With each floor passing before her eyes, reality hit her harder, more cruelly:
She had let this man — this stranger, this monster, this living danger — touch a part of her no one had ever awakened.
And the worst?
She wanted more.
Her body wanted more.
The simple truth made her stomach twist.
Outside, the cold Seoul air crashed against her.
She leaned against the building wall, her skin damp, her lips swollen, her thighs still trembling.
A cold sweat slid down her temples.
She bit her lip until it bled to regain some control.
I'm in a relationship.
I love him.
I can't do this.
I'm not that kind of woman.
I'm not…
Her mind repeated those phrases in a loop, as if she were clinging to a thin thread to keep from collapsing.
But her body said something else.
Her body still vibrated from Sion's kiss.
From the wall against her back.
From his hand rising slowly between her thighs.
From his warm breath on her mouth.
A violent heat climbed up her stomach — an uncontrollable, shameful, urgent wave.
She swallowed a sob.
How did he do that… in three minutes… how…?
That evening, when she got home, the apartment was lit with a soft, warm, reassuring yellow glow.
The smell of hot rice and miso drifted from the kitchen.
Her boyfriend greeted her with his gentle smile, the one that had never failed, never hurt, never betrayed.
— Did you have a good day? he asked.
His soft eyes.
His clean hands.
His simple heart.
Nari felt a brutal frustration crush her chest.
A lack.
A hunger.
A rage.
A void.
She kissed him without warning, a deep kiss, nervous, too quick, too eager, too desperate.
She pushed him against the wall, her mouth crashing onto his, her hands tugging at his shirt, her breath trembling.
Her boyfriend was surprised.
Then happy.
Then carried by her momentum.
They kissed.
His hands slid timidly along her hips.
He lifted her onto the couch.
She pulled him with her, straddled him, her thighs tightening around his waist, her breasts pressed against his chest.
She wanted to get lost.
She wanted to forget.
She wanted to erase Sion from her skin.
She wanted to convince herself she wasn't betraying, that she could choose a simple, tender, stable life.
But as soon as she closed her eyes…
It wasn't him.
It wasn't his voice.
It wasn't his hands.
It was Sion.
Always Sion.
Only Sion.
His deep breath at her ear.
His golden eyes burning in the dark.
His powerful fingers gripping her hips.
His heavy, massive body crushing hers.
His tongue.
His mouth.
His kiss that had broken her.
She moved faster, harder, until she lost herself, until she twisted, until orgasm tore through her like a wave of fire.
A moan escaped her.
A moan too rough.
Too loaded.
Too true.
Her boyfriend held her tight.
Kissed her.
Smiled at her.
He thought she had come for him.
He thought she was coming back to him.
She felt her heart crack.
Because she knew.
She had felt nothing.
Nothing but Sion's shadow.
She stood up suddenly.
Choking.
Fleeing her own body.
— I… I'm going to take a shower, she whispered, broken.
She didn't wait for his answer.
She slammed the door.
In the bathroom, she slid down against the tiled wall, hands in her hair, breath trembling.
And she cried.
Silently.
Again.
Again.
Because something had opened inside her.
Something dangerous.
Something she would never be able to close again.
Something with Jeon Sion's face, voice, and hands.
She pressed her forehead against the tiles.
The water ran down her skin, mixing with tears, with tremors.
She whispered, almost voiceless:
— Why you? Why… why is it you?
Because he had awakened her.
Because he had pierced her with one look.
Because he had set fire to a place inside her she thought was dead.
She wiped her tears.
Her fingers were still trembling.
— I have to forget him.
Lie.
Her reflection in the mirror knew it.
Meanwhile, across the city…
ALONE IN HIS OFFICE, SION
He stared at the window.
Seoul blurred under the rain, cut in half by car headlights.
The city was immense — but he only saw her.
He remembered her gaze.
Her trembling voice.
The way she had hit him.
Her red lips.
The taste of her fear and desire mixed.
He ran a hand over his mouth.
A slow smile stretched across his face.
— I broke you just by kissing you…
This is going to be fun.
He poured himself a glass of whisky, sank into his leather chair, lit a cigarette.
The smoke rose slowly, drawing Nari's face in the air.
— Tomorrow… you'll beg without even realizing it.
1:37 a.m.
He grabbed his phone.
His assistant answered in a panic.
— Mr. Jeon?
— Find me everything.
— Excuse me?
— Everything.
Her address.
Her boyfriend.
Her job.
Her schedule.
Her habits.
Her fears.
Her weaknesses.
Everything that will let me enter her life before she can close the door.
A panicked silence on the line.
— Uh… right away, Mr. Jeon.
Then he hung up.
He saw her again.
Her trembling legs.
Her warm skin.
Her exposed throat.
Her way of lying with her mouth but not with her body.
Sion smiled.
A slow, dark smile, almost tender.
Almost.
The rain slapped against the window.
And in the silence, only one thought burned:
I didn't even ask for her name.