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The brunette arrived at the company, and it was everything she expected—sleek, futuristic, and far beyond anything she had ever imagined. The building itself was massive, its glass exterior reflecting the city's skyline, a modern marvel that looked like something straight out of the sci-fi movies she used to watch.

What caught her eye, though, were the moving robots gliding effortlessly across the floor, delivering packages and documents.

She approached the reception desk, a confident smile on her face as she spoke, "I have an appointment with Mr. Park."

The receptionist, with an air of professionalism, checked her schedule, confirming the appointment. "Right this way, Miss," she said, gesturing for her to follow.

As they rode the elevator, the floors seemed to climb higher and higher, each level more luxurious than the last. Finally, they reached the top floor, and when the doors opened, Iseul couldn't help but gasp softly.

The space was the epitome of extravagance. The floor was expansive, with walls of floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning view of the city below.

Everything had a polished, almost intimidating, perfection to it. The furniture alone looked more expensive than the entire apartment she lived in.

Iseul stood there for a moment, her eyes scanning the opulence, her thoughts racing. Damn, this is all his?The realization hit her like a wave, and for a brief second, she felt small in the face of it all.

Iseul followed the secretary down a long corridor, each step echoing against the marble floors.

When they reached the large wooden door at the end of the hall, the secretary stopped and knocked softly before opening it.

"Sir, Miss Iseul is here," the secretary said, then with a polite nod, she stepped aside, allowing Iseul to enter.

The office was as sleek as the rest of the building—modern, clean lines, a mixture of dark wood, steel, and glass.

Sunghoon sat behind an oversized desk, his posture perfect, his eyes already fixed on her the moment she entered. He didn't rise to greet her, didn't show any warmth. His gaze, cold and unreadable, flicked over her, scanning her from head to toe.

Iseul could feel his eyes linger on the dress she wore—blue, short, and undeniably elegant. She knew exactly what he was thinking.

He knew why she was here.

Iseul's lips curled into a smile as she walked towards him, feeling the air between them thick with unspoken words. She moved with the same grace and confidence she'd always had, even when their relationship had crumbled.

The tension in the room was palpable as she took the seat he motioned toward, never breaking eye contact.

"The company is very beautiful," she said, her tone sweet but laced with something deeper. "You've really achieved your dream."

Sunghoon's gaze softened for a brief moment, but only for a fraