At the time after the confrontation with Jen Heo Won, Rae Yoorin was very drunk. Her head spun and her steps wavered as she stumbled along the quiet street.
By chance, her eyes fell on Shan Wolf standing in the distance, and in that fleeting moment, her heart twisted.
So she did it—she went to him. She thought that maybe it was guilt and pity that pushed her forward, maybe because she felt bad.
Or maybe, deep inside, she had grown to like Shan Wolf despite everything he had done to her.
But she just couldn't do it.
Now, in the present, as she opened the door to her apartment, the faint click of the lock echoed louder than usual.
Her gaze instantly froze at the sight before her. Lined neatly across the living room floor were luxurious bags—Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Chanel, and other glittering brands, each one mocking her with their gleam.
Her fingers tightened until her knuckles turned pale, clutching another bag in her hand.
A single bag that Shan Wolf had bought for her, a dress he insisted on paying for because she had forgotten her wallet that day.
Her chest trembled as she whispered to herself, voice cracking.
"This isn't even worth it…"
Her body shook, her lips quivering as if the words themselves burned her throat.
"IT'S NOT WORTH IT, FUCK DAMN IT!!!"
Her scream tore through the silence as she flung the bag with all her strength. It crashed onto the pile of luxury gifts Jen Heo Won had given her, each brand-name package now a suffocating reminder that her time was ticking away.
Her breath came in sharp, uneven pants. She staggered back, knees buckling until they struck the cold floor. She stayed there, kneeling in the middle of the room, shoulders collapsing, defeated.
Humiliation pressed down like a heavy weight, forcing her into the ground, leaving her disgusted with herself.
Her eyes stung, her fists clenching against her thighs as she bowed her head.
"I… am so pathetic."
The words slipped out, soft but raw, echoing through the dim apartment like a confession she could never take back.
Later that night, Rae Yoorin stepped out of the shower, steam still clinging faintly to her skin. She slipped into a loose t-shirt and a pair of small sports underwear, the kind she usually wore to sleep. Her damp hair clung softly to her cheeks as she moved to switch off the lights, ready to crawl into bed and escape the weight of her thoughts.
But just as she pulled the sheets back, the sudden sound of the doorbell echoed through her apartment.
Her brows furrowed in question. At this hour? Slowly, she padded across the floor, bare feet against the cold tiles, and reached for the handle. She pulled the door open—and froze.
Standing outside was Shan Wolf.
"Shan? What are you doing here?" Rae Yoorin asked, her voice caught between surprise and unease.
"My apologies if I bother you at this hour, Rae Yoorin," Shan Wolf said, his expression unreadable. "But I was wondering if you've seen my phone."
"I went back to where we've been, but I couldn't find it," he added, almost matter-of-fact.
"Oh… oh, no. I haven't seen it," Rae Yoorin stuttered, eyes darting briefly before returning to him. "If there's nothing else, you should go."
She started to close the door, but Shan Wolf's hand pressed firmly against it, stopping her. His gaze sharpened.
"Are you sure? This is no game, Yoorin."
Her throat tightened. She lowered her eyes, clutching the edge of the door.
"I… I haven't seen it, Shan," she replied quietly.
He studied her face carefully, his eyes narrowing as though searching for a lie hidden in her expression. After a moment, he gave a low hum.
"Hmm… okay." His tone softened, but his eyes didn't. "But are you alright? Why do you look so down when I got you that dress?"
Rae Yoorin folded her arms defensively across her chest, leaning her shoulder against the doorway. She forced a small shrug, avoiding his gaze.
"It's nothing, really. Just tired," she said, her voice faint, almost dismissive.
But as Rae Yoorin looked at him, she spoke, her tone carrying a trace of bitterness.
"Funny how you're worried about me," she said.
Shan Wolf tilted his head slightly, almost amused.
"Really? I don't know… maybe I've grown attached to you."
Rae Yoorin's eyes widened at that single word—attached. The sound of it lingered in her chest, unsettling yet strangely warm.
As Shan Wolf turned, preparing to leave, something inside her snapped.
"Wait—"
She reached out, stopping him, then suddenly wrapped her arms tightly around him from behind. Her face pressed against his back, trembling.
"Don't go…" she murmured, voice shaking.
"Huh?" Shan Wolf froze, confusion flickering in his eyes.
"I said, don't go." Her grip tightened, desperate. "You're such a fool, Shan Wolf."
Before he could answer, she pulled him back inside the apartment, slamming the door shut with her heel.
Her lips crashed onto his in a fierce, unrestrained kiss, her fingers gripping the collar of his white shirt as though she would never let go.
She broke the kiss for just a breath, eyes burning with unspoken emotion.
"Why…" she whispered, her forehead pressed to his.
"Why are you so nice to me?"
Meanwhile, somewhere high above the city, in a fancy skyscraper restaurant, Ingrid Mikage sat alone at her table.
A half-filled glass of champagne glimmered beside her, and in front of her, a slice of strawberry cake with a scoop of ice cream slowly melting on top.
She lifted the glass to her lips, taking a small sip, the bubbles fizzing faintly against her tongue.
She wore a short, black, revealing dress that showed off her cleavage and thighs with daring intensity, though it was partly hidden beneath a brown trench coat draped over her shoulders.
The dim orange light above her reflected in her violet-blue eyes, making them glow faintly.
Her posture was poised, elegant, and unfazed—her body a feast to the eyes of the men around her, though none could ever claim her.
As she lowered her gaze to the cake, she watched the ice cream sink and slide, melting slowly into the strawberries.
Her mind wandered, unbidden, back to her daughter's words, words that still stung deep within her chest.
"If you like young guys so much, go fucking live with them. I feel more comfortable without you around."
Kim Yeon Mikage's voice replayed in her head as she lifted the fork and took a bite of the cake. The sweetness hit her tongue, but her lips curled faintly in disappointment.
"It's… a little stale," Ingrid murmured, setting the fork back down. Her eyes lingered on the table, unfocused, heavy with thought.
"Do you know who I do this all for…?" she whispered softly to herself, her heart twisting with regret for not saying those very words to her daughter.
The minutes ticked by in silence, broken only by the soft hum of the restaurant. Then, a voice called to her.
"Ma'am…?"
Ingrid lifted her head and turned.
Standing there was Bae Sik Gong, his face marred with light bruises.
"Uh… Mr. Gong," Ingrid said, her brows tightening. "What happened to your face?"
Her words cut through the dim light, the champagne untouched beside her.
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Chapter 52 — End