The city noise faded as I stepped out of the car, my heels clicking softly against the pavement. Just as I took another step, a deep voice stopped me.
"My reward?"
I turned back slowly. Sylus leaned casually, peaking out of the window, glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, lips curved with quiet mischief. The look in his eyes made my heart race.
"What reward?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady as I walked closer till I stood infornt of him, a sly smile spread on his lips.
His hand came up effortlessly, fingers wrapping around the back of my neck as if they belonged there. He pulled me in suddenly. The kiss was firm and confident, stealing my breath.
My body froze for a moment before heat rushed to my cheeks and settled low in my stomach. "What was that... a peck? Or a kiss?" I could feel him smile against my lips before he pulled back.
"Well," he murmured, his voice smooth and warm, "When you're done, let me know, my beloved. Okay?" I nodded, still a bit dazed. I forced myself to turn away. I felt his gaze on my back as I walked inside, trying to steady myself, trying to breathe as if nothing had just unraveled me in the street.
Inside the agency, everything moved quickly. People talked, phones rang, and fabric brushed past. The assistant greeted me with a polite smile and checked her list.
"The creative director will be a bit late," she said. "You can wait at the rooftop café. Help yourself to anything." The elevator ride up felt too quiet. When the doors opened, warm light spilled over the space. The rooftop café overlooked the city, with glass walls framing the skyline, and a beautiful, calming ambience. The smell of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air. I sat for a moment, letting the calm settle my nerves, watching steam curl from a cup someone had left nearby.
I stood up to get my own coffee. As I ordered an espresso. Within minutes, the coffee was in my hands. Steam rose from the cup, carrying the rich scent of a fresh brew. I walked back happily. That was when I bumped into someone.
The cup tilted dangerously in my hand. "SOR-" The words were caught in my throat as my gaze met the person I bumped into. The face in front of me seemed too familiar. Tall, sharp features, and long hair styled in a loose wolf cut. He wore an expensive suit that fit him perfectly. His gaze locked onto mine, intense and unreadable. And there, just beneath his lips, was the small mole I could never forget.
My heart skipped a beat.
Before I could process my rush of recognition, footsteps approached quickly.
"Ella." Cameron's voice cut through the moment as he walked up with a casual smile, completely unaware of the tension tightening my chest.
"Perfect timing. I was just about to call you," he said, then turned slightly toward the man beside me.
"You two haven't met properly, right? This is my older brother, Kang Yul. He just got back from Korea." My fingers tightened around the coffee cup. Kang Yul never looked away from me. A slow, amused grin spread across his lips, deliberate and unsettling.
"Looks like introductions won't be necessary," he said softly, mischief woven into every word.
He reached out to me, his hand smooth and deliberate.
"Kang Yul," His voice deep and smooth.
"I'm the new creative director." His sly grin settled like a mask I recognized too well. It was polished and controlled, familiar in a way that made my stomach tighten. "You are the new Creative Director...."
I hesitated for a moment before shaking his hand, doubting myself, whether I was in a dream or this was all just a trail of an unlucky day. His grip was firm, lingering just long enough to feel intentional. I pulled back first.
Cameron chimed in with his usual enthusiastic smile, "Let's all have some coffee then!"
We took our seats near the glass railing, the city stretching endlessly below us. Cameron leaned against the chair, relaxed and unaware of the tension building in my chest. Kang Yul sat across from me, his posture easy, his eyes sharp, tracking every small movement I made. I held my coffee cup tightly, as if it could hold me steady.
"So," Cameron said casually, smiling at both of us. "How do you guys know each other?"
His question felt heavier than it should have.
Before I could respond, Kang Yul smoothly answered, his voice calm and almost fond.
"We were in the same orphanage. Same school, too."
My jaw tightened. I nodded once, keeping my eyes down on the steam rising from my cup. I could feel his steady, unblinking gaze on me, as if he was waiting for me to look up.
"Oh," Cameron said, surprised. "Friends then?"
I slowly lifted my head and spoke before I could lose my nerve. I avoided Kang Yul's eyes.
"Actually, no. Enemies." The word felt bitter but true.
"We were enemies," I continued, keeping my tone light even as my pulse quickened.
