The heavy mahogany doors of the Park estate finally closed behind us, sealing away the suffocating tension of the dining hall. The cold night air hit my face like a bucket of ice water, completely clearing the residual heaviness of the crimson wine and the high-society atmosphere.
Jin-hyun walked me out onto the sprawling marble porch, stepping down two stairs before turning back to face me. He slung his hands into his jacket pockets, a light, breathy laugh escaping into the dark air.
"Well," Jin-hyun smirked, his silver fringe swaying in the winter breeze. "That was quite a spectacle, wasn't it? You held your ground against Uncle Jin-ho better than most foundation board members do."
I let out a long, foggy breath.
"I was just telling the truth."
Jin-hyun's expression softened slightly, the playful, chaotic glint in his eyes shifting into something surprisingly grounded. "Look, San-ah... you shouldn't worry about H-Wnot's future. I actually really like being in this group—especially with you in it as our frontman. So don't worry about me ever voting for your departure, no matter what my uncle or Jin-woo wants."
I blinked, a quiet warmth settling behind my ribs.
"Thanks, Jin-hyun-ah."
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping into a guarded, ultra-serious whisper.
"But... you really should be cautious from now on, San. Because—"
"Jin-hyun-ah."
The deep, booming voice of Chairman Park Jin-ho cut through the night air from the open entrance doors, instantly severing Jin-hyun's sentence mid-air.
Jin-hyun went quiet, smoothly straightening his posture as he turned toward the doorway.
"Ah, Uncle! I was just saying goodbye to my friend."
Park Jin-ho stood framed by the warm interior light, his cold, calculating eyes lingering on my broad frame for a long, heavy second. He didn't say a word to his nephew, merely offering a stiff, subtle nod of dismissal.
Jin-hyun turned on his heel to head back inside. But as he passed behind his uncle's back, out of Park Jin-ho's line of sight, he raised his right hand behind his hip and quickly flashed me a discrete crossed-fingers gesture, shooting me a subtle wink to wish me luck.
I held back a smirk.
Classic Jin-hyun.
Once his nephew was inside, Park Jin-ho stepped out onto the top stair, looking down at me from his elevated position.
"Prepare well for the Seollal Showcase, Mr. Motuzenko," the Chairman said softly, his tone completely devoid of warmth. "And stay healthy."
I executed a formal, precise bow.
"Thank you, Mr. Park. Have a good evening."
I turned and walked down the long, paved driveway. Even as I rounded the front pine trees near the iron gates, I could feel it through my periphery vision—Park Jin-ho was still standing dead still on that grand porch, watching my departure like a hawk tracking prey.
'Brrr,' a shiver ran down my spine that had nothing to do with the -5°C temperature. 'What an absolute creep.'
The heavy iron gates clicked shut behind me, releasing me back onto the quiet, moonlit streets of the Golden Triangle neighborhood.
BZZZ.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out to find a text notification glowing on the screen:
Kang Min-ah: [That is EXACTLY why I didn't want you to come inside, you slothy gorilla! 🤦♀️]
I couldn't help but let out a genuine, airy chuckle that puffed into a white cloud of steam.
'She really is something else,' I thought, slipping the phone back into my dark jacket. 'She was so furious at the gate because she actually wanted to shield me from her crazy family politics.'
I looked up at the pale winter moon hanging over the luxurious estates. In my mental ledger, I realized I needed to officially recalibrate Kang Min-ah's status profile. She wasn't just a casual classmate or a chaotic Database Queen anymore; she had earned a solid, undeniable promotion to Best Friend status.
'Of course,' I corrected myself internally, a soft smile touching my face, 'she's still not quite on the legendary tier of Dany back home in Ukraine! Nobody replaces Dany. But she's definitely earned the right to be called a best one here in Seoul.'
I let out a long, satisfying sigh. Walking down the quiet, tree-lined avenues in the fresh night air gave my overworked brain some much-needed time to think.
Fifteen minutes later, the grand, familiar iron gates of the Lee residence came into view. I tapped the security code, pushed open the front door, and finally stepped into the warm, quiet sanctuary of home.