Mutual scrutiny

Another pause. He could almost hear her breathing sharpen.

"Shin's in the hospital? What happened?! Why—why didn't anyone tell me—?"

"Because you're not important to him, just a stranger." Sergei snapped, feigning indifference.

He let that sentence hang in the air like smoke.

Then, like a flick of a match, he added: "They say she's been influencing him. Changing his habits. Even eating sweets. Romantic isn't it?"

Calin's breathing was now ragged. "No. No, no, no. He hates sweets. He—he told me that. I mean I know that!"

"Well, apparently she's got him change his lifestyle now," Sergei said with a chuckle. "Sounds like they're getting serious, doesn't it?"

"Who is she?" Calin hissed, her voice now laced with venom. "Do you know?"

"No idea. Yet." He made sure that word hit like a lure.

"Find out," she demanded. "You must find out for me."

Sergei raised an eyebrow, intrigued at how quickly her obsession reignited into full-blown madness. He almost pitied the mystery woman. Almost.

"Relax. You'll get your chance," he said smoothly. "If she's real, she won't be able to hide forever. And when the time comes, I'm sure you'll know what to do."

"No one can take away what is mine Sergei, you know that."

There it was. The cold, unhinged certainty that made his sister terrifying.

And useful.

"Well, good luck with that," he said lazily, then hung up before she could say more. He didn't need to fan the flames further. She'd do the rest herself.

Sergei started the car and eased out of the parking lot, his smirk deepening.

Let Calin play her role. Let her spiral, attack, confront. He had no doubt it would cause a scene Shin Keir couldn't ignore.

And while they tore each other apart—he would be watching from the sidelines.

After all, he thought, revenge for what happened back in high school is long overdue. And since I can't touch Shin directly… I'll let someone far more vicious destroy him for me.

---

The next day—Monday afternoon—Yeri sat stiffly in the back of a taxi, eyes flicking nervously between the tinted window and the phone clutched in her gloved hand. She wore a full-length beige trench coat over an oversized hoodie, sunglasses perched on her nose, a baseball cap pulled low, and a medical mask covering most of her face.

She didn't look like a student. She didn't even look like a normal human being. She looked like a disgraced celebrity fleeing a scandal—possibly one involving tax fraud and an illicit affair with a billionaire's dog.

And all because of a stupid phone.

Last night, when she had just returned from shopping with Nina, arms sore from carrying dozens of bags and her mood slightly improved thanks to her new designer bags and clothes. But all that evaporated the second her gaze locked onto the sleek, pitch-black device she swore he had taken with him.

Yeri almost died—literally combusted—from a potent cocktail of anger and frustration the moment she spotted it.

Shin Keir's phone. Sitting on her desk like a smug little demon.

Why was it still here? Didn't Tristan take it with him? Had it returned on its own? Is it haunted?

After a few deep breaths and five rapid curses muttered under her breath, she finally pulled out her own phone.

Good thing she'd saved Tristan Felan's number on her phone after that hectic morning.

"Bring it to the hospital," he had said breezily, like she was just dropping off a forgotten lunchbox. "Can't risk a security breach. And frankly, you're the only person I trust not to peek through his files or sell his contact list to the media."

She had stared at her phone in disbelief. Really? She couldn't even get a courier?

"If Shin is awake, he will definitely agree with me," Tristan had added, cheerfully ignoring her protests. "Besides, I'm swamped with work."

Yeri had hung up with a groan, briefly considered chucking the phone out the window, then reluctantly agreed.

She understood the stakes. Shin's phone wasn't just a phone—it was a mobile bank. A single missed message could mean millions lost, company chaos, and a very unhappy Shin Keir.

But still… She had a sinking feeling that Tristan was just messing with her.

"If this keeps up," she muttered under her breath as the taxi turned a corner, "I'm buying myself a villa and penthouse with his money out of spite. Let's see if he still wants to date me then."

The taxi pulled up to the hospital, and Yeri peeled off her sunglasses and mask as she entered, not wanting to get tackled by security for looking like a disguised biohazard.

The phone was gripped tightly in her hand. Her mission was simple: return the phone, scold the man, and vanish before anyone important noticed her existence.

What could possibly go wrong?

However, the universe had a flair for the dramatic.

As she rounded a corner in one of the quieter corridors, she nearly collided with another figure walking briskly from the opposite direction.

"Sorry—!" Yeri began, instinctively stepping back.

But her words died in her throat the moment their eyes met.

This woman...

Even without her designer heels and runway hair, the woman oozed the same cool, imperious energy Yeri remembered from the last time they met—at Doctor Zahn Neri's office. That day, this woman had blocked the elevator like some mafia secretary, casually guarding the path as though she owned the building.

