After the siblings returned inside, they headed toward their grandfather's study.
The tension between them was immediate.
Mingyu Lee had been grilling Dasom nonstop about her behavior that evening, and he wasn't holding back.
"Seriously, what is wrong with you tonight?" Gyu snapped angrily.
"There's nothing wrong with hanging out with Bo," Dasom shot back. "And there was nothing wrong with what Yixing and I were doing either."
Gyu stared at her in disbelief.
"You're an adult now," he said sharply, gesturing toward her. "You can't just hang around men and let them hold you like that. Are you dense?"
He tapped the side of his head in frustration.
"I trust them with billion-dollar business deals, Bunny. But you are a completely different story."
Dasom's patience finally snapped.
"Oppa, you literally just said it yourself!" she yelled. "I am an adult now!"
Her voice echoed through the study.
"I can make my own decisions. I can even choose to date whoever I want." She pointed angrily at herself. "Because it's my choice. Not yours — mine!"
"Fine then!" Gyu barked back, temper flaring. "Go ahead! Go be a sl—"
The word died in his throat instantly.
His expression changed immediately.
"No, wait—I didn't mean—"
"Finish the sentence, Gyu!" Dasom screamed.
Her eyes filled with hurt.
"So that's how you think of me?"
"Bunny—"
"No. Screw you!" she shouted. "Stop trying to control me! You're not Appa — you're my brother, so stay in your lane!"
She laughed bitterly in disbelief before storming toward the door.
"Oh, and don't bother calling me," she snapped. "Because I won't pick up!"
"Dasom, wait—!"
But she had already slammed the door before he could finish.
Silence filled the room.
Gyu stood there frozen before finally sighing heavily and dropping into a chair.
He replayed the argument over and over in his mind.
She's right…
His chest tightened painfully.
I'm not Appa.
Guilt slowly began settling over him.
For nearly fifteen minutes, Gyu sat alone in silence.
Work stress had already been eating away at him for weeks, and after fighting with Xiaoqing earlier that night, he felt completely exhausted emotionally.
Tonight had been a disaster.
Eventually, he stood and headed toward Dasom's room.
The door was already slightly open.
"Baby sis?" he called softly. "Can I come in?"
No response.
He knocked twice more before stepping inside.
The moment he entered, his stomach dropped.
Her dress had been discarded carelessly onto the floor.
Then—
From downstairs—
The unmistakable roar of a motorcycle engine echoed through the mansion.
Gyu sprinted through the foyer toward the garage.
By the time he reached it, the garage doors were already opening.
At the far end stood Dasom, fully geared in black riding leathers with her backpack strapped tightly to her shoulders.
The motorcycle rumbled beneath her.
Then she noticed him.
Without hesitation, Dasom lifted her hand—
And flipped him off.
Then she sped off into the night.
"BUNNY!" Gyu shouted desperately.
He chased after her instinctively, but the moment he reached the darkness outside the estate gates, he slowed.
His breathing became uneven.
The darkness swallowed everything around him.
His body froze.
"Bunny…" he whispered weakly before collapsing to his knees.
After several moments, he finally forced himself back inside and made a call.
"Hey. It's me," Gyu said quietly once the phone connected.
"You better have a good reason for calling me at two in the morning," the sleepy voice on the other end grumbled. "You literally saw me five hours ago."
Gyu exhaled heavily.
"You're the only person I think Bunny might go to tonight."
The other person immediately woke up.
"…Why? What happened?"
"We fought."
The silence that followed was heavy.
Gyu rubbed tiredly at his eyes.
"Her friends are still out partying. Her overseas friends aren't here." His voice lowered. "If she comes to you… can you keep her safe for me?"
The man on the other end was quiet for a few seconds before answering firmly.
"You have my word."
Truthfully, Dasom wasn't even angry anymore.
Not really.
She just needed space to breathe.
Gyu had always been overprotective, but hearing him almost call her a slut over something so small had genuinely hurt her.
The cold night air whipped around her as she rode through the city streets.
After almost an hour of aimless driving, her mind finally began calming down.
Then the rain started.
Dasom slowed beneath the dim glow of streetlights, suddenly realizing she had nowhere to go.
She refused to go home tonight.
And she definitely didn't want to use her credit card because Mingyu would immediately track her location through it.
A petty part of her wanted him to worry.
So instead, she pulled into a quiet park and parked beside a sheltered picnic area.
Rain drummed softly overhead while she sat down and opened her laptop.
Cold air seeped through her riding gear, but she ignored it and began typing rapidly.
"Whose number should I even get…" she muttered aloud.
Several minutes later, she leaned back triumphantly.
Then dialed the number.
The phone rang twice.
