An hour later, the leaderboard changed again.
My name was back at the top.
The whispers started up instantly, a hive of voices buzzing through the halls. Who was behind the mysterious rankings? Who dared challenge me?
But after my encounter with Yoona, their gossip collapsed into silence. No one dared accuse me now. They didn't have anything better to do than chase the phantom "mastermind" hiding in the shadows.
I stayed where I was, my eyes lingering on the glowing projector screen.
My name burned at the very top.
My reputation wasn't "good." It wasn't "bad." It was perfect. Untouchable. That perfection was what made them fear me—because the second a threat rises, I'll crush it without hesitation.
Respect. That was what mattered. Respect, not love. Not pity.
And I'd do anything to keep my crown.
The real question was…
Who would be next to challenge me?
***
"Class, we have a new student today."
Ms. Lin's smile was too sweet, too forced.
"I'd like you all to welcome him and make him feel… comfortable."
Her eyes flicked to me with a sharp glare.
I see. I usually make people feel… uncomfortable.
She gestured, and the new student shuffled in.
Skinny frame. Slouched shoulders. A baggy uniform two sizes too big. He looked like he'd borrowed it from someone who didn't want it back.
Nothing flashy. Nothing bold. Forgettable.
The type of boy you could pass in the hallway a hundred times and you'd never notice him.
"This is Lee Joon," Ms. Lin announced. "Would you like to share a fun fact about yourself?"
He shook his head. No words. No effort. Just walked to the only empty desk—right beside mine.
Of course. The universe never misses an opportunity for irony.
The room froze. All eyes flicked to him, then to me.
But I didn't flinch. As long as he didn't breathe the wrong way, he could sit in the Devil's seat if he wanted.
"What are you doing? Get up!" hissed the boy next to him.
"Why?" Joon's tone was flat. "What's wrong?"
The student's eyes darted nervously toward me.
"That's Park Chaeyoung. The President's daughter. You don't sit next to her."
Joon blinked, then glanced at me. His lips parted slightly, curious.
"What do you mean? She's human, isn't she? She doesn't look bothered."
Then, softer, almost to himself: "Or does she?"
The whispering scraped against my nerves like nails on glass. I snapped my head up.
"What?!"
The single word sliced through the room. The whispers died instantly.
The boy beside Joon swallowed hard and muttered, "I warned you."
Joon didn't move. He just smiled at me.
I rolled my eyes and looked away. Dismissed.
When class ended, I was out the door before the bell finished echoing.
But his footsteps trailed after mine.
"Hi, I'm—"
My glare cut him off mid-syllable.
His feet seemed to glue to the floor. He froze there, pathetic. For one stupid second, he looked like a deer caught in headlights.
I kept walking. He wasn't worth the time.
The rest of the day blurred past.
***
At home, I sprawled on my bed, scrolling mindlessly through my phone. My feed was filled with rumors and gossip about the "elite." The "perfect." Me.
I sighed and tossed the phone aside.
Joon's words still echoed in my head: "Isn't she human?"
If only.
But no one ever saw me as human. Not really. Not with pure intentions. Not without envy or malice.
Respect. Fear. Those I could trust. But kindness? That was a foreign language.
And yet… for two seconds, from a boy with a crooked smile, I had heard it. Genuine. Uncalculated. And somehow, it stuck.
A knock interrupted my thoughts.
"Come in," I muttered.
A maid entered, bowing so low her back bent like someone positioned her so they could do something.
"Mr. Park requests your presence at dinner. By eight. He said he would appreciate it if you came."
My dismissal was instant.
"Tell him I have better things to do."
She stayed frozen, bow still unbroken.
I pushed off the bed, disgust curling my lip.
"The door's that way."
Her voice cracked as she spoke. "I'm sorry, ma'am. He said… he won't take no for an answer."
Of course he wouldn't. He never does.
"Fine," I muttered, waving her off. "Tell him I'll come. Now go."
She bowed again and slipped out.
Dinner.
Which meant Gaon—the most expensive restaurant in Seoul. The entire place had been booked out for one man. My father.
***
I arrived in a white-gold Yumi Katsura diamond dress worth $8.5 million. A dress that could fund a generation, wasted on my shoulders.
My father sat at the head of a private table. And beside him—of course—her. Eunji.
I signaled my bodyguards to wait outside and slid into the seat across from them.
"I'm glad you came," Father said smoothly.
"Like I had a choice," I replied, eyes fixed on the menu.
I ordered foie gras. Because why not. Waste was expected here.
For a while, silence pretended to be peace. Until Father shattered it.
"I wanted to speak about the future of our family… the four of us."
My eyes snapped up.
"You see, your mother here—"
"My mother?" I cut him off. "Don't. Don't ever put that word in her mouth."
The temperature dropped. Chairs creaked. Eunji shifted but said nothing.
"You dragged me here for this?" I spat. "I don't care about your pathetic playhouse marriage. Leave me out of it."
I stood, fire in my chest.
"I hate fake people," I hissed, eyes drilling into Eunji.
"Park Chaeyoung!" Father's roar shook the room. His face flushed crimson.
"You ill-mannered child!"
I smirked, the venom in my tone unshakable.
"Me? Ill-mannered? Maybe. But at least I'm not pretending. You never cared about me—don't start now. Save your love for your... she's not even your wife."
Eunji raised her hands delicately, voice soft, coaxing.
"Let's calm down and talk this over—"
"Talk over what? Your stolen fairytale?" My laugh was sharp, humorless. "Keep it. I'm done."
I grabbed my bag and stormed out, heels striking like gunshots.
Outside, the night air blew on my skin. But it was cleaner than the poison inside.
My limousine pulled up, and I waited, arms crossed, staring at the city that glittered like it owed me something.
Memories clawed back—my mother's gentle smile, her kindness, her patience. All destroyed by his betrayal. All stolen by the woman now carrying his child.
Eunji's baby. Their "perfect family."
It made me sick.
I hated them.
I hated time itself—because my mother never had enough of it.
And one thing was certain:
I'd never forgive the thief who tried to replace her.