Tuesday morning hit me like a truck driven by Kang Dae-Hyun's ego.
I dragged myself into the office at 8:15 sharp this time—no way was I giving him ammo again. Hair sleek, makeup flawless, smile weaponized. The executive floor already buzzed with whispers.
"Did you see? Another bag gone. Third one this month." "Security says the CCTV blacks out for exactly four minutes every time." "Whoever it is, they're bold. That last one was a limited-edition Hermès."
I pretended not to listen, but my inner gossip radar pinged hard. Stolen designer bags? Glitching cameras? Oh my, this had girlie-case written all over it.
First obstacle of the day: the ice king himself.
I knocked once—politely this time—and entered his office carrying his usual black coffee and a stack of reports.
He was already at his desk, sleeves rolled up (why did forearms have to look that good?), eyes scanning a tablet like it owed him money.
"Morning, sir," I said, sweet as honey. "Coffee, reports, and your 9 a.m. rescheduled to 9:30 because traffic hates you."
He didn't look up. "Put it down. And stop calling me sir like you mean it."
I placed everything neatly. "What should I call you then? Your Highness? Lord of the Caffeine Addicts?"
Finally, those dark eyes flicked up. "Kang Dae-Hyun works. Or CEO Kang if you're feeling formal."
"Got it, CEO Kang." I paused. "You look tired. Bad dreams? Or just allergic to fun?"
A muscle in his jaw twitched. Jackpot.
"Mind your own business, Miss Han."
"Hard to when my business is literally you."
He leaned back, folding those stupidly perfect arms. "Today you're shadowing me in every meeting. No phone. No bathroom breaks longer than three minutes. No attitude."
I saluted. "Yes, master."
He glared. I grinned.
The man was exhausting, but damn if poking him wasn't the highlight of my week.
10:47 a.m. – The Lounge Heist Discovery
After surviving two back-to-back meetings where Dae-Hyun demolished grown men with a single raised eyebrow, I finally got five minutes to breathe.
I slipped into the executive lounge—a fancy room with plush sofas, free espresso, and a glass display of magazines nobody read.
That's when I saw her.
Kim Ji-Eun from Marketing, pretty, polished, and currently crying into a tissue while two other women comforted her.
"My Birkin… it was right here yesterday," she sniffled. "Limited edition. My husband waited six months for it."
The other women cooed sympathetically, but their eyes screamed gossip.
I edged closer, pretending to refill my water.
"Third bag this month," one whispered. "Always between 2 and 2:30 p.m. Always when half the floor's at lunch."
"And the cameras glitch exactly then," another added. "Security swears it's not a hack."
My brain lit up like fireworks.
Case. Officially. On.
I snapped a quick photo of the empty spot where the bag had been (evidence!) and texted the group chat.
Me: GIRLS. WE HAVE A MYSTERY. Me: Designer bags vanishing from executive lounge. CCTV blacks out same time every theft. Nari 📢: SHUT UP I'M COMING OVER RIGHT NOW Seoyeon 👠: Finally something juicy. That lounge has Chanel, Dior, Hermès level bags. Someone's building a collection. Ara 🧚♀️: Or selling them. Black market for luxury goods is wild these days. Jiwon 🧸: Be careful, Hyemi-ya. Don't get caught snooping at work. Me: Too late. I'm already in.
2:15 p.m. – The Almost-Caught Moment
I'd convinced security to let me "review footage" (lied and said CEO Kang ordered it). The guard bought it because nobody questions the devil's assistant.
I sat in the tiny monitoring room, replaying yesterday's feed.
2:02 p.m. – Lounge empty except for Ji-Eun placing her Birkin on the side table. 2:08 p.m. – She leaves for lunch. 2:12 p.m. – Screen flickers. Static. Blackout. 2:16 p.m. – Feed returns. Bag gone. Lounge still empty.
Four minutes. Exact.
No one in, no one out.
I rewound again. Enhanced brightness. Zoomed.
There—a tiny shadow in the corner. Too blurry.
But someone had definitely been there.
I was so focused I didn't hear the door open.
"What are you doing?"
I jumped so hard my knee hit the desk.
Kang Dae-Hyun stood in the doorway, arms crossed, looking like judgment day in a three-piece suit.
"Uh—reviewing security footage. Like you asked?" Total lie.
His eyes narrowed. "I didn't ask."
Crap.
I stood quickly, smoothing my skirt. "Well, someone should. Three bags stolen in a month? That's bad for company image."
He stepped inside. The tiny room suddenly felt like a closet.
"And you appointed yourself detective?"
"Somebody has to. Security's useless."
He moved closer, peering at the frozen screen. His shoulder brushed mine. Heat radiated off him like a furnace.