"Hello?"
A deep, raspy voice answered groggily.
He had clearly been asleep.
The moment Dasom realized how late it was, panic hit her.
She hung up immediately.
What am I doing right now?
Before she could spiral further, the phone rang back instantly.
Dasom stared at the screen for several seconds before finally answering.
"…Hello?"
"Petal?" the voice asked immediately. "Is that you?"
Dasom closed her eyes tightly.
"I'm sorry," she whispered shakily. "I know it's late…"
"Don't worry about that." His tone softened instantly. "Are you okay?"
The moment he asked, something inside her broke.
"No…" she sobbed into the phone. "I'm not okay."
Her breathing hitched violently.
"I don't know what to do. This isn't me…"
She began crying uncontrollably.
"Hey," he said gently but firmly. "Stay on the line with me, okay? I'm coming to get you."
By the time he left, his guards and chauffeur had already been instructed to move immediately.
Still dressed in his pajamas beneath a heavy puffer jacket, he climbed into the backseat while keeping Dasom on the phone the entire time.
He even grabbed an extra jacket before leaving in case she was cold.
"Talk to me," he said softly while his wireless earbuds connected to the call. "How was your flight today?"
Dasom sniffled loudly.
"…Bad."
"What about breakfast? Did you eat anything?"
"I don't really eat breakfast anymore," she admitted quietly between sobs. "It reminds me of Mama…"
His chest tightened painfully hearing that.
"But I had tteokbokki for brunch…" she continued shakily. "And pork spare ribs…"
Then her voice broke completely again.
"You need to breathe, Petal," he said calmly. "Crying this hard in cold weather isn't good for you."
He adjusted forward in his seat anxiously.
"Do you at least have water with you?"
Dasom shakily searched through her riding bag.
"…Yeah."
"Good." His voice remained steady and grounding. "Take a sip for me."
She obeyed quietly.
"And stay on the line with me until I get there."
--
Rain poured steadily over the quiet park as Dasom sat curled beneath the shelter, her laptop abandoned beside her.
By now her tears had slowed into shaky breaths, but exhaustion clung heavily to her body. Her fingers had gone numb from the cold despite her riding gloves.
Then—
Headlights swept across the park entrance.
A sleek black vehicle pulled up nearby.
Before the chauffeur could even fully stop the car, the passenger door opened and a tall figure hurried out into the rain.
Dasom looked up weakly.
The man immediately crossed the distance toward her, carrying a thick black jacket in one hand and a portable hand warmer in the other.
Without hesitation, he draped the warm jacket carefully over her shoulders first.
"You're freezing," he muttered softly.
Then he crouched slightly in front of her and pressed the hand warmer gently into her palms.
The heat immediately stung her frozen fingers.
Dasom stared at him through tear-filled eyes.
"Oscar…"
Oscar Sparks gave her a small, tired smile.
Oscar Sparks was the eldest son of Eugene Sparks — the longtime secretary of the Nicia family elders. Growing up directly across from the Lee estate meant Oscar had practically been raised alongside the Four Dons children.
He wasn't technically one of them.
But he'd always been close enough to count.
Now, at twenty-eight, Oscar worked as Grandpa Lee's personal secretary and was already being prepared to eventually become Mingyu's right hand once Shiwei officially passed into the next generation.
And despite his usually calm, composed nature—
Seeing Dasom sitting alone in the freezing rain at nearly three in the morning made something twist painfully inside his chest.
"You scared everyone tonight," he said quietly.
Dasom lowered her gaze immediately.
"…Sorry."
Oscar sighed softly before kneeling properly in front of her.
"You wanna tell me what happened?"
Dasom shook her head weakly.
"Not yet."
"Okay." He nodded without pushing further. "Then we won't talk about it yet."
That simple response nearly made her cry all over again.
Oscar noticed instantly.
"Hey." His voice softened even more. "No more crying tonight if we can help it, alright?"
Dasom nodded slowly.
Only then did Oscar notice her trembling hands tightening around the hand warmer.
His brows furrowed.
"Have you eaten since the banquet?"
Dasom blinked blankly before quietly answering:
"…I don't remember."
Oscar exhaled through his nose.
"Right. We're fixing that first."
He stood before offering her his hand.
"Come on, Petal."
Dasom hesitated for only a second before placing her cold hand into his.
Oscar's grip tightened reassuringly as he carefully helped her stand.
The chauffeur quickly retrieved her motorcycle while Oscar guided Dasom toward the warmth of the car, keeping one steady hand against the small of her back the entire time.
Oscar didn't take her back to the Lee estate.
Instead, he brought her to his city apartment overlooking the glowing skyline of Gold City.
