"…NOVA Creative."
The taxi driver nods and merges back into traffic.
My fingers tremble in my lap. I open my phone. I shouldn't. I know I shouldn't. But I have to understand.
I type "Baek Sujin exhibition" into the search bar.
Dozens of videos appear instantly. They're all the same. My design.
Doodles. Experiments. Things I wasn't confident enough to show anyone. All displayed under her name.
My blood runs cold. "How—?"
Those designs… they were in Minho's house. In his study, on his desk. Sometimes beside his coffee mug, when I'd stay over and sketch while he worked late.
He always said it was "cute."He always said he liked seeing me "play pretend designer."
My stomach twists.
He lied. He was taking them. Feeding them to her.
Thunder cracks in the distance. Or maybe that's just the sound my world makes when it collapses
The taxi rolls to a stop in front of NOVA Creative's glass tower.
The building looms above me, shimmering with cold silver light. My hand shakes as I pay the fare and step out. The sky is dark and cloudy, I feel the drizzle on my skin as I wonder if the Sky was equally as upset.
Then I step inside.
The lobby receptionist lifts her head the moment she sees me.
Her eyes widen; recognition, surprise, something like pity flickering before she hides it behind a polite smile.
"Miss Han… you're here." Her voice is too careful.
I force myself to stand straight. "Yes. I need to see Minho."
She swallows. Her gaze flicks down to her monitor. Even if she doesn't say it, I can tell, She's seen the news.
Her fingers hover over the keyboard. "Your registered access was… recently changed."
A pause. "Should I request temporary permission from the back end?"
A hollow ache opens in my chest. Recently changed. He downgraded my access without telling me.
I manage a small nod. "Please."
She taps a headset. "Hello—yes, Miss Han is here. She's requesting access to the CEO level."
A long pause. Her eyes dart away from mine. "I… understand. Okay."
She hangs up and scans something.
A temporary pass prints out, sliding toward me. "Here you go, Miss Han."
Her smile trembles. But she says nothing else.
I take the pass and swipe into the elevator.
As the doors close, the lobby fades behind me. The quiet inside the elevator is crushing.
When the doors open, the top-floor receptionist is already standing.
"Miss Han." Her tone is stiff, professional, almost rehearsed. No warmth.
Something is wrong here. Something deeper than the scandal.
I walk down the hallway; it was too quiet, too polished, too cold. I reach Minho's office door.
It's slightly open. And I hear her voice. Sujin.
"…Minho, your girlfriend will be angry if she sees us like this."
My blood freezes.
Minho laughs softly, a warm, indulgent sound I haven't heard in weeks.
"She won't. Harin does whatever I tell her. And besides—" There's a soft giggle. "Look at this cute face. Who could ever be angry at you?"
My throat tightens. I push the door open just a little more.
Sujin is sitting on Minho's desk.
Her back to me, her legs crossed, her skirt riding high.
Minho stands between her knees, his hand cupping her cheek.
She loops her arms around his neck. "I love you, Minho. You're too sweet to me…"
For a moment, I think the world stops spinning.
My fingers slip from the doorframe.
"Minho," I whisper, barely a sound.
Both of them turn. Minho's hand drops from her face.
Sujin's smile doesn't. Her eyes flash with something victorious.
"Ah," she says softly, "Harin. You're here."
Minho doesn't say my name. He doesn't even look shocked. He just looks… annoyed.
And for the first time . . .
I realize I never really knew him at all.