Mira's phone rang just as Eun-ji's heels clicked down the hallway.
Unknown Caller.
She hesitated, then answered.
"Ms. Yoon."
Chairman Park's voice was like gravel, colder than she remembered.
Mira's grip tightened on the phone. "Chairman Park."
A pause. Then—
"You will meet me. Tonight. Eight o'clock at the Han River docks. Pier 12."
It wasn't a request.
Mira exhaled slowly. "Why?"
"To discuss my son's future," he said, his tone sharp. "Unless you've already decided to ruin it completely."
The line went dead.
Mira lowered the phone, staring at the newspaper on her desk—Jae's face splashed across the front page, his expression resolute as he walked away from everything.
Her chest ached.
Ji-hoon poked his head in. "Everything okay?"
Mira folded the paper, shoving it into her bag. "I have to go."
The docks were quiet at night, the river lapping against the wooden piers. A single yacht was moored at Pier 12, its lights glowing against the dark water.
Chairman Park stood on deck, his back to her, hands clasped behind him.
Mira climbed the gangway, her pulse loud in her ears.
"You came," he said without turning.
"You didn't give me much choice."
He finally faced her, his expression unreadable in the dim light. "Do you love him?"
The question, the same one his wife had asked, caught her off guard.
Mira lifted her chin. "That's not why I'm here."
"Answer the question."
She held his gaze. "Yes."
Chairman Park studied her for a long moment. Then—
"Then prove it."
Mira blinked. "What?"
He pulled an envelope from his coat, tossing it onto the table between them. "Resignation papers. For you. Effective immediately."
Her breath hitched.
"Leave the company. Leave Seoul. And most importantly—" His eyes hardened. "Leave him."
Mira's hands curled into fists. "You can't be serious."
"Deadly." He stepped closer. "You want what's best for him? Then walk away. Because if you stay, he will lose everything. And eventually—" His voice dropped. "He will blame you."
The words slithered under her skin, icy and insidious.
Mira reached for the envelope, her fingers brushing the crisp paper.
Then she let it fall back onto the table.
"No."
Chairman Park's jaw tightened. "Excuse me?"
"I said no." Mira straightened, her voice steady for the first time all night. "If Jae wants me to leave, he can tell me himself. Until then, I'm not going anywhere."
Silence.
Then—
A slow clap echoed from the shadows.
Jae stepped onto the deck, his expression fierce. "Took you long enough."
Mira's heart leapt. "Jae—?"
His father whirled. "You—"
"I told you," Jae said, cutting him off, his voice quiet but razor-sharp, "I'm done playing by your rules."
He crossed to Mira, his hand finding hers. "Let's go."
Chairman Park's face darkened. "If you walk away now—"
Jae didn't look back. "Then I guess we're both disowned."
And with that, he led Mira down the gangway, leaving his father standing alone on the deck, the envelope crumpled under his fist.
---
The moment they stepped off the yacht, Jae's grip on Mira's hand tightened.
"Run," he murmured.
And they did.
Their shoes pounded against the wooden dock, the cool night air whipping past them as they sprinted toward the parking lot. Behind them, Chairman Park's furious shouts echoed over the lapping waves, but neither of them looked back.
Jae's car—a sleek black sedan—was parked haphazardly near the entrance, the engine already running. He yanked the passenger door open for Mira before sliding into the driver's seat.
The tires screeched as they peeled out of the lot.
Mira clutched the dashboard, her breath coming in sharp gasps. "Jae—what the hell was that?"
He didn't answer immediately, his jaw set as he navigated the winding roads away from the river. The city lights blurred past, casting fleeting shadows across his face.
Finally, he exhaled. "That was me finally choosing me."
Mira turned to study him—the way his fingers flexed around the steering wheel, the tension in his shoulders, the quiet fire in his eyes. This wasn't the polished heir she'd first reconnected with. This was Jae. Unfiltered. Unrestrained.
And he was driving them god-knows-where with nothing but the clothes on their backs.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
Jae's lips quirked. "Anywhere."
The Getaway
They didn't stop until the city was far behind them, the roads narrowing into countryside lanes. Jae pulled into the gravel lot of a secluded motel—the kind with flickering neon signs and peeling paint, the kind no one would think to look for them in.
The clerk barely glanced up as Jae paid in cash, handing over a single key attached to a faded plastic tag.
Room 7 smelled like mothballs and lemon cleaner, the floral bedspread slightly damp from humidity. But it had a lock. A roof. And, most importantly, no prying eyes.
Mira sank onto the edge of the bed, adrenaline still humming in her veins. "So. We've officially lost our minds."
Jae tossed his keys onto the dresser, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. "About time, don't you think?"
She huffed a laugh, shaking her head. "Your father is going to lose it."
"Let him." Jae sat beside her, his shoulder brushing hers. "I meant what I said, Mira. I'm done."
The weight of his words settled between them.
Mira swallowed. "What happens now?"
Jae turned to face her fully, his gaze unwavering. "Now? We breathe."
And for the first time in what felt like forever, Mira did.
Next Day
Sunlight streamed through the thin curtains, painting stripes across the worn carpet. Mira woke to the smell of coffee and the sound of Jae's voice murmuring on the phone.
She sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Who is it?"
Jae hung up, handing her a steaming cup. "No one important."
Mira arched a brow.
He sighed. "My mother. She's… handling things."
Mira sipped the coffee—bitter, too strong, perfect. "And your father?"
Jae's expression darkened. "Not our problem."
Her phone buzzed. A news alert:
"PARK GROUP IN CHAOS: Heir's Sudden Disappearance Sends Stocks Plummeting."
Jae plucked the phone from her hands, tossing it onto the nightstand. "Nope. Not today."
Mira opened her mouth to protest—
He kissed her.
Short. Sweet. Effective.
When he pulled back, his eyes were alight with something Mira had never seen before—freedom.
"Pack a bag," he murmured against her lips. "We're leaving."