The apartment was modern, quiet, and warmly lit — the complete opposite of the cold emptiness she'd felt earlier that night.
The moment they entered, Oscar handed her a pair of clean sweatpants and an oversized hoodie.
"Bathroom's down the hall," he said gently. "Take a hot shower first before you get sick."
Dasom stared at the clothes in her hands for a moment.
Then suddenly whispered:
"Thank you for coming to get me."
Oscar paused.
His expression softened almost painfully.
"There was never a world where I wouldn't."
- -
Once Dasom finished showering, the warmth finally began easing the tension from her body.
Oscar's oversized hoodie nearly swallowed her whole, the sleeves hanging past her hands as she quietly padded down the hallway barefoot, her damp hair falling in loose waves around her shoulders.
The apartment was calm and dimly lit.
For the first time all night, she could breathe properly.
As she entered the living room, she spotted Oscar Sparks standing near the floor-to-ceiling windows with his phone pressed to his ear.
His voice was calm and steady.
"She's safe, Gyu."
Dasom paused quietly by the hallway entrance.
"No," Oscar continued patiently, "she's calmer now. She just needed space."
A pause.
Then he sighed softly.
"I know you didn't mean it."
Dasom lowered her eyes.
Even after everything, Mingyu was probably losing his mind worrying about her.
"…She's here with me," Oscar reassured him again. "I'll take care of her tonight."
Dasom hesitated.
She didn't want to interrupt.
But hearing the exhaustion in Mingyu's voice through the phone made guilt settle heavily in her chest.
Slowly, she walked over and held out her hand silently.
Oscar glanced at her briefly before immediately passing her the phone.
"Bunny?" Mingyu's voice came instantly. Relief practically poured through the speaker. "Are you okay?"
Dasom curled slightly into herself.
"…I'm okay."
"You scared me."
She bit the inside of her cheek.
"I know."
For a second, neither of them spoke.
Then Dasom quietly said:
"You have a meeting with Yixing in the morning." Her voice softened. "You should get some sleep."
Gyu let out a tired breath on the other end.
"…You're still mad at me."
"Yes," she answered honestly.
That earned the faintest laugh from him.
"Fair."
"But…" Dasom sighed quietly. "I know you didn't mean it."
Silence.
Then Mingyu spoke softly.
"I'm sorry, Bunny."
Her chest tightened immediately hearing the sincerity in his voice.
"…I know."
Another pause.
"Can you come home tomorrow?" he asked carefully.
Dasom glanced toward Oscar before answering.
"Maybe."
Gyu knew better than to push further.
"…Okay."
His voice grew gentler.
"Thank you for calling me back."
Dasom's expression softened slightly.
"Goodnight, Oppa."
"Goodnight, Bunny."
The call ended shortly afterward.
Dasom stared at the dark screen for a moment before quietly handing the phone back to Oscar.
"You didn't have to do that," Oscar said softly.
"I know."
She looked emotionally drained now that the adrenaline had worn off.
Oscar took one look at her face and immediately changed the subject.
"Come eat before you pass out."
A warm bowl of kimchi jjigae sat waiting for her at the kitchen island along with rice and side dishes Oscar had quickly prepared while she showered.
The smell alone nearly made Dasom emotional again.
"You cooked?" she asked in surprise as she sat down.
Oscar shrugged casually while pouring her a glass of water.
"I had to learn somehow. Grandpa Lee works impossible hours."
Dasom smiled faintly into the steam rising from the soup.
The apartment slowly filled with quieter, softer conversation as they ate together.
Unlike the intensity she felt around Yixing or the emotional chaos from earlier with Bo and Mingyu, being with Oscar felt easy.
Safe.
Grounding.
At one point, Oscar glanced up from his food and noticed Dasom staring blankly at the table.
"You're thinking too hard again."
Dasom blinked before sighing quietly.
"…Am I really difficult to deal with?"
Oscar looked genuinely confused.
"You?"
She nodded weakly.
"Oscar…" Her voice dropped softer. "Sometimes I think everyone around me worries too much because of what happened to me."
Oscar's expression changed immediately.
He set his chopsticks down.
"Dasom."
She slowly looked up at him.
"What happened to you was traumatic." His voice was calm but firm. "That doesn't make you difficult."
Her eyes lowered again.
"You know," he continued gently, "you've spent so much time trying not to burden other people that you forgot you're allowed to fall apart sometimes too."
That hit her harder than she expected.
Dasom laughed weakly under her breath.
"…You sound old."
Oscar smirked slightly.
"I am older than you."
"By, like, a hundred years."
"Six."
"Same thing."
That finally earned a proper laugh from both of them. And for the first time that night—
Dasom genuinely felt okay again.