Yeri blinked, stunned.

Calin, too, halted briefly, her sharp gaze narrowing behind designer sunglasses. It took her only a moment to recognize the girl her dumb manager once called "pretty" with that irritating sparkle in her eyes.

A girl she had deliberately ignored.

Neither woman spoke. The silence between them was dense with something electric and unsaid.

Just two strangers passing by—yet neither of them moved immediately.

Then, like two trained actresses ending a scene, they brushed past each other in wordless grace. No greetings, no confrontations.

Just mutual scrutiny and stiff shoulders.

Calin continued walking, her heels clicking smartly on the polished floor. She glanced over her shoulder once—but the girl didn't.

That girl… what kind of illness does she have to cover up like that?

Thinking that she might have some contagious disease, Calin's face sour as she curse 'unlucky' in her heart.

Neither knew they were walking toward the same destination. The same man.

But soon, their paths would no longer pass silently.

They would collide. And when they did, nothing would stay quiet for long.

---

Early that morning...

The soft rustle of linen and the faint beeping of hospital equipment greeted him first.

Shin Keir blinked once, twice, letting his eyes adjust to the sunlight spilling through the window. For a moment, he lay still, disoriented but strangely…light.

No pounding headache. No burning fever. No bizzarre dreams clawing at the edges of his mind.

Just silence.

He exhaled deeply and frowned.

He sat up slowly, expecting the usual dizziness—but there was none. No searing pain behind his eyes. No phantom voices from that twisted red garden. His body felt sluggish, but not in distress.

Then he looked around.

And immediately scowled.

Sterile white walls. Monitoring wires. IV drip. Hospital.

"Damn it," Shin muttered under his breath, yanking the IV from his arm with practiced ease. A thin trail of blood followed, but he ignored it.

From a plush armchair near the window, Tristan Felan looked up from his laptop, expression the perfect blend of smug and sleep-deprived.

"Well, good morning," he drawled. "Ripped out the IV the second you woke up—just as Zahn predicted. Are you a feral big cat?"

Across the room, Secretary Yun stood at attention with a cup of coffee in one hand and a fresh folder on the other. He looked like a butler preparing to deliver your newspaper.

He had arrived earlier that morning, dressed immaculately as always, despite the absurd hour.

Shin rubbed his temples, annoyed. "What happened?"

Tristan raised a brow. "Don't remember? You passed out cold from a fever and nearly gave a certain girl a cardiac episode. And now as you can see you're in Zahn's hospital."

Shin stiffened. Slowly, memories returned.

He remembered warmth. Soft cotton sheets. A scent that wasn't his. Yeri's worried voice. Her hands on his forehead. The dream—the red rose garden—had vanished the moment he lie down beside her that night.

A faint twitch crossed Shin's lips— she must be mad at him.

He hadn't meant to fall asleep next to her. He'd just wanted to lie down, to feel close for a moment. That moment had turned into a full collapse.

"You were burning up and she called me through your phone. Anxious and extremely worried." Tristan pointed out. "Frankly, I thought it was amusing. You running a fever was the strangest thing that's happened this year."

Secretary Yun cleared his throat, subtly reminding the room of his presence. "Young Master Felan informed me earlier, but don't worry, Boss—I've cleared your schedule for today and tomorrow so you can relax."

Shin muttered something unrepeatable and leaned back against the pillow, eyes shut, jaw tight, then opened his eyes again. He sat up straighter. "Where's my phone?"

Tristan's grin widened. "Ah. Well. That's the fun part."

Shin narrowed his eyes.

"It's still at her dorm," Tristan said brightly. "Time was tight and no one remembered to take your phone. But she called late last night and agreed to come for a visit this afternoon."

Shin looked at Tristan murderously. "She what?"

"Aw, come on. You're acting like this is a catastrophe," Tristan said, clearly entertained. "A woman goes out of her way to return your phone, and you react like she filed a lawsuit. Besides, she cared so much she even changed your shirt herself. That's devotion."

It was then that Shin noticed he wasn't in a hospital gown.

He looked down at himself: a light blue T-shirt emblazoned with the logo Electric Masters.

"See? I thought you'd appreciate my effort. And since you hate being touched by strangers, I had your girlfriend change you before I carried you out." Tristan proudly said, crossing one leg over the other.

Secretary Yun nodded. "Miss Zhi is scheduled to arrive after her last class. I've arranged for her to use the staff elevator and avoid attention."

Shin groaned and rubbed his eyes. "Goddamn it."

He caused her trouble she must be very unhappy.

However, warmth flickered in his chest and unconsciously, he was kind of looking forward to seeing her.