The room felt heavier when Ara returned. Conversations continued, glasses clinked, but every movement seemed magnified in her mind. She noticed whispers, glances, and the way people edged slightly away as if sensing the storm lingering around her and Jae-min.
Yura was there, as usual. She leaned against a column, sipping champagne with calculated elegance. Her eyes met Ara's, sharp and measured, then flicked to Jae-min, silently questioning, almost taunting.
Ara ignored her. She couldn't afford distraction—not tonight. She had to remind herself: this was temporary. Professional. The contract. And yet, the words she had read refused to let go.
Jae-min appeared beside her again, offering his arm. "You don't have to stay close to me," he said quietly, almost hesitant.
Ara stared at him. "I won't pretend anymore," she said softly. "I'm not your shadow."
He said nothing immediately, merely scanned the room, as if calculating risks no one else could see. His gaze lingered briefly on Yura, whose smile remained steady and unreadable, then returned to Ara.
"You're angry," he said finally, low and controlled.
"I should be," Ara replied. "But anger doesn't fix lies."
He leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper only she could hear. "Not all truths are ready for you yet. But you'll learn them. In time."
"I don't want 'in time,'" Ara said, voice firm. "I want clarity."
Jae-min's expression tightened, and for the first time, she saw a flicker of something raw beneath the composed mask he always wore—vulnerability. He didn't answer.
A sudden shift in the crowd drew their attention. Yura was moving toward them again, speaking to someone just out of earshot, her laughter soft but deliberate.
Ara's chest tightened. She knew it wasn't by accident.
Jae-min caught her gaze. "Ignore her," he said quietly.
"I can't," Ara admitted. "She knows about… everything."
He ran a hand through his hair, tension evident. "Not everything," he corrected, but the words came out sharper than intended. "And she won't get the rest."
Ara swallowed, unease knotting in her stomach. "Then why does it feel like she already won?"
His jaw tightened. "Because she's patient. And cunning. But don't doubt me."
Before she could respond, a waiter approached with another tray of champagne, and Ara noticed something—a small envelope, identical to the one from earlier, tucked casually near Yura's table. Her pulse spiked.
Yura's eyes met hers for just a fraction of a second, and the smile that met Ara's gaze wasn't friendly. It was deliberate. Calculated. Dangerous.
Ara's hand brushed against her clutch instinctively, and her thoughts raced.
Jae-min noticed her tension immediately.
"Don't—"
But Ara was already staring at the envelope, heart hammering.
Yura laughed lightly from across the room. "Curiosity can be… costly," she said, her voice carrying across the distance just enough for Ara to hear.
Ara froze, knowing in that instant:
Tonight, the truth would no longer wait.
And somewhere in the crowd, someone was watching—waiting for the right moment to strike.