Shin Jinghyeon's head snapped toward the trembling girl on the carpet, fury blazing through her eyes like a struck match.
"You told Baeran to kill herself?!"
The words cracked through the room like a whip.
Jang Yanyan shrank instantly, curling into herself as if trying to disappear into the carpet fibers. All color drained from her lips, leaving them pale and bloodless.
"M-madam… I—I didn't…"
But the denial rang thin, hollow.
Because she had mentioned it—carelessly, manipulatively. And at the time, the original Baeran, so desperate and blind, had followed her lead without a hint of suspicion.
Now exposed, every ounce of confidence she once held crumbled into dust.
Shin Jinghyeon's face turned red with both anger and urgency as she lunged forward and slapped Jang Yanyan across the cheek.
"What is your intention with this?!" she shouted.
"And what did you put into Baeran's food? Were you trying to kill our Baeran?!"
Tears poured from Jang Yanyan's eyes, and she clenched her teeth to suppress the swelling rage the drugs stirred within her.
Baeran offered a faint, mocking smile, glanced once at the cowering girl, then lifted her leg and strode towards the door.
She didn't bother to wait for her mother's furious screams—she had more important business to attend to.
"Sweetheart, you just woke up—where are you going?"
Shin Jinghyeon's voice echoed anxiously behind her.
But Baeran's figure had already slipped past the staircase landing.
"I'll be back soon," she replied, her tone light yet decisive.
She had somewhere she needed to be.
She was going to save Do Hana.
Before slashing her wrist, the original Baeran had ordered people to kidnap Hana.
Jang Yanyan had gone even further—adding her own cruelty to the plan, arranging for two hired thugs to violate the girl.
A line had been crossed.
And Baeran wasn't about to let the story repeat itself.
In the original storyline, Han Seojun had arrived just in time—kicking down the door to rescue Do Hana.
The girl had been burning with fever, half-conscious, and in that desperate moment Seojun had forced the truth out of the trembling kidnappers:
It was Baeran who ordered it.
That single accusation severed the engagement completely.
Afterward, the original Baeran spiraled further—beating up a chaebol heiress in public, landing herself on every major headline.
The Jang family's stock plummeted, and Jang Yeonggwang's disappointment curdled into something sharp and cold.
His favor shifted to the "graceful and obedient" Jang Yanyan.
And Yanyan…
Yanyan rose to the very top on the ruins Baeran left behind.
A glint of danger flashed across Baeran's eyes, sharp as a drawn blade.
She wouldn't mind peeling the petals off that pretty little white lotus herself.
Layer by layer.
Until nothing soft or innocent remained.
As Baeran passed through the first-floor living room, her steps slowed.
A silver dining knife lay upon the table, its polished surface catching the light with a cold, quiet gleam.
She reached out and picked it up as casually as one might lift a pen.
Her fingers spun it once—effortless, fluid—leaving faint afterimages of the blade flickering between her knuckles.
A heartbeat later, the knife vanished from sight, tucked away with the ease of long-honed instinct.
Baeran's lips curved.
She lifted her foot and stepped out the door.
The hunt had begun.
Fifteen minutes later, behind the back entrance of the Junrye Hotel, a shadow slipped through the blind spot of a security camera.
Baeran vaulted upward, landing soundlessly on the second-floor window ledge.
Room 0219.
Inside, Do Hana—drugged, disoriented—pressed herself against the wall.
Her face was drained of color, pupils unfocused, one trembling hand clutching at her collar as she retreated step by step.
"Who… who are you… don't come any closer…"
Her voice shook, fragile as cracked glass.
Two hulking figures loomed in front of her, their silhouettes blocking the light.
Predators circling a helpless fawn.
Baeran's eyes narrowed.
Not on her watch.
Fifteen minutes later, behind the Gunye Hotel, Baeran moved like a shadow.
A flicker across a camera's blind spot—then she leapt, landing silently on the second-floor window ledge.
Room 0219.
Inside, Do Hana—drugged, disoriented—stumbled backward, clutching at her collar.
Her face had drained of all color.
"W-who are you… don't come any closer…"
Her voice trembled, thin as paper.