The annual Luma Group Partners' Gala was the one night every year when even spreadsheets wore tuxedos.
The ballroom glittered with chandeliers and the soft hum of business deals disguised as small talk.
Yoon Ha-rin arrived with Na-eun, both wrapped in elegance and mild dread.
"Remind me again," Ha-rin muttered, "why I let you talk me into this?"
"Because," Na-eun whispered, "your boss is also your not-so-secret crush, and this gown is poetic revenge for every time he called you 'Miss Yoon.' "
Ha-rin laughed. "You're impossible."
"Correct," Na-eun said. "Now chin up, drama queen. He's walking this way."
---
Director Kang Jae-hyun appeared through the crowd, the picture of composure in a charcoal suit, smile politely distant.
For a moment, no one would've guessed that forty-eight hours ago he'd been sharing a blanket under the Aureum-ri moon.
He stopped a few paces away. "Miss Yoon," he said formally. "You clean up well."
Ha-rin tilted her head. "Careful, Director. Compliments sound suspicious when they come from management."
His lips twitched. "Then consider it a personal observation, not a corporate one."
Na-eun grinned and vanished conveniently toward the buffet, whispering, good luck surviving this tension.
---
A few tables away, Han Soo-ah watched the exchange with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
When Jae-hyun excused himself to greet a client, she glided toward Ha-rin, voice sweet enough to rot sugar.
"You look lovely tonight, Ha-rin-ssi. That color almost hides how nervous you are."
Ha-rin smiled pleasantly. "Thank you. I was going for 'threateningly composed.' "
Soo-ah blinked, momentarily wrong-footed.
Then, with a tilt of her head, "Be careful. Director Kang attracts a lot of attention in rooms like this."
Ha-rin's reply was smooth as silk. "Good thing I'm not afraid of competition."
---
When Jae-hyun returned, his expression was polite—but his eyes flicked once toward Soo-ah and then to Ha-rin, reading the air instantly.
"Miss Han," he said evenly, "the finance team was looking for you."
"Oh! Right," she said, smile tightening. "Excuse me."
As soon as she left, Ha-rin raised an eyebrow. "Subtle rescue, Director. Do you practice that tone in the mirror?"
He leaned slightly closer. "Only when I'm trying not to make a scene."
"You almost did," she teased. "Were you jealous?"
His gaze softened, voice dropping. "Terrified is the better word. You in this dress? The world's a dangerous place."
Her laugh was quiet and genuine. "You really are bad at pretending to be cold."
"I told you, you melt my IQ," he said. "And possibly my career."
---
Later, during the toast, Ha-rin felt a tap on her arm.
Jae-hyun's voice was low near her ear. "Come with me for a minute."
He led her out to the terrace, the city stretching below in a sea of lights.
For once, the great Director Kang looked almost boyish, loosening his tie.
"I tried to stay detached in there," he said, "but every time someone looked at you, I forgot my own name."
Ha-rin smiled, teasing. "So the ice king finally melted?"
"Completely," he admitted. "You ruined my reputation."
"Good. You ruined my sleep for weeks."
He laughed softly, stepping closer. "Then we're even."
The night wind swept her hair across his face; he caught a strand, fingers gentle.
"I can't hide what I feel when you're near me," he said. "I don't even want to anymore."
Their foreheads touched, the city humming beneath them.
"You still think I belong to headlines?" he asked.
Ha-rin shook her head. "No. You belong right here."
He smiled, eyes glimmering. "Then let them write what they want. I'm already taken."
---
From inside, Na-eun's voice echoed faintly through the door:
"Ha-rin! Stop being cinematic and come back for dessert!"
They both burst out laughing.
Jae-hyun sighed. "Back to reality?"
"Reality's not so bad," she said. "Especially when you're bad at hiding your feelings."
He kissed her forehead lightly, whispering, "Then I'll stop hiding."
---
Inside, the gala continued—polished, loud, oblivious.
But out on the terrace, under the skyline glow, two people stood side by side, smiling like conspirators who'd just stolen the night itself.