Chapter Four

Hye-Jin's days melded into a rhythm of meticulous focus and precision, the weight of the "Kim Hyun-Ho" case bearing down on her shoulders. She poured over every detail, crafting arguments with a sharpness honed by hours of quiet deliberation.

Between drafting the case, she maintained contact with Ji-Soo, their exchanges brief yet purposeful. Each update gave Ji-Soo another edge in the impending court battle, a silent promise that Sung Jin-Hun's empire would crack under the weight of their combined efforts.

Hye-Jin's dedication was relentless, working late into the nights, illuminated only by the grim glare of her laptop screen. She balanced her sharp, analytical mind with a simmering drive for justice — a drive forged from the chaos surrounding her life and fueled by her growing resentment toward Jin-Hun's blatant unprofessionalism.

Sung Jin-Hun had become an absent presence — a shadow lingering in her thoughts as he took off for the week.

Monday morning greeted her with nothing but a crumpled note flopped carelessly across her desk: "I'm off work for the week. If my wife calls, I'm on a business trip to Hawaii. Finish the case draft by next Monday. The court set the date for Tuesday morning."

Hye-Jin was only left to grimace at his gall — the man's arrogance was truly unparalleled.

Still, the occasional calls from Jin-Hun came like clockwork, his smooth voice dripping with provocation as he inquired about her progress, taunting her in subtle ways. He knew her well enough to know she despised his laissez-faire attitude, and that knowledge made his demeanor all the more insufferable.

Yet she played her part, maintaining her polite professionalism, each call igniting a flicker of annoyance she buried deep.

On Wednesday afternoon, something not-so-unusual happened — the male staff, taking advantage of their boss's absence, collectively decided not to show up for work. Therefore, the remaining staff finished their tasks early, wrapping up for the day with quiet satisfaction.

By 2 p.m., Hye-Jin was striding out of the office building, the crisp spring air wrapping around her like a gentle embrace. The moment was fleeting but refreshing — a small victory in the marathon of chaos.

From the moment she stepped outside her office building, Jae-Jung was there.

Cloaked in the anonymity of the bustling city, he had melted seamlessly into the flow of pedestrians, his tall frame hidden by the ebb and flow of passersby. The crisp spring air was sharp against his face, but he barely noticed — it was her he was watching, her every movement drawing in his unwavering attention.

Hye-Jin's phone buzzed just as she stepped onto the sidewalk, the name "Park Gyeong-Ja" flashing across the screen. A genuine smile, the first in what felt like weeks, spread across her face as she answered. »Gyeong-Ja! It's been forever,« she greeted warmly, her voice betraying the rare joy of reconnecting with her closest friend.

He watched her take the call, and the smile that bloomed across her face was like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. Jae-Jung's amber eyes flashed faintly beneath the brim of his hood as he watched her talk, her easy laugh slicing through the hum of the street.

She's beautiful, he thought — not just her outward appearance, but the way she carried herself, the confidence in her stride, the determination that burned quietly beneath her polished exterior.

Even now, after all these years, she moved through the world like she was untouchable, a star in a sky full of dim lights.

But Jae-Jung knew better. He could see what others couldn't — the subtle wariness in her gaze, the way her shoulders tensed ever so slightly as though preparing for a blow. She was strong, yes, but the world had its claws deeply thrust into her, and he could feel the weight pressing down on her fragile shoulders.

His lips curved into a faint smirk as he followed her at a careful distance. Consistently far enough to remain unseen, but never too far for him to lose sight of her. He couldn't lose sight of her, not ever.

»Too long, Hye-Jin. We need to catch up — like, immediately,« Gyeong-Ja replied, her tone playful and urgent. »There's a restaurant near your office I've been dying to try. Let's meet there. And bring your appetite — today's on me.« 

Hye-Jin agreed without hesitation. The prospect of a carefree afternoon felt like a lifeline amid the storm brewing around her.

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The restaurant was cozy, tucked away from the city's bustling heart.

When she entered the restaurant, Jae-Jung positioned himself outside, leaning casually against a lamppost as though he were merely a man idling away the evening.

But Jae-Jung's sharp eyes never left the window where she sat, her laughter ringing faintly through the glass as she spoke with the woman across from her.

Inside, the aroma of sizzling dishes and freshly brewed tea enveloped them, a soothing balm against the chaos of their lives. Gyeong-Ja didn't hold back, diving straight into her breakup story as soon as they had settled into a corner booth. »Can you believe he cheated on me? With his colleague, of all people! Honestly, good riddance. I deserve way better than some loser who couldn't even hold his life together without leeching off of mine.« 

Hye-Jin listened intently, her icy-blue eyes softening with empathy. Gyeong-Ja's fiery resilience was something she always admired. »You're so much better off without him, Gyeong-Ja. Someone who doesn't value you doesn't deserve to be in your life, like- at all.« 

Though her words were gentle, her voice held a resolute edge — a reflection of her own belief in strength and self-worth. For a moment, Hye-Jin felt grounded. The warmth of friendship was a fleeting reprieve from the relentless complexity of her world.

