The master bedroom felt cavernous.Ahra lay on the edge of the vast king-sized mattress, staring at the ceiling, the cold side of the bed mocking her.
The marble clock on her dresser ticked past 3:00 AM.
He's at the other house tonight. With her.
Her husband hadn't even pretended.He left with a smug little smile, promising he'd be back "when he was in the mood for a proper wife again."
But even that ache wasn't the worst part.
No — the thing truly haunting her was the memory of the hotel bathroom.
The way that stall door had been shut, faint tremors rattling it…The soft, broken moans — unmistakable, raw.Then that final strangled cry that sounded so devastatingly sweet.
Ahra's thighs squeezed together under her silk nightgown. Her face burned in the dark.
How could anyone… do that there? Knowing someone could walk in?
She hated them.She envied them.
Three days later, she still hadn't shaken it.
Which was why she jumped a little when her driver announced:
"Madam, we're here. Velure set is in that clearing."
Ahra nodded stiffly. She'd come to check on the charity's side collaboration — hoping the sponsorship money might finally give her something of her own.
The outdoor shoot was breathtaking.A sprawling garden on the edge of Seoul's old palatial grounds, hedges carved into delicate mazes, roses dripping from lattices. Models glided around in ethereal gowns, cameras clicking.
And at the very center stood Yura.
Ahra's breath caught.It was the first time she'd seen her up close since that brief, shamed greeting at the gala.
Yura was in a flowing silver dress that caught every sunbeam, her long hair twisted up with tiny jeweled pins. Photographers fawned over her, makeup artists buzzed like bees.
She looked like a dream — or a queen.Ahra felt something ugly twist inside her chest.
When the crew paused for lighting adjustments, Yura caught sight of Ahra lingering by a stone fountain.
Her face softened.She excused herself and walked over, careful of her gown's long train.
"Ahra… it's been so long since we actually talked."
Ahra's composure nearly cracked.She reached out, clutching Yura's hands in hers.
"I didn't realize you'd gone so far. The new face of Velure… it's incredible."
Yura managed a strained smile.Inside, her heart thudded erratically. Being this close to Ahra — after that night — made her throat dry.
They sat on a bench under a lace-draped arbor.Birds chirped somewhere above, rose petals drifted down, absurdly delicate.
Ahra finally exhaled a shuddery breath.
"My marriage is… worse than it's ever been. He doesn't even come home half the week now. And when he does, he's cold. Or drunk."
Her voice broke.
"I tried to say something, at the gala. About him bringing her. And he — he slapped me, Yura. Right there by the elevator."
Yura's stomach twisted in horror.
"Ahra… I'm so sorry."
But Ahra just laughed — a brittle, painful sound.
"And you know what's worse? The other day, I heard… something at a hotel. I was in the bathroom, trying to pull myself together. And there was this couple. In the stall. Shameless. Like they wanted someone to hear."
She shivered, hands twisting together.
"It was filthy. It made me sick, honestly. The woman was moaning so loudly. Like she didn't care who knew. And for a moment — God help me, Yura — I wished it was me. I wished someone wanted me so much they couldn't wait."
Yura's blood ran cold.Her thighs pressed together under her dress, heart hammering.
She heard. She doesn't know it was me, but she heard everything.
Heat rose on her skin — shame and a mortifying ghost of arousal. The memory of Jinhyuk's hand on her throat, whispering about Ahra outside, clawed up her spine.
Ahra wiped her eyes.
"Sorry. That's horribly inappropriate, isn't it? I just… I don't even know why I'm telling you."
Yura forced herself to squeeze Ahra's hand.
"It's not inappropriate. You deserve to be wanted. To be worshiped."
The words tumbled out, and it shocked Yura how much she meant them.Even as her own mind twisted — because being wanted by Jinhyuk didn't feel like worship. It felt like being possessed.
Before they could go deeper, Yura's manager waved her over.
"We're resetting, Miss Han. They want you for the garden sequence."
She rose on autopilot, offering Ahra a trembling smile.
"Let's meet again soon. Just the two of us. Please."
Ahra nodded, eyes glistening.
As Yura walked away, her steps faltered, that confession echoing in her mind."I wished it was me."