Namjoon sat behind the massive mahogany desk like he had been carved into it, still, composed, untouchable. The desk lamp cast a muted glow across his sharp features, tracing the clean lines of his jaw and the quiet authority in his posture. Contracts layed stacked with military precision, a laptop opened beside a leather-bound ledger. He adjusted his cufflinks, skimmed a report, then tapped his pen once against the polished surface.
Everything in the study spoke of control. Rich wood. Leather. The faint, calculated trace of his cologne. A deliberate calm built to cage chaos.
For hours, numbers and clauses had flowed through his mind in a steady rhythm, one he barely needed to think about anymore.
The silence was almost meditative.
Then the door slammed open.
Seo-ra stormed in like a crack of thunder, fury written into every step. Her heels struck the floor with purpose, eyes blazing as she crossed the room and slammed a document onto his desk.
"A restriction letter?" she shouted.
"Seriously?"
Namjoon didn't even flinch. He looked up slowly, eyes cold, assessing her like an inconvenience.
"Who let you in here?" he asked, unfazed by the storm she was trying to create.
Seo-ra let out a sharp, humorless laugh, tipping her head back as if the ceiling itself had offended her. Without warning, her hand shot out for the glass of water resting beside his desk.
The water flew.
It shattered against him, glass exploding as it hit the floor.
"Hey, Hwan Namjoon," she laughed again, voice cracking at the edges. "What do you think I am? Some toy you get to play with?"
She jabbed a finger at the papers.
"I signed the divorce papers, didn't I? So why—why—did you send me a restriction letter too?"
Namjoon rose slowly from his chair, calm but lethal.
"Seo-ra," he said evenly, authority laced into every syllable, "I believe you've forgotten your place. Leave quietly, before I lose my patience."
She scoffed.
"What patience?" Her eyes burned. "You can't lose what you never had Nam-joon."
She stepped closer. "You're nothing but a heartless jerk trying to make your daughter motherless."
His expression hardened.
"Might I remind you," Namjoon shot back, voice sharp as steel, "Kira is not your daughter. She never has been. And she never will be."
Seo-ra laughed, low and cruel.
"I never thought you could sink this low."
She tilted her head, brows lifting mockingly.
"But does she know?"
Namjoon stilled.
"Does your precious daughter know I'm not her mother? That she doesn't have one? That even you don't know who her real mother is?" She smiled. "That her mother was a nobody, a cheap girl you paid to give you a child?" She leaned in. "Does she know… or should I be the one to tell her?"
The door clicked open.
Soft. Quiet.
Kira stood there, clutching her doll tightly to her chest. Her small fingers trembled. Her eyes shimmered as they met her father's.
Something in Namjoon cracked.
"Kira—"
He stepped forward instinctively, reaching for her.
She ran.
The sound of her feet echoed as she disappeared down the hall.
"Oops," Seo-ra said lightly. "Guess I don't have to anymore."
"Seo-ra—!" Namjoon shouted.
But she was already turning on him.
"Don't you dare," she snapped. "I made things easier for you." Her voice shook with buried resentment. "I never wanted a child. It was always you. I told you that. But because of your desperation, I let you hire a surrogate."
She laughed bitterly.
"I took care of her as if she were my own. And now you want to blame me?" Her eyes burned. "If Kira is never happy, it will be because of you. You ruined her—just like you ruined me."
She stepped back.
"You will never be the best father. You'll always be the worst."
And she left.
—
Kira stumbled down the stairs blindly, tears streaming, her sobs stealing the air from her lungs. She didn't see where she was going, until she crashed straight into Ye-seul.
"Kira?" Ye-seul gasped.
"I don't want to talk to anyone!" Kira cried, trying to pull away.
Ye-seul immediately crouched, pulling her into a tight embrace, one hand gently patting her hair.
"What happened?" she whispered, concern heavy in her voice. "Who made you cry like this?"
Seo-ra's voice sliced through the moment.
"If anyone knows how to hurt a child, it's this wretched, over-glorified family of yours."
Ye-seul stiffened as Seo-ra descended the stairs.
"Seo-ra," Ye-seul said sharply. "What did you do to her?"
Seo-ra scoffed. "Me? It's funny how you all line out the blame on someone else when the slightest happens. I already told you—if she's hurt, blame them."
She stepped closer.
Ye-seul met her gaze, unflinching.
"I don't care what's happening between you and him," she said coldly. "I'm asking you one last time, what did you do to her?"
"Don't you dare talk to me like that, you spoiled brat," Seo-ra snapped. "I tolerated you because I was tied to this family."
She looked down at Kira.
"Now that I'm not, keep your threats to yourself."
Kira folded deeper into Ye-seul's arms, fear etched into her small face.
"You never had the potential to be my daughter," Seo-ra said flatly.
"You're just like the rest of them. One day you'll realize they don't love anyone but themselves, one day you'd realize I was the only person who ever considered you, they are all hypocrites and you'd become one too."
She spat and walked out without looking back.
"Unnie…" Kira whispered through sobs. "Is it true, do I really not have a mother?"
Ye-seul smiled sadly, brushing her hair back.
"I'd rather you have none," she said softly, "than have someone like her."
She hugged her tighter.
"She never deserved you."
Kira clung to her until sleep finally claimed her.
Moment later when Ye-seul finished laying Kira in bed, the door opened quietly.
Namjoon stood there.
For the first time, he looked lost.Tired. Confused. Like a man stripped of answers.
Relief crossed his face when he saw Ye-seul.
She exhaled slowly.
"What happened between you two," she asked calmly, "and why did you drag the child into it?"
Namjoon shook his head, words failing him.
"What are you going to do?" she asked.
"I… don't know," he admitted, voice barely steady. "Can you stay with Kira until I return?"
"Oppa—" she began.
"Please," he said quietly.
And then walked away.
For the first time Ye-seul felt pained for her brother, it was the first time she considered him human, she had always wanted to see him break character at least once, but never this way.