands of invisible ants were crawling across his skin.
No matter how much he washed, it didn't change the horror in his head.
Then he caught sight of himself in the mirror with disheveled hair, red eyes, and faint marks around his neck and chest.
He gagged. Then vomited into the sink.
When he could finally breathe again, he stared blankly at his reflection, pale as a ghost.
Back in the room, Calin woke up slowly, her head pounding. She sat up, dazed, then groaned and flopped back down.
"What… what happened?" she mumbled, clutching her head.
She had no idea that her brother, just a few meters away, was having an existential breakdown in the bathroom.
Suddenly, Calin felt disoriented. A wave of nausea hit her hard, and no matter how she tried to recall what happened, her mind was blank.
She slowly pushed herself up from the bed only to double over and vomit.
Sergei, already dressed, walked out of the bathroom at that exact moment. The sight of her made his face twist in horror. He opened his mouth to yell, only to promptly spun around, rushed back into the bathroom, and started vomiting again.
Calin couldn't care less what kind of illness her brother was suffering. Realizing she was completely naked, she wrapped the blanket around herself and snapped, "Brother, I don't feel well. Call a doctor."
It took a while before Sergei reemerged, his eyes bloodshot, his complexion deathly pale, a mirror image of Calin's own miserable state.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" she groaned, slumped by the bedside.
"Can you be any more disgusting? If you're going to vomit, do it in the toilet!" he barked, pointing toward the bathroom.
Calin rolled her eyes, still dizzy. Her ears rang and her thoughts were scattered but fragments began surfacing. Shin Keir… that bastard had just watched while someone forced a pill down her throat. Then she'd called Sergei for help… and after that...
Her stomach churned again. "I said call a doctor! I feel like I'm dying!"
"Then drop dead already!" Sergei snapped, voice cracking as his restraint finally broke. "This is all your fault! Calin, this is the last time I'm helping you, you crazy bitch. I'm not your lapdog! From now on, I'm done with you, completely done! Having a psycho like you around makes me sick!"
Calin barely reacted. His yelling only made her headache worse.
Sergei kept ranting, cursing, insulting, even dragging up childhood grudges until Calin's hazy eyes caught something strange. There were faint red marks around his neck.
Her brows furrowed.
Instead of helping her, had this idiot actually fooled around last night while she was suffering?
Then another, far more alarming thought struck her.
Why was she naked?
She blinked at Sergei, her voice hoarse and suspicious. "Sergei Ricci… who did you send to me? Why am I naked?"
Sergei froze. His mouth opened, but no sound came out.
"I asked you for help, and your solution was to send a man?!" Calin snapped. "Do you have any idea what this could do to my image? And where's the antidote, huh?"
Sergei blinked rapidly, studying her expression as his heart began to race.
Could it be… she didn't remember?
"You… you don't remember anything?" he asked cautiously, voice trembling.
Calin glared, beads of sweat rolling down her temple. "Ahh… my head hurts so bad. You sick bastard, I told you to call a doctor! Are you trying to kill me?!"
Sergei just stared. Then it hit him, the drug. It must have caused her memory loss.
Given her personality, if she knew what actually happened, the building might already be on fire.
And just like that, Sergei began laughing loud, broken laughter echoing through the room.
To be fair, he didn't remember much either. He'd probably been knocked out the moment he entered. Maybe that was a blessing.
Still, knowing or not knowing didn't make him feel any better.
Then, as if a dam had burst, floods of resentment, bitterness, and rage came rushing through Sergei's chest.
Why?
Why should she be spared the torment while he had to live with that disgusting memory festering in his mind?
Why should he be the only one to suffer a breakdown?
He wouldn't even be in this nightmare if she hadn't called him in the first place.
"Calin, did your brain malfunction?" Sergei said between sharp, erratic laughs. "Do you see any other man around here? You might be dumb about a lot of things, but when it comes to men, oh, you're an expert!"
Calin stared at him wordlessly.
Has he gone mad?
Her temples throbbed, her stomach lurched. She didn't have the strength for this, she just wanted her phone, a doctor, anyone.
"Don't you remember? Not even a little?" Sergei demanded, stalking toward her. He grabbed her wrist, his fingers cold and shaking. "Who do you think did this to me, hmm?"
"What the hell are you acting crazy for?" Calin snapped, yanking her hand away. "Sergei Ricci, I'm warning you! If you're not helping, then f*ck off! Just you wait—"
But Sergei only tightened his grip, his eyes glassy and wild. "Why don't you remember?! You're the one who did this to me! If you've forgotten, then I'll just have to make you remember!"
Calin's vision swam. His voice sounded distant, echoing. The pounding in her head intensified until it felt like her skull would crack.
Then the nausea surged again, she doubled over and vomited violently.
"Ahhhhh!" Sergei stumbled back, startled, but before he could react, Calin fainted.
The nausea tore from him as he pushed her limp body away. Overcome with horror and disgust, he staggered toward the bathroom once more.
Moments later, the sound of running water and violent retching filled the air.
That morning, the room reeked of nausea, vomit, and mutual loathing.
---
Meanwhile, across the city, Lianna stared down at the document in her hands.
It was an official notice from the law firm, an apology letter stating they could no longer handle her divorce case "due to unforeseen complications."
She didn't need to guess who was behind it.
"Must be nice having so much money..." she muttered bitterly.
That day, Lianna went from one law office to another, but every firm she visited gave her the same evasive look, followed by polite excuses.
By afternoon, frustration drove her to a firm rumored to have mafia backing. But even there, they hesitated.
This time, at least, they explained.
The lawyer glanced over her file, frowning, and pointed at the cause she had written for the divorce: Irreconcilable differences.
It was weak. Even if her husband weren't Zahn Neri, her chances of winning were slim.
Lianna knew that. She'd known it from the start. But she'd assumed that, since she clearly stated she wanted nothing, not property, not money, not even custody of their son, Zahn Neri wouldn't make things difficult.
Yet not only had he refused to sign the papers, he'd also used his influence to pressure every law firm in the city to reject her case.
What was he playing at?
Shouldn't he be happy to finally be free? He could go date that woman openly, focus on his career, whatever he wanted.
Lianna sighed and sat down on a park bench, the same one where she'd first spoken with Yeri.
Yesterday, Yeri had sent her a message saying she'd been discharged from the hospital.
For a moment, Lianna just watched the wind move through the trees. The city was loud, busy, indifferent.
Looking up, majestic buildings gleamed beneath the sun, symbols of wealth and authority. Among them, one skyscraper towered above the rest, its name shining proudly at the top: KGG, the very epitome of power, pride, and sovereignty.
Lianna's gaze hardened. Her decision was made.