Gyeong-Ja's laughter lit up the space, a stark contrast to the hum of quiet voices and clinking utensils. »You're right, as always. But enough about my drama — what's going on in that big brain of yours, huh? You've been rather quiet lately.« 

The woman — Park Gyeong-Ja, if he remembered correctly — spoke, her hands gesturing wildly as if she were telling some grand tale. Jae-Jung's focus shifted back to Hye-Jin, her delicate fingers stirring the bowl of soup in front of her, her eyes softening with rare warmth as she listened.

Hye-Jin hesitated, knowing the storm inside her would be too much to unburden on her friend. Instead, she smiled, savoring the simplicity of the moment. For now, chaos could wait.

So she stirred her soup thoughtfully, the warm steam rising to meet her, the light teasing in her tone a welcome distraction from the chaos swirling in her mind. »Well, you know me — I'm always chasing deadlines and dodging chaos. Work has been... consuming, as always. The case I'm drafting might finally topple Sung Jin-Hun's little empire,« she said, her voice steady but tinged with a quiet determination.

He tilted his head slightly, watching as a shadow of vulnerability flickered across Hye-Jin's usually steady and confident face. It wasn't a vulnerability born of weakness, but something else entirely — something fragile and precious that she rarely let the world see.

Jae-Jung's fists tightened at his sides, his nails biting into his palms, drawing blood that slowly dripped down his hands.

If only she knew how much he wanted to destroy everything that could harm her, to shield her from the weight of the world that bore down on her. But she wouldn't understand. Not yet.

So he just stood there idly, watching her meticulously, fiercely.

Gyeong-Ja leaned closer, her curiosity piqued. »Wait, the Sung Jin-Hun? The arrogant boss you can't stand? That's- what a coincidence - my cousin Sung Jin-Hun? What's going on with that?«

Hye-Jin chuckled dryly, her icy-blue eyes momentarily glinting with humor. »Oh, you wouldn't believe the mess he's gotten himself into this time. Let's just say someone like him can only get away with so much before everything catches up and his empire, built on misery, goes up in flames. He's off fooling around as usual, but once this case goes to court, his ego might finally crack.«

Though her words were casual, there was an edge to them — a sharpness born from the battles she waged behind her polished exterior. She stirred her soup again as if turning the conversation over in her mind. Then, without warning, she shifted focus.

»But enough about work. Tell me, what's next for you now that you're free? Are you going to take a long vacation? Throw yourself into something new?« Hye-Jin tilted her head, her expression softening, eager to redirect the spotlight back to her friend.

Gyeong-Ja beamed, grateful for the change in tone. »I've been thinking about starting something new — a project, maybe. Or maybe just focusing on me for a while. It's nice to finally feel like I can breathe, you know? And also, I really don't wanna be there when Sungis world goes up in flames. Can you imagine my aunt?« Gyeong-Ja giggled, her pretty face contorting in distaste, »Her poor, poor, golden son. I'd have to suck up to his ego for weeks to make her shut up. I'd rather avoid that. Like, completely.«

Even though Gyeong-Ja's voice seemed to drip with amusement, Hye-Jin knew her better. The least Gyeong-Ja needed now was having to put up with her cousin and his unbearable mother. Hye-Jin nodded, her smile deepening. »You deserve it, Gyeong-Ja. After everything you've been through, this is your time. Do whatever makes you feel alive again.«

As Gyeong-Ja spoke excitedly about her plans to leave South Korea and travel around until the dust had settled, Hye-Jin let herself relax into the moment, her guarded demeanor slipping just enough to remind herself that even amidst the chaos, there was still room for warmth and connection.

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The hours slipped by, the sun sinking low on the horizon until the streetlights buzzed to life, casting long shadows over the pavement. When Hye-Jin and Gyeong-Ja finally emerged from the restaurant, Jae-Jung stepped back further into the shadows, his presence an invisible thread in the shadows of the evening.

The restaurant's cozy warmth gave way to the cool embrace of the evening as Hye-Jin and Gyeong-Ja stepped outside. The streetlights cast long shadows across the pavement, flickering slightly as the wind rustled through the trees. Their conversation slowed, the laughter from earlier fading into a comfortable silence.

Gyeong-Ja adjusted her coat, her eyes scanning the dimly lit street. »You sure you'll be okay getting home?« she asked, a hint of worry in her voice.

Hye-Jin smiled reassuringly. »I'll be fine. You know I always keep my pepper spray close — and my wits even closer.« 

Gyeong-Ja chuckled lightly, but her gaze lingered on Hye-Jin for a moment longer. »Alright, but call me when you get home, okay?« 

They hugged briefly before parting ways, Gyeong-Ja heading toward the bus stop while Hye-Jin turned down a quieter street, her heels clicking softly against the pavement. The city buzzed faintly in the distance, but here, the streets were almost eerily empty.

Jae-Jung lingered for a moment, his gaze following Gyeong-Ja's retreating figure before his feet carried him instinctively after Hye-Jin.