The elevator doors slid open on the thirty-third floor, and I swear the temperature dropped five degrees.
Kang Group headquarters. Monday morning. 8:57 a.m.
I stepped out in my best "I belong here" armor: black pencil skirt, white silk blouse, hair in a low bun that took forty minutes and three YouTube tutorials, heels that cost half my old salary.
I looked good.
I felt like throwing up.
Everyone knew why I was here.
The whole company knew.
Han Hyemi, formerly marketing department nobody, now personal assistant to Kang Dae-Hyun — the CEO who went through assistants like tissues.
The floor went quiet.
Heads turned.
Phones lowered mid-scroll.
Someone actually whispered, "That's the new sacrifice."
Great start.
I walked straight to the glass-walled office at the end, heels clicking loud on purpose.
His current assistant — poor woman looked like she survived on coffee and fear — jumped up.
"Miss Han! You're… early."
"Yeah. Figured I'd get the firing over with quick."
She blinked.
Then gave a tiny, sympathetic smile.
"He's inside. Good luck."
I pushed the door open without knocking.
Power move number one.
Kang Dae-Hyun stood at the window, back to me, phone to ear.
Tall.
Way taller than photos.
Broad shoulders in a charcoal suit that probably cost more than my car.
Hair perfect.
Posture perfect.
Everything perfect.
He ended the call without saying goodbye.
Didn't turn.
"You're late."
His voice low, smooth, cold.
I glanced at my watch.
8:58.
"Clock says I'm two minutes early."
He turned then.
Slowly.
And okay.
Rumors didn't do him justice.
Sharp jaw.
Dark eyes.
Face that could sell magazines or stop hearts.
Then he opened his mouth.
"Put the coffee down and lose the attitude."
I lifted the tray — his usual black Americano, no sugar.
"Coffee first, attitude later. Promise."
I walked forward.
Placed it on the desk.
He stared.
Like I was a puzzle he didn't want to solve.
"I didn't ask for an assistant."
"I know."
"The board forced you on me."
"I know."
"I don't need babysitting."
"Good. Because I'm not a babysitter."
He stepped closer.
Too close.
Cologne expensive.
Dangerous.
"Then what are you?"
"Your new nightmare."
I smiled.
Sweet.
He didn't.
"Schedule."
I pulled tablet.
"9:15 Japanese investors. 10:30 finance review. 12 lunch with—"
"I don't eat lunch."
"Shocker."
He paused.
"Did you just—"
"Reading the schedule. Out loud. You're welcome."
He pinched bridge of nose.
"Get out."
"My pleasure."
I turned.
Paused at door.
"One more thing."
He looked up.
Warmer eyes? No.
Cold.
"Your tie's crooked."
It wasn't.
Perfect.
But he glanced down anyway.
I grinned.
Left.
Closed door.
Leaned against wall.
Heart racing.
What the hell did I just do?
His assistant stared.
"You okay?"
"For now."
She handed files.
Thick.
"Welcome to hell."
I took them.
Smiled.
"Hell I can handle."
Lunch Break – Real Me Time
I escaped to the rooftop.
Kicked off heels.
Hair down.
Glasses on.
Oversized hoodie from bag.
Real Hyemi.
Phone out.
Group chat.
Me: Day one. Called him nightmare to face. Told him tie crooked. He checked.
Nari 📢: QUEEN SHIT
Seoyeon 👠: Pics or it didn't happen
Ara 🧚♀️: Be careful. He fires fast.
Jiwon 🧸: How you feeling?
Me: Alive. Annoyed. Weirdly buzzing.
Nari 📢: Buzzing = attraction
Me: Shut up
Seoyeon 👠: Denial stage 1
I groaned.
Threw phone down.
Stared city.
He was cold.
Arrogant.
Annoying.
Hot.
No.
Not hot.
Just tall.
Rich.
Whatever.
I hated him already.
Good.
Hate was safe.
Afternoon – First Clash
Back at desk.
He called me in.
Ten times.
"Coffee wrong."
Too cold.
"Files wrong order."
Alphabetical not date.
"Typing loud."
Silent mode.
Every time.
Criticism.
Cold.
I smiled.
Fixed.
But inside?
Fire.
Last time.
5 p.m.
"Miss Han."
I entered.
He stood.
Tie gone.
Shirt sleeves rolled.
Forearms.
Why.
"Tomorrow. 7 a.m. flight. Busan. Client."
"Overnight?"
"Yes."
I blinked.
Alone.
Hotel.
No.
"Separate rooms?"
He looked at me.
Long.
"Of course."
Cold.
But eyes…
Something.
I nodded.
"Fine."
Left.
Heart racing again.
Hate.
Definitely hate.
Night – Girlie Debrief
My apartment.
Wine.
Pajamas.
Video call.
I told everything.
Cold voice.
Criticism.
Busan trip.
They screamed.
"OVERNIGHT???"
"SEPARATE ROOMS BUT STILL"
"Jealousy incoming"
"Third wheel when?"
I groaned.
"No third wheel."
"Yet."
I threw pillow at screen.
But smiled.
Because tomorrow?
Busan.
With him.
Hate.
Definitely hate.
But maybe…
Little spark.
No.
Hate.