The Ride home.

An hour before the workday ends, Seol Yoon-ah's phone vibrates with a message.

Kim Tan: Come to my office before you leave.

No context. No explanation. Just an order.

Yoon-ah exhales, staring at the text. It's been a month since she started working under Kim Tan, and she's learned one thing: he rarely gives reasons for anything.

Still, she heads to his office as instructed. When she enters, he's leaning back in his chair, fingers tapping rhythmically against the desk, looking at his monitor. He doesn't acknowledge her at first.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

He finally glances at her, then nods toward the clock. "Are you busy after work?"

Yoon-ah blinks. "No…?"

"Good. I'll be taking you to dinner."

She frowns. "Taking me to dinner?"

"Yes, you know—food, a table, people eating." He gestures vaguely with his hand, deadpan.

Yoon-ah crosses her arms. "I know what dinner is. I just don't know why you're suddenly taking me to one."

Kim Tan looks unimpressed. "Because we never held a proper welcome dinner for you."

That makes her pause. A welcome dinner? After a month?

She narrows her eyes. "That's completely unnecessary."

Kim Tan tilts his head. "So was hiring you, but here we are."

Her mouth opens slightly. Did he just–?

"I already made the reservation so you can't refuse now." He picks up his pen and twirls it between his fingers.

Yoon-ah studies him. He meets her gaze unfazed and without flinching, his expression composed yet firm. There's no particular warmth in his tone, but there's also no room for further discussion.

She exhales after a moment, "understood sir. What time?"

He smirks. "Be ready at seven." he gestures towards the door, his attention already shifting back to papers.

Dismissed.

Just like that.

Yoon-ah bowed and left.

---

The restaurant's ambiance is subtle but unmistakably elite—soft candlelight, the hum of conversation low and controlled, waitstaff moving like shadows. Seol Yoon-ah shifts slightly in her seat, back straight, fingers tapping against the pristine tablecloth. It's not that she's uncomfortable in places like this. Quite the opposite. She's just very aware that she shouldn't be sitting across from her boss right now.

She picks up the menu, scanning the prices out of habit rather than concern. When she sets it down, Kim Tan is watching her, the corner of his lips barely lifted.

"You can relax" he says. "You're paying "

She exhales through her nose. "I wasn't worried about that."

"Then what."

"The fact that my boss is treating me to an expensive dinner under the excuse of a 'welcome dinner'– a month late. She tilts her head, voice laced with polite skepticism. "I thought we didn't have to do work welcome dinners for the boss's secretaries. Are you always this considerate, Sir?"

Kim Tan doesn't blink. "Only when I feel like it."

She huffs a quiet laugh and leans back, eyes flickering to the menu again. "I hope didn't do anything wrong. Should I still not have accepted the invitation?" She was still a bit hesitant about it.

Kim Tan said nothing, he just stared at her.

"I should have just left when you invited me sir."

"And yet, you didn't."

Her lips press together. He's right. The moment she received his message—"Come to my office before you leave."—she knew something was up. And yet, despite her better judgment, here she is.

Their orders arrive swiftly, plated with precision. Yoon-ah thanks the waiter, reaching for her fork with ease. She's supposed to be just another employee. She eats like a woman who grew up with private chefs.

Kim Tan watches as she cuts into her dish. "You eat like you've been here before."

She pauses. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He lifts his wine glass, taking a slow sip. "Normal people hesitate before touching a plate that costs half their daily salary."

She frowns slightly, then forces a shrug. "I just don't like making a fuss about food...sir"

"Mm."

That unimpressed hum—it grates on her nerves in the worst way. Like he knows she's lying, but he's too amused to call her out directly.

For a while, the conversation drifts. She answers his occasional questions about work, keeps things strictly professional, and does her best to pretend she's unaffected by his presence. But then, just as the last course is set down, Kim Tan speaks again—casual, offhanded, but deliberately placed.

"Oxford."

Yoon-ah stills.

Kim Tan taps his finger lightly against the rim of his glass. "You went to Oxford."

She schools her expression, picking up her knife and fork again. "That's right. That's on my resumé, you saw it."

"I did."

He doesn't elaborate. She focuses on cutting her steak.

And then—

"I think you were a freshman back then. That was my alma meter."

This time, she does pause.

Slowly, she raises her gaze to meet his. His face gives nothing away, but there's something in his eyes—something weighty, something like a challenge.

"... really?". she says carefully.