"Your brother was… kind of a bully back then." Kang Yul laughed softly, leaning back in his chair, completely unfazed.
"Was I?" He tilted his head slightly, as if remembering. "All I did was drench you in milkshakes, shred your notes, and lock you away a couple of times."
Cameron straightened up. "What? Brother, that's called bullying."
He turned to me, genuinely apologetic. "I'm sorry. On his behalf."
"It's alright," I said, forcing a small smile. "No hard feelings."
That was only half true. "At least you're nothing like your brother," I added, directing my comment to Cameron.
Cameron laughed awkwardly. "Well, he was adopted before my parents had me."
I nodded slowly, the information settling into my mind with a strange clarity. Kang Yul's smile remained unchanged. His eyes stayed on me, unreadable and amused, as if he knew how unsettled I felt and enjoyed every moment of it.
The wind brushed lightly across the rooftop, stirring my hair, but the tension at the table remained.
Cameron kept discussing the upcoming shoot, explaining concepts, timelines, and locations, but I could barely focus. Each time I tried to follow his words, I felt Kang Yul's gaze return to me. It was steady and deliberate, as if he were studying reactions only he understood.
"So the campaign theme is contrast," Cameron said, scrolling through something on his tablet. "Soft elegance with a darker undertone. Kang Yul actually came up with the visual direction."
I finally looked across the table. Kang Yul was already staring at me.
"Interesting choice," I said cautiously. His lips curved slightly. "I thought it would suit you."
The way he said it made the air feel heavier. It was neither professional nor casual; it was personal. Cameron stood up after a moment. "I need to grab a file from downstairs. You two can go over the reference shots. I'll be back in five."
Before I could protest, he was already heading toward the elevator.
Silence filled the space the moment he left. I reached for my coffee, not because I needed it but to have something to do. Kang Yul leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table, still watching me with the same calm intensity.
"You look different," he said quietly.
"People change," I said, avoiding his gaze, texting to Asher
"Not everything." His voice lowered enough that it felt private. "You still hold your cup the same way when you're uncomfortable."
My fingers tightened unconsciously, and I forced myself to relax my grip. "That was a long time ago," I said. "For you, maybe."
His gaze softened for an instant, then sharpened again.
"I remember things very clearly."
I rose from my seat, ready to leave, that's when I felt a strong grip on my wrist, the same grip, stronger than I knew it. My heart fastened as anxiety was crawling in deep, I wanted to disappear
"Still running." I halted, irritation rising before I even turned around. "Still talking when no one asked." He let out a soft laugh. He walked closer, slow and relaxed, as if the space between us was his. "You always did that. Pretend you weren't affected."
"I'm.Not," I said. His eyes briefly dropped to my clenched hand gripping the bag strap. "Your fingers say otherwise."
"That's called self-control."
"And yet you stayed." His smile sharpened. "I thought we would end up like an enemies-to-lovers scenario."
I stepped closer instead, lowering my voice. "Let me make this clear. Whatever games you played back then won't work now. I have a life. I have someone. Stay out of it."
He studied me for a moment, then nodded slowly, as if weighing the warning. "Someone, huh." His tone held a hint of amusement. "He must be impressive if you're this defensive."
"That's none of your concern." "Everything around you tends to become my concern." His gaze locked onto mine, calm and unsettling. "Especially when I have to work this closely with you."
"Then keep it professional," I said. "That shouldn't be hard unless you still act like a high school bully." His smile returned, slower this time.
"You think I bully because I dislike someone."
He leaned in slightly.
"I usually do it when I find them interesting." I rolled my eyes, taking a step back, slipping from his grip, keeping distance between us.
He continued,
" Even back then, I used to bully you, do you know why?" His words made all that curiosity in me that I had buried away rise upto the surface. He smiled, slyly stepping forward,
" Because I wanted to get the reaction out of you. Because I wanted your attention." A brief silence settled between us, tension sharp and clear. I could feel my hands turn cold chills down my spine as.
If every instinct warns me to run away from this nightmare. He stepped back at last, straightening his jacket. "Relax. I won't chase you." A pause. "Not yet."
My jaw tightened, my nails digging hard into my palm as if It would suppress all the anxiety stirring inside me, go away.
"Welcome back to my life, Squirrel," He said lightly. "You always made things more entertaining."
