Takumi parked outside the mansion and escorted Ji-Ah inside.
She handed him Pip's keys with a small, tired smile.
"Here… thanks," she murmured.
He nodded silently.
"Take care, Ms. Park," he said before turning away.
Ji-Ah stepped in, the cool, familiar air of Ha-Joon's mansion brushing against her.
She felt a slight wave of dizziness and steadied herself, sliding into her slippers.
Earth and Yuki were wrestling playfully on the polished floor, but Ji-Ah immediately sensed another presence.
Then she caught the scent—warm, inviting, unmistakable: food.
Curious, she made her way to the kitchen and found Do-Hyun and Nisa there.
Nisa was stirring a pot, hair tied back, smiling softly as she moved with quiet grace.
Do-Hyun leaned close, joking and nudging her shoulder, making her laugh as she swatted him playfully.
It was a small, tender moment, full of easy familiarity.
Ji-Ah couldn't help but grin.
"Hello," she said, bowing slightly in greeting.
Do-Hyun raised an eyebrow. "Ha-Joon forced you to go to the office, didn't he?"
Ji-Ah nodded, smirking. "Of course. That tyrant thinks everyone should worship him."
Nisa laughed quietly, shaking her head. "He was cold toward me the first time I became Do-Hyun's girlfriend too."
Ji-Ah's grin widened, and she jabbed playfully in Ha-Joon's imaginary direction.
"Unbelievable. I mean, the nerve of that man. Couldn't even bring soup without acting like the world would collapse."
Do-Hyun chuckled, teasing. "See? She's too cute. How could he resist?"
Even Nisa giggled at Ji-Ah's sly insults.
Ji-Ah leaned against the counter, still pale from her illness but refusing to fully surrender. Nisa turned to her.
"Go freshen up. I made lunch."
"I will," Ji-Ah said softly, still clutching her stomach. "But I'm full for now. I'll just rest."
Nisa nodded, giving her a warm smile.
Ji-Ah muttered under her breath, glancing toward where Ha-Joon might appear, "Good. Let him stew in his own arrogance."
Do-Hyun chuckled at that, shaking his head.
"She's relentless," he said fondly.
Ji-Ah allowed herself a small laugh, finally feeling a bit of comfort amidst the mansion's rigid walls.
--
Ji-Ah curled up on the bed, blanket pulled up to her shoulders. Her head still ached, but the warmth helped.
She reached for her phone and tapped a familiar name.
"Mi-Jae."
He picked up almost immediately.
"Why do you sound like you're dying?" he laughed.
"I might be," Ji-Ah groaned dramatically. "If I don't survive, tell the world it was because of a tyrant."
Mi-Jae burst out laughing. "Already blaming someone. Who this time?"
"The one I work for," she muttered. "Cold. Heartless. Thinks medicine tastes good and that sick people are liars."
"You finally met a villain worthy of you," Mi-Jae teased.
"He made me come to work while I had a fever," she continued, voice hoarse but sharp.
"Then forced food on me and threatened not to let me go home unless I ate. Who does that?"
Mi-Jae laughed harder. "Sounds like he cares."
"Don't insult me," she said weakly. "He's a tyrant with money."
She was mid-complaint when the door quietly opened.
Ji-Ah didn't notice.
Ha-Joon stepped inside, having caught just enough to hear tyrant and forced me.
Without a word, he walked over, reached down, and smoothly took the phone from her hand.
Ji-Ah blinked. "—Hey!"
"Who is Min-Jae?" Ha-Joon asked into the phone, tone calm but unmistakably sharp.
There was a pause.
Then Mi-Jae laughed. "Oh. So you're the tyrant."
Ji-Ah coughed, half-laughing, half-dying. "Give it back—"
"He's my best friend," she added quickly, glaring up at Ha-Joon. "And unlike you, he knows how to ask if someone is okay."
Ha-Joon handed the phone back without comment. "Lower your voice. You're sick."
She scoffed weakly. "There he goes. Orders, orders."
Mi-Jae chuckled from the phone. "I like him already."
"No," Ji-Ah said firmly. "You don't."
Ha-Joon turned to leave.
"Goodnight," she added sweetly, waving two fingers at him. "Try not to traumatize anyone else today."
He paused at the door.
"Rest," he said simply.
The door closed.
Mi-Jae laughed again. "You're going to get fired."
Ji-Ah smiled faintly, snuggling deeper into the blanket. "Worth it."
-
Ji-Ah stood near the doorway of Ha-Joon's office, bowing slightly.
Her brown hair fell around her shoulders, a little messy, and her pale face and weary posture still betrayed lingering sickness.
Ha-Joon looked up from his desk, expression unreadable.
"What was that?"
"I… I'm sorry," she said softly, voice hoarse. "I was sick. I didn't know what I was saying."
He stood, the chair scraping lightly, and fixed her with a steady gaze. "Who is Min-Jae?"
Ji-Ah hesitated. "My friend."
Ha-Joon exhaled slowly and sank back into his seat. "I need to see Min-Jae at the company tomorrow."
Ji-Ah rolled her eyes inwardly.
Of course. Even sick, he finds a way to interrogate my friends.
"And about your motorcycle," he added, voice calm but sharp.
"You violated the last rule. No one should know you're living in my house. You must pay the penalty—100,000 won."
"I don't have that kind of money! What are you talking about?" she protested.
"You must.'' He said firmly ''And starting today, Pip won't be coming with you. I know a way to make sure no one sees us coming to work together."
Ji-Ah groaned under her breath.
"Fine… my poor baby…" She let out a small, breathy laugh, part frustration, part disbelief, then turned and stepped out.
Tomorrow… I'll survive. Somehow. And Pip… he'll forgive me.
Ji-Ah stormed out of Ha-Joon's office, letting out a long, tired sigh.
Her brown hair fell messily over her shoulders as she trudged to her room and flopped onto the bed.
She grabbed her phone and typed quickly:
"Ha-Joon knows… he knows I told you. And now the tyrant wants to see you."
She added, frustrated:
"He's getting out of hand—forced me to leave with him this morning, and now this. I'm going back to my apartment."
Her phone buzzed almost immediately. Min-Jae replied calmly:
"Okay, I'll come."
Ji-Ah groaned, running a hand through her hair.
Then another message from Min-Jae popped up:
"By the way… you still haven't sent me the love letter for my crush."
Ji-Ah rolled her eyes and muttered, Ugh… fine, I will. Don't worry.
She tossed the phone aside with a sigh, staring at the ceiling. Surviving Ha-Joon is exhausting.