I stood outside Mr. Jeon's mansion like the world's most underpaid, underappreciated, and extremely fashionable scarecrow. My job? Stand there awkwardly, hands glued to my bag, waiting for the boss who told me to "shut up" like he was auditioning for Mean Girls: CEO Edition.
The air was so quiet I could literally hear my dignity evaporating. And then—
Ahem.
Someone cleared their throat. Not right beside me, but a few feet away, which in horror movie terms is basically a jump scare. I spun around so fast I almost gave myself whiplash.
And there he was.
Mr. Junghyun.
Standing like he had teleported straight out of a suspicious K-drama subplot.
My eyes widened. "Mr. Junghyun?!?!"
The man in question, who looked like a corporate chaebol straight out of a K-drama but with dad vibes, raised an unimpressed brow at me. He looked like someone who was about three seconds away from saying "are you dumb?" but was too polite to ruin his Armani suit with that kind of vocabulary.