I turned toward the elevator without replying, but the faint sound of his chuckle followed me inside, leaving a clear feeling that trouble had just returned to my life.
"Ella, we're ready for you," Cameron called from across the room as the stylist walked up to me quickly. I nodded and followed the stylist to the changing room. The next look was a cheery Inspired theme. When I stepped out a few minutes later, the room seemed to pause.
The dress was a deep red, flowing down my body and opening into a slit from the knee. The fabric moved like liquid with every step. The back dipped low, almost bare, with a delicate gold chain resting along my spine. My hair was styled into soft waves that fell over one shoulder, framing the bold red wine makeup they had created. A small bow detail sat at my waist, subtle but elegant.
Outside, the set was ready, white arches with soft lights setting a redish hue background, creating a warm glow across the space. The air smelled faintly sweet, like roses and fresh greenery. Cameras were being adjusted. Assistants moved quietly. Everything felt controlled and polished.
"Perfect," the photographer said as I stepped onto the set. "Just relax. Think soft and romantic."
I positioned myself near the floral arch, fingers brushing lightly over the petals as the first flashes began. The fabric of the dress shifted with each movement, catching the light and creating a smooth ripple of red. I tilted my head slightly, letting my gaze soften as they wanted, shoulders relaxed and posture natural. The shoot moved quickly. Look over the shoulder. Every instruction flowed into the next.
For a moment, I forgot the rooftop and the tension from earlier, focusing only on the rhythm of the camera clicking. Then, between flashes, my eyes drifted beyond the lights. Near the edge of the set, partially hidden behind the equipment, a familiar figure stood watching. Hands in pockets. Calm. Observing.
Kang Yul. He was not part of the shoot, yet he stood there as if he had every right to be, his gaze steady and unreadable, taking in every movement as if he were studying something he already owned.
"Beautiful, Ella. Hold that," the photographer said. I kept my expression composed, chin lifting slightly, but a hint of unease curled low in my chest. The camera flashes continued, bright and constant, while somewhere beyond them his eyes remained fixed on me, patient, unsettling, and far too interested.
"Part your lips slightly," the photographer instructed. "Good. Now lift your hand near your face. Let the rings catch the light." I raised my hand slowly, my fingers brushing the curve of my jaw. My thumb paused near the corner of my lips like he wanted. The gold rings glimmered under the soft garden lighting, with tiny reflections dancing across the camera lens. I softened my gaze, breathed evenly, and let my expression settle between distant and inviting.
"Perfect. Hold that," he said, clicking the camera rapidly. The silk of the red dress shifted lightly against my legs as I changed angles, allowing the slit to reveal just enough movement. A faint breeze from the set fans lifted a strand of my hair across my shoulder. I tilted my chin slightly, my lips still parted, and lowered my eyes enough to match the romantic mood he was creating.
Another flash. "Beautiful. Now turn halfway, look back over your shoulder." I followed his direction. The delicate gold chain along my back caught the light as I moved. My fingers trailed briefly along the fabric near my waist before rising again near my lips, slow and controlled, just as he instructed.
"Alright, let's bring Cameron in," the photographer said. I adjusted my posture as Cameron stepped onto the set, his sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms, the soft garden lighting shining on him. He paused for a moment when he saw the setup, then walked the rest of the way and stopped in front of me.
"Ready?" he asked quietly. I nodded. "Closer," the photographer instructed. "Cameron, hold her by the waist. Gentle Couple shoot."
Cameron's hand rested on my waist, warm but careful, pulling me slightly toward him. The pendant of my necklace hung near my collarbone. At the next instruction, he leaned in and lifted the pendant gently between his lips as part of the pose. His eyes met mine, focused and professional, but something hard to read flickered there for a moment.
"Perfect," the photographer said. "Ella, look down at him. Soft expression." I followed his direction, tilting my chin slightly and lowering my gaze, but all I could feel was my heart racing seeing him looking at me like that. The cameras began clicking again, flashes illuminating the flowers around us. He was such a handsome guy, hair up like that, looking at me with hunger clear in his eyes.