"That's right, I've seen you a few times." Kim Tan leans back, fingers laced together. "You won't remember."

She exhales, lips parting slightly as if to answer, but no words come. She searches her mind, but—nothing. And that, more than anything, unsettles her.

Across from her, Kim Tan watches, unreadable.

And just like that, the air shifted.

Yoon-ah stares at him, mind racing. "That can't be right. I would've remembered you." a face like his? Impossible to not notice. His face was impossible to ignore.

His smirk returns, this time with an edge. "We never spoke to each other."

Ahh that explains it.

She searches his face. "When?"

"Does it matter?" He sits back again, as if the conversation no longer interests him.

Yoon-ah sets her utensils down, fingers resting lightly against the table. Her mind races through the implications of what Kim Tan just revealed.

Oxford. He was her senior.

A final-year student while she was just a freshman.

Something deep-rooted kicks in before she can stop herself. She shifts in her seat, straightening her posture before lowering her head in a small, respectful nod.

"Sunbaenim."

The title is formal, acknowledging their past hierarchy, but the weight in her voice is different now. More measured. Controlled. She's not a university freshman anymore. She's his employee.

Across the table, Kim Tan exhales, setting his wine glass down. His lips curve slightly, but it's not quite a smirk—more like a quiet, knowing amusement.

"Took you long enough," he murmurs, his voice smooth and low.

Yoon-ah lifts her gaze, expression neutral despite the way her stomach twists.

"I didn't know."

"Now you do."

A beat of silence. She doesn't miss the way he's watching her, like he's waiting for something. Some kind of reaction.

She exhales, reaching for her water glass. "Do you expect me to act differently now? Should I be more respectful?"

Kim Tan tilts his head, the dim lighting casting sharp angles across his features. "You already address me formally in the office. That's enough."

His words are level, but there's an undercurrent in them that she can't quite place.

Something unreadable.

She places her glass down with a soft clink. "Then what was the point of telling me?"

He leans back slightly, eyes steady on hers. "So that you remember."

Yoon-ah frowns. "Remember what?"

Kim Tan doesn't answer right away. He simply studies her, as if weighing his next words.

Then, with quiet certainty, he says—

"That I knew you before you ever knew me."

Yoon-ah stills.

Her heartbeat kicks up, but she forces herself to stay composed. There's something unsettling about his words—about the way he says them with such casual finality.

She doesn't know how to respond to that.

So she doesn't. Instead, she reaches for her fork again, cutting into her food with a deliberate slowness.

Kim Tan watches her for a moment longer before he, too, resumes eating.

But the air between them has shifted.

"Eat your food before it gets cold."

Just like that, he shuts the topic down.

And Yoon-ah, still rattled, has no choice but to let it go.

--

As they step out of the restaurant, the cool night air settles around them. Seol Yoon-ah instinctively tightens her coat around herself, exhaling softly. The dinner had gone on longer than expected, and all she can think about now is sinking into her soft, ridiculously soft and expensive mattress and calling it a night.

Kim Tan's voice interrupts her thoughts.

"I'll drop you off."

Yoon-ah blinks, glancing up at him. "Oh, no, it's fine, sir. I can take a cab."

Kim Tan doesn't react immediately. He just tilts his head slightly, a single brow lifting. "And why would you do that when I'm offering you a ride?"

The way he says it—calm, authoritative, and just slightly exasperated—makes it clear he won't take no for an answer.

Yoon-ah hesitates.

Rejecting a superior's offer multiple times could be considered rude, and she's already refused once. Besides, the idea of sitting in a heated luxury car and getting home faster is far too tempting.

She exhales. "...Alright. Thank you."

Kim Tan simply nods and walks toward his car. She follows, sliding into the passenger seat while he takes the driver's side. The ride is quiet at first, the hum of the engine filling the silence.

She lets herself relax against the plush leather, closing her eyes briefly. Home. Bed. Sleep. That's all she needs right now.

Then, as Kim Tan shifts in his seat, reaching for the door handle, it hits her.

Her eyes fly open.

Her car.

She left it at work.

Panic surges in her chest, and before she can think, she blurts out, "Wait!"

Kim Tan pauses, glancing at her with an unreadable expression.

"What?"

Yoon-ah swallows, gathering herself. "I— I just remembered. I have my car at work. I should go back and get it."

Kim Tan stares at her for a beat before leaning back against his seat. "...You remembered just now?"

"Yes." She nods, forcing a casual smile. "So there's no need to take me home. I'll just take a cab straight to the office. I'll go home from there."

