The air between them didn't just crackle—it ignited. The moment Hana's cheek brushed against his, a raw, primal current shot straight through him. Her skin was like heated silk against his masculine jaw, a contrast so stark it made his breath catch.
Her nervous smile was a fragile thing. "The... the photo..." she managed, her voice a delicate whisper that only fueled the fire.
But restraint was no longer an option. Joo Won's control shattered. His gaze, dark and heavy with want, dropped to her pink lips and then her eyes, and he saw her own eyes do the same.
With the background melting into nothingness, he angled his head and closed the distance. The world narrowed to the shared heat of their panting breaths, mingling in the charged space between their mouths.
His hand came up, fingers tangling firmly in her hair, holding her in place as his thumb pressed under her jaw, tilting her face up to meet his descending mouth. There was no hesitation now—only claiming.
Hana's lashes fluttered shut, her pulse hammering as though her heart sought escape. She had imagined this moment—his touch, his breath, the gravity of his nearness—so many times that it already felt like memory. And yet, this was different. Real. Terrifyingly real.
The kiss wasn't gentle. It was deep, consuming, a collision of pent-up want. A ragged groan vibrated in his chest as he tasted her, and he felt her melt against him, her own soft moan swallowed by his hunger. Her hands slid up his chest, not pushing away, but clutching at the hard planes of his muscles, her nails digging faintly into his skin through his shirt.
Driven by a desperate, rising urgency, he broke the kiss only long enough to lay her down on the couch, sending cushions tumbling to the floor with a soft thud. Never breaking eye contact, his gaze burning into hers, he lowered her onto the now-bare couch, his body following hers down, covering her, caging her in.
One strong leg slid between hers, and he deepened the kiss again, more insistent this time, his lips parted hers as if it needs to immediately return to the treasure it found just a bit ago. The drumming of his heart wasn't just in his chest anymore—it was everywhere, a wild, pounding rhythm they could both feel. This was no longer just a kiss. It was a beginning. Even she felt his heartbeat which made the kiss a hundred times electric knowing that both their hearts longed for this.
The world had narrowed to the heat of her skin and the taste of her lips, a universe contained within the space of that couch. A low, possessive feeling awoke in Joo Won's chest as he deepened the kiss, one hand tangled in her hair, the other splayed against the small of her back, pressing her closer.
Then, a sharp, electronic chime sliced through the haze.
The doorbell.
Once.
Joo Won ignored it, his mouth refusing to relinquish hers, as if he could command the outside world to vanish.
It rang again. Twice.
A faint, frustrated sound escaped him, but he barely pulled back, his forehead resting against hers, his breath coming in ragged, heated pants against her mouth.
The third, insistent ring shattered the moment completely.
Hana's hands, which had been clutching his shoulders, now pushed firmly against his chest. "Joo Won—" she breathed, her own voice unsteady, her lips swollen. "The door... someone's here."
Reluctantly, with a final, searing look that promised this was not over, he pulled himself away. The loss of contact felt like a cold shock. His expression a storm of frustration and lingering desire as he strode toward the door, leaving Hana flushed and breathless on the couch, the air still crackling with their interrupted passion.
Already frustrated at the sudden visitor at that time, he opened the door to find a deliveryman holding a sleek, white box. The man handed it over and left. Joo Won took it, his mind still clouded with the taste of Hana's lips, the feel of her skin.
Then he looked down.
There, scrawled across the top in elegant, dark script, were the words: Happy Birthday Startrooper0103.
The world, which had moments before been reduced to a single, passionate point, snapped back into sharp, startling focus. There was only one person who knew that name.
From behind him, Hana emerged from the living room, smoothing her clothes, her cheeks still flushed. "Who was it?" she asked, her voice a little unsteady.
She drifted toward the kitchen counter where he'd set the box, her curiosity attempting to mask her lingering tension between them. Peering over, she read the name aloud softly: "Startrooper0103..." A faint, knowing smile touched her lips as the memory connected. "That's Ji Woo, right?... YERIN's CEO..."
She looked up at Joo Won, her eyes warm with a mix of amusement and genuine tenderness. "What a gentleman. He even sent you a birthday cake."
And then, the more terrifying thought followed, crashing down on Joo Won:
What have I done?
Hana was here, in his apartment, and she had witnessed the cake, the name, the connection. If the Chairman found out—through her father—it wouldn't take long to trace the name back to Ji Woo. He had just painted a target not only on his own back, but on the one person he was trying to protect.
A cold sweat beaded on his forehead, tracing a path down his temple. His breath shallowed, his earlier desire now completely replaced by pure, undiluted dread.
Hana noticed immediately. Her playful curiosity faded into concern. She reached out, her fingers gently brushing his damp forehead, then touching her own as if checking for a fever.
"Bae Hoon?" she asked, her voice soft with worry. "Your forehead is cold and you're sweating... are you okay? Was it something you ate?"
But he was beyond answering. His breaths came in ragged, shallow gasps, his chest heaving against an invisible weight. This wasn't sickness; it was a raw, consuming panic attack.
Hana moved with swift, sure purpose. She poured a glass of water with one hand while the other found the bottle of Cheongshimwon pills on the table. She didn't ask, didn't hesitate. Gently, she guided a pill past his lips. He swallowed it with a sip of water, his eyes squeezed shut in a private battle.
After about one hour, he seemed to stabilize..
He watched Hana's concerned face, her innocent confusion... a painful contrast to the web of deception she was unknowingly tangled in.
He had to stop her. He couldn't let a single detail of this night—the cake, the name Startrooper0103, the kiss—reach her father's ears. Secretary Baek was the Chairman's most loyal hound, and every piece of Hana's life was a report waiting to be filed.
But how?
The question screamed in his mind. If he told her the truth—that her own father was using her as a tool, a pretty, unsuspecting spy to keep their stolen heir in line—it would shatter her. The warmth in her eyes, her genuine kindness, it would all curdle into betrayal and heartbreak. He couldn't do that to her.
Yet, the alternative was unthinkable. Her ignorance was a weapon aimed directly at Ji Woo's heart. If she mentioned anything about the cake in passing, it would be a death sentence.
A new, more terrifying fear gripped him: What if she doesn't believe me? The thought was a cold hand closing around his throat. Who would she believe? A man living a lie, a pawn with a stolen name, or her own flesh and blood? Her father, who had raised her, loved her? The odds were not in his favor. He would look like a paranoid liar, trying to turn her against her family.
He was trapped. Silence was a risk. Truth was a gamble. Either path could lead to ruin—for him, for her, for Ji Woo. The weight of the decision pressed down on him, a physical force stealing the air from his lungs. He had to choose his words like a bomb technician choosing a wire to cut, knowing a single mistake could destroy everything.