"Hold that. Beautiful," the photographer continued. Cameron's grip on my waist tightened just enough to keep the pose steady while I lifted one hand gently to his shoulder. My heartbeat started to quicken for no clear reason. It was getting hard to maintain the professionalism, "I can't mess this up..." I continued as the shoot went by.
-----------
Kang Yul Pov~
Tsk. Look at Her.
I press my tongue against the inside of my cheek, watching her sit beneath those artificial lights as if she belongs there. The red dress, the soft expression, the way she lowers her gaze while my brother lays his head in her lap. Anyone else would think she looks gentle. I know better. Seeing her this close to him twists something unpleasant in my chest. It's sharp enough to make me think a dangerous thought.
I might end up killing my own brother one day. That would be a waste. Losing my only brother over a woman would be inconvenient, but that irritation lingers.
She is a minx. Always has been. Even back then, when she had that cold, distant vibe that kept everyone away, something about her refused to be ordinary. She never tried to fit in or please anyone. She just watched people, silent and observant, like she was studying the world instead of living in it. That was what first caught my attention. Not her face or voice, but the strange calm she had when others panicked.
I still remember the rooftop. The wind howled that night, with the city lights flickering far below. Someone stood near the edge, shaking and crying, their voice cracking as they begged her to say something, to stop them, to do anything.
She did nothing. She did not push or threaten. She just stood there, quiet, eyes fixed, watching the moment unfold like it was meant to be. When the body finally disappeared over the edge, she did not scream or run. She just looked down for a second, expression unchanged. That was the moment I knew she was not like the others. It was not the situation itself that amused me. It was her stillness, her lack of fear, her ability to stand beside death and remain untouched.
And now here she is, sitting gracefully under soft lights, letting photographers capture a version of her that looks warm and almost tender.
The transformation would fool anyone else. It does not fool me. I can still see the sharpness hidden beneath the polished surface, the same quiet darkness that once made her fascinating. People change on the surface, but their core rarely does.
Most probably, she has simply learned to wear softness like a disguise. And somehow, watching her now, I find that version of her even more dangerous than the one I knew before.
The shoot finally ended. Assistants moved around to clear the set while the lights dimmed, one by one. She stepped aside, excusing herself as her phone vibrated in her hand. I didn't need to see the screen to know who it was. The moment her face lit up and that soft, unguarded smile formed at the corners of her lips, the answer was clear.
Sylus.
Of course. My jaw tightened as I watched her turn slightly away. Her voice lowered, and her expression softened in a way she never allowed with me. Just a call, nothing more, yet it was enough to change her entire presence. That same smile once belonged to Asher. Back then, I told myself it didn't matter. People come and go. Expressions change. But now, watching it return for someone else, irritation slowly turned into something darker.
Why not me?
I have known her longer than any of them. I have seen parts of her they will never even suspect exist. I know the silence she carries, the darkness she pretends no longer lives inside her. Yet a simple phone call from him is enough to make her look… warm.
My tongue presses against the inside of my cheek, a familiar habit returning as I watch her laugh softly at something he says. I stepped closer, my fingers lightly brushing the delicate chain down her open back. She flinched, and that surprised me. Years ago, she never reacted to anything, not touch, not threats, not fear. Now, that small movement held my attention.
She turned, her eyes narrowing slightly. Caution settled into her expression. Sunlight streamed through the tall window behind her, wrapping her in a soft glow that made the moment seem much calmer than it actually was. Up close, she was even more unsettling. Calm on the surface, but something unreadable lurked beneath.
"Boyfriend?" I asked, a faint smirk on my lips.
She tried to step past me, but I leaned in just enough to block her path. She stepped back until the glass pressed lightly against her shoulders.
"None of your business," she said. I laughed quietly. "I have a lot of questions, Ella. I just don't think you can answer them." For a moment, I studied her face before shaking my head slightly. "You know what you are?" I said.
"You're the devil. Always were."
Her eyes met mine, and something shifted. Instead of irritation, a slow smile appeared on her lips. She stepped forward suddenly, closing the distance I had created. She caught the front of my coat and pulled me down slightly. The unexpected movement made me step back a half-step, more surprised than I cared to admit.
Her breath brushed against my ear as she leaned closer. Her voice was low, steady, and completely unbothered. She whispered,
"You cannot fathom the immensity of fuck I do not give about you."