I held my breath.
He studied the glitch, expression unreadable.
"Send me the files," he said finally. "I'll handle it."
I blinked. "You're… investigating?"
"It's my company. Things disappear on my watch, I fix it."
Boss mode activated. Hot, annoying, but kinda impressive.
"Fine," I said. "But I'm helping."
"No."
"Yes."
"Miss Han—"
"CEO Kang," I mimicked his tone. "You need me. I have access to places you don't. People talk to the assistant, not the scary boss."
He stared at me for a long beat.
"You're enjoying this too much."
"Guilty."
He sighed—the first human sound I'd heard from him. "Fine. But you report to me. No solo missions."
I grinned. "Deal."
He turned to leave, then paused. "And Han Hyemi?"
"Yeah?"
"Next time you lie to security using my name, make sure I don't find out."
He left.
I exhaled. Heart racing.
Why did arguing with him feel like flirting?
Gross. No. Stop it. Ahhh!
6:30 p.m. – The Smiling Devil Appears
I was packing up, ready to escape to girlie debrief, when a voice called my name.
"Hyemi-ya!"
I turned—and nearly dropped my bag.
Lee Min-Ho. No, not the actor. But close enough.
Same university, two years my senior. Marketing director at a rival company back then. Always smiling, always charming, always surrounded by girls.
Now standing in our lobby holding a bouquet of pink roses like we were in a drama.
"Min-Ho sunbaenim?" I laughed, shocked. "What are you doing here?"
"Business meeting with your finance team. Saw your name on the directory—had to say hi." He handed me the roses. "You look… wow. Even prettier than college."
I felt my cheeks heat. "Flatterer. You haven't changed."
Employees passing by were staring. Whispering.
Great. Office gossip fuel.
We chatted for ten minutes—easy, light, nostalgic. He asked about my life, laughed at my jokes, touched my arm twice.
Classic sunbae charm.
Then I felt it.
That prickling on the back of my neck.
I looked up.
Kang Dae-Hyun stood by the elevators, watching us.
Expression blank.
But his eyes? Storm clouds.
He didn't move. Just stared.
Min-Ho noticed too. "That the famous CEO Kang? Looks like he wants to murder me."
I laughed nervously. "He always looks like that."
But when I glanced back, Dae-Hyun was gone.
Weird.
9:00 p.m. – Girlie Emergency Meeting (aka Wine & Crime Time)
My apartment. All four girlies sprawled across my living room like it was headquarters.
Seoyeon was already three glasses in, examining the roses Min-Ho sent (delivered to my desk after he left—smooth bastard).
"Pink roses? Classic move. He wants back in your pants," she declared.
"Language!" Jiwon scolded, but she was smiling.
Ara sipped her tea calmly. "He's handsome. Successful. Polite. Why not date him?"
"Because I'm busy hating my boss," I muttered.
Nari screeched. "WAIT. BACK UP. Your hot sunbae shows up with flowers AND your CEO looked like he wanted to commit homicide??"
I groaned, face in pillow. "It wasn't that bad."
"Liar," Seoyeon said. "I know that look. Possessive chaebol glare. Moments of jealousy incoming."
"There's nothing to be jealous of! Dae-Hyun hates me."
Four pairs of eyes stared.
"Girl," Nari said slowly. "Men don't glare like that at women they hate. They glare like that at women they want but won't admit."
"Delusional."
Ara smiled wisely. "Denial is the first stage."
I threw a cushion at her.
Then we got to business.
Case #1: The Phantom Bag Snatcher.
Seoyeon (fashion expert): "Those bags are worth 30-100 million won each. Someone's either rich and twisted or fencing them."
Nari (gossip queen): "I already dug online. Similar thefts at two other big companies last year. Same glitch pattern."
Jiwon: "Maybe an inside job? Someone with access to security codes."
Ara: "Or someone being blackmailed."
Me: "Tomorrow I'm getting the employee lunch schedules. We map who's where when the cameras die."
Nari raised her glass. "To our first official case!"
We clinked.
And somewhere across the city, I swear I felt Kang Dae-Hyun's glare again.
Next morning – 8:55 a.m.
I walked into his office with coffee and a bright smile.
He looked up—and froze.
Not at me.
At the single pink rose I'd stuck in my hair (Seoyeon's idea—"make him squirm").
His jaw tightened.
"Meeting starts in five," he said, voice colder than yesterday.
"Yes, sir."
I turned to leave.
"Han Hyemi."
I paused.
"Throw that flower away. It's distracting."
I touched the rose, smirking. "Jealous of a flower, CEO Kang?"
His eyes flashed. "Don't push me."
Too late.
I was already pushing.
And something told me he was about to push back—hard.