Se-Ri's POV
Silence followed the slap.
Thick. Brutal.
You could hear the echo of it bounce off the chandelier.
Leo didn't flinch.
He stood still, jaw tight, the red mark blooming slowly across his cheek. But his eyes — they didn't waver. They stayed on Dadaji.
Steady. Calm. Even as his skin stung with humiliation.
"I'm responsible," Leo said quietly. "This wasn't Se-Ri's fault. I kissed her in public. I didn't consider the media fallout. That was my mistake."
Dadaji scoffed. "You think one confession erases everything? This isn't about a kiss. It's about recklessness. Headlines. Shame. The business impact."
"She's not ashamed," Leo replied, eyes still unwavering. "And neither am I."
I stepped forward. My voice trembled, but I made it clear. "Dadaji, he didn't do anything wrong. We didn't do anything wrong. We're just… figuring it out."
Mr. Wu cleared his throat. "With all due respect," he said coolly, "perhaps this conversation would be better if it weren't treated like a courtroom hearing. They're adults."
"You've never had your daughter's name dragged through tabloids," Dadaji snapped.
"No," Mr. Wu said, his tone level. "But I've had a son suffer for being kept behind masks his whole life."
Leo's gaze flicked to his father — surprised.
Mr. Wu rarely defended anyone in public. He never spoke like this.
Then Dadi stood up. Her voice, quiet but firm, cut through everything.
"Enough. No more shouting. No more blaming. Se-Ri is not a child. She is not our reputation. She built her business from scratch. Let her choose her life."
Across the room, Amisha placed a steadying hand on Rhea's shoulder. Rhea's hand instinctively covered her baby bump.
Mr. Wu turned to us. "You both need space. Go upstairs. Figure out what you want to do next."
We left the room without another word.
Upstairs – A Quiet Decision
I shut the door behind us and turned to Leo. He leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, trying to hold everything in.
I stepped forward and hugged him. Tight.
"I'm so sorry," I whispered. "You had to suffer because of me."
He brushed my hair back gently. "It's not your fault. I'd do it all again."
I touched his cheek. "Does it hurt?"
"A little," he admitted. Then he took my hand. Held it between both of his.
"I don't know how you feel about me," I said quietly. "But I don't want to be reckless with this. I don't want to ruin what we're building."
"I want to know you more," I added. "I want to understand who Leo really is. Not the public version. Not the headlines."
"And I want to show you who I really am too," I said.
He looked at me. Deep and still.
Then he asked, "Would you like to stay with me? Together?"
"You mean… live-in?"
"Yes," he said. "I don't want to keep splitting time and space. I want to wake up with you. Eat noodles with you. Argue about TV shows with you."
I smiled. But I hesitated.
"What about my family?"
"I'll talk to them," he said. "We'll assure them. I won't ruin anything. We'll do this the right way — but on our terms."
We came down hand in hand.
No dramatic announcement. No grand entrance. Just the quiet, deliberate return of two people who had finally stopped apologizing for what they wanted.
Everyone was still seated in the drawing room. Dadaji sat like a stone idol at the center, eyes sharp beneath his glasses. Rhea straightened when she saw us. Dadi folded her hands in her lap, waiting.
Leo let go of my hand only to speak.
"We've made a decision," he said, calm but unflinching. "We're going to live together."
A beat of silence.
Then—
Rhea: "Thank God. Finally, something that makes sense today."
Amisha: "About time. She's been in love with you since you made her drink black coffee."
I stared at her. "I have not—"
Amisha shrugged. "Please. You smiled at him like a teenage poet on Red Bull."
Leo, for once, was the one turning red.
Dadaji wasn't smiling. His voice came quiet but hard-edged. "So, you've decided to move in together — without marriage?"
Dadi spoke up gently. "They said they want to live together. Not run away."
"I didn't say they were running," Dadaji replied. "But the world will think they are. Family names don't come with insulation. They come with magnification."
"We're not hiding anything," I said, meeting his eyes. "This isn't some secret. We came here because we want your respect, not your permission."
Rhea looked at Dadaji. "They didn't ask to be put in the spotlight. But they are. So, they're doing the next best thing — being honest."
Leo added, "We'll handle our responsibilities. Our work. Our names. But we'll also live our life. Our way. No hiding. No lying."
Dadaji said nothing for a long time. Then finally:
"Then do it right. No secrecy. No drama. If you're making a decision, don't tiptoe through it."
His voice was gruff. But there was no fury in it now.
Dadi nodded, clearly relieved. "Then it's settled."
Leo looked at me. I looked at him.
For the first time in days, my chest didn't feel tight.
Amisha broke the tension. "Okay but whose house are you moving into? Hers smells like lavender and stress. His probably smells like expensive furniture and repressed emotions."
Leo deadpanned: "We'll compromise. Scented candles and floor heating."
I laughed. Not because it was hilarious. But because it was light.
And we were finally allowed to breathe.