Kim Tan doesn't look convinced. "Then I'll take you to your car directly. To the office."

Her smile falters. "That's really not—"

"It's on the way." His voice is final, already shifting gears.

Yoon-ah's mind races. She can't let him see her car—not when she's spent a month avoiding any hint of her car at work.

She clenches her fists, biting her lip. "Alright."

The drive back to Galaxy Corporation is quiet again, but this time, Yoon-ah is far from relaxed.

When they finally arrive at the general parking lot, she unfastens her seatbelt in record time and steps out the moment the car stops.

"Thank you for the ride, sir."

Kim Tan watches her, fingers drumming lightly against the steering wheel. "Where's your car?"

Yoon-ah gestures vaguely toward the farthest end of the lot. "Over there."

Kim Tan's gaze follows her hand. The lot is large, and with the dim lighting, it's impossible to tell which car she's pointing at exactly.

He turns back to her. "I'll take you to it."

Her heart skips a beat. "No, it's fine."

His brow furrows slightly. "You're carrying a handbag and heels."

"I forgot something in the office," she lies quickly. "I'll grab it first before leaving."

A long pause.

Kim Tan stares at her, his expression blank. Then, slowly, amusement flickers in his eyes.

"...Alright."

There's something in his voice—something too knowing.

But he doesn't push further.

Without another word, he shifts gears and pulls out of the parking lot. Yoon-ah stands there, watching as his taillights disappear into the night.

Only when he's fully gone does she let out a deep sigh of relief.

Without hesitating, she turns away from the company lot and begins walking.

Seol Yoon-ah walked briskly, her heels clicking against the pavement as she made her way toward Old Mr. Kang's lot. The night air was crisp, but it did little to cool down the leftover anxiety still simmering inside her.

She groaned under her breath, rubbing her temples.

"That was way too close."

She had almost given herself away—almost revealed what she had been keeping under wraps since she started working at Galaxy Corporation. The Bentley was too much. Too conspicuous. Too flashy.

And Kim Tan…

She swore she saw a glint of amusement in his eyes when she lied about forgetting something in the office.

She sighed. "I'll get myself another less conspicuous car tomorrow since it's the weekend."

Arriving at the small, dimly lit parking lot, she spotted her car tucked safely in its usual corner.

Mr. Kang, the old lot owner, was sitting near the entrance on his usual rickety chair, reading a newspaper. At the sound of her approaching footsteps, he looked up and gave a knowing smile.

"Late night again, Miss Seol?"

She forced a smile, pressing her hands together apologetically. "Work ran late, Mr. Kang."

He chuckled. "You rich kids work too hard."

Yoon-ah stiffened slightly but said nothing. Instead, she quickly got into her Bentley, started the engine, and pulled out of the lot.

She needed to get home.

--

Baek Jisoo stood at the corner of the street, her phone pressed to her ear, a bright smile on her face.

"Honey, where are you?" she asked, her voice soft and filled with affection.

Her boyfriend chuckled on the other end. "Almost there. Got held up for a bit."

Jisoo pouted slightly, though she wasn't really upset. "You're always making me wait."

"Sorry, sorry. I'll make it up to you, okay?"

She giggled, brushing her hair behind her ear. "You always say that."

"But I always do, don't I?"

She hummed, pleased. "You do~ That's why I love you."

Her heart felt light just talking to him. He was sweet, dependable, and treated her like a queen. Jisoo had never been happier in a relationship.

"I swear, you're the best," she continued. "So thoughtful, so caring—ahh, my perfect boyfriend—"

She stopped mid-sentence.

Her breath hitched.

Her gaze locked onto something—or rather, someone—passing by.

A sleek, black Bentley glided past her in slow motion, the streetlights reflecting off its polished surface.

And behind the wheel…

Seol Yoon-ah.

Jisoo's jaw tightened as she watched the car disappear down the street.

Seol Yoon-ah had always been polished, always carried herself with a kind of quiet sophistication. She wore designer brands, her perfume was subtle but expensive, and her manners were effortlessly refined. In short, everyone had assumed she came from a well-off family.

But a custom-made Bentley?

That wasn't just well-off. That was seriously rich.

"Jisoo?"

Her boyfriend's voice barely registered.

"Hey! Why'd you stop talking?" he asked, confused. "What did you see? Jisoo? Hello?"

But Jisoo wasn't listening anymore.

Her mind was spinning.