Seoul hadn't changed.
It was still loud. Still fast. Still overwhelming.
Cars flooded the streets like restless waves. Neon screens flashed advertisements overhead. People moved with purpose, heels clicking, phones pressed to ears, lives too busy to notice anyone else.
Seo Ye-rin stood at the bus stop, one small hand in hers.
Her palm was slightly sweaty. Not from the heat. From nerves.
"We're really here…" she whispered.
Min-joon swung their joined hands happily. "Mama, is this Seoul? It's so big!"
"Yeah," she said softly. "Too big."
He didn't notice the way her fingers tightened around his. But her heart knew.
Every corner of this city carried ghosts. Five years ago, she had run away like a criminal. Now… she was walking back willingly.
After dropping Min-joon at the academy gates, she crouched and fixed his collar.
"Be good, okay?"
"I will!"
"No fighting."
"…Unless they start first."
"Min-joon."
"Okay okay!" he laughed, hugging her tightly.
Her chest squeezed painfully. He was only five. Why did he already speak like an adult?
She stroked his hair. "I'm the parent. Let me worry, alright?"
He nodded and ran inside, backpack bouncing.
Ye-rin stood longer than necessary, watching until he disappeared into the building.
Time to work.
The address on her phone led her downtown. Each step made her stomach churn. She barely noticed the people rushing past—until she stopped dead.
Her breath caught.
A skyscraper towered above her, all glass and steel, reflecting the sky like a blade.
The logo at the top gleamed under the sun: KANG GROUP
Her stomach dropped.
No way…
She checked the email again: Administrative Secretary – Interview Location: Kang Group Headquarters.
Kang…
It couldn't be… Right?
It's just a common surname. Calm down.
Still, unease crawled up her spine. The building looked too luxurious. Too powerful. Like a place people like her didn't belong.
She swallowed.
You need this job. For Min-joon. For his school fees. For rent. For survival.
Turning back wasn't an option.
The lobby was enormous. Marble floors gleamed under crystal chandeliers. The air smelled faintly of fresh flowers and expensive perfume.
Employees walked briskly in tailored suits, voices low, professional. Everything screamed money. Ye-rin felt small in her simple blouse and skirt.
At the reception desk, a woman smiled politely.
"Interview?"
"Yes… Seo Ye-rin."
"Top floor. Private elevator."
Top floor?
Her nerves worsened. Isn't this just a secretary job…?
The elevator ride felt endless. Her reflection stared back at her, pale and tense. Heart pounding.
Ding.
The doors opened.
A quiet, luxurious hallway stretched before her. Other candidates were already seated, adjusting hair, checking makeup, rehearsing answers.
She sat down, clutching her file tightly.
Breathe. Just an interview. Nothing else. Nothing will happen.
Nothing—
The door opened.
"He's here."
A whisper spread instantly. The women straightened. Some gasped.
Ye-rin looked up casually—
—and froze.
Footsteps. Slow. Steady. Powerful. Black polished shoes. Long legs. Tailored suit. Then his face.
Sharp jaw. Cold eyes. Dark hair brushed back neatly. Unfairly handsome. Unforgettable.
Her heart slammed violently against her ribs.
No… it can't be…
Kang Jae-hyun. The man from that night. The man she prayed never to see again. The father of her child.
Her fingers went numb. Her file almost slipped.
He looked different now. Colder. Untouchable. Like a king walking through his empire. Employees bowed slightly as he passed.
"Good morning, CEO Kang."
CEO. Her head spun. Not a random rich guy. Not a hotel guest. A CEO.
Oh God…
Her breathing became shallow. If he recognizes me… if he finds out about Min-joon… what do I do? Run?
Her legs wouldn't move. She felt rooted to the chair. Frozen. Prey sensing a predator.
His footsteps stopped—right in front of them. His gaze swept across the candidates lazily… then paused. On her.
Her heart stopped.
For one long second. Two. Three.
Don't look at me. Please don't look at me.
But he didn't speak. Didn't react. Just frowned slightly, like something was… off. Strange. Familiar.
Then he walked past. Just like that.
She nearly collapsed in relief. He doesn't remember me…
Why does that hurt?
"Next. Seo Ye-rin."
Her body stiffened. No. No way.
She walked inside like someone heading to execution.
The office was huge. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. Behind the desk—him. Alone. Waiting.
Her throat dried instantly. He didn't look up at first, flipping through her resume.
"Sit." His voice was calm. Still that deep, velvety voice.
Her fingers trembled as she sat. Please don't recognize me. Please. Please.
Silence stretched. Paper flipping. Then—he stopped.
"Single mother?"
Her heart jumped. "Yes, sir."
"You moved back to Seoul recently."
"Yes."
"Work experience… retail, café, admin support…" Each word felt like judgment.
Finally—he looked up.
Their eyes met. Time froze. His gaze sharpened, studying, searching, like trying to remember something just out of reach.
Have we… met?
"…Have we met before?" he asked quietly.
Her heart nearly exploded. "No, sir," she said too fast. Too nervous. Too guilty.
He noticed. His eyes narrowed slightly. Interesting.
Most women tried to impress him, flirt, beg attention. But this one—looked terrified.
Why?
He leaned back in his chair. "…Why are you applying here?"
She swallowed. "For my son," she said softly. No lies. Just truth.
Something about the way she said it—steady, desperate, sincere—made his chest feel heavy.
Without thinking, he said, "You're hired."
She blinked. "…What?"
"Report tomorrow. Secretary position. Directly under me."
Her brain short-circuited. Under him?! Every day?! Close proximity?!
No no no—
But she needed the money. Needed stability. Needed this chance.
"…Thank you, sir." She bowed quickly, escaping before her legs gave out. The door shut behind her.
Jae-hyun stared at it for a long moment. That strange feeling again. Like losing something… then finding it. His fingers tapped lightly on the desk.
"…Seo Ye-rin," he murmured. Why does that name sound familiar?
Outside the building, Ye-rin leaned against the wall, breathing hard.
Of all companies in Seoul—of all jobs—of all fates—it had to be him.
Fate really loves playing jokes…
Tomorrow. She would face him again. Every day.
And she still didn't know… the little boy waiting at school… had his eyes.