The night he saw Lee Hamin again, Seo Taeha thought he was hallucinating.
Amid the perfume, the laughter, and the clink of whiskey glasses in the private lounge, he saw him — standing silently in the doorway in a half-unbuttoned silk shirt, eyes blank like they'd seen too much.
The boy who once confessed under the cherry trees.
The boy he crushed with a single sentence.
Now a man. Beautiful. Scarred. Untouchable.
And sitting in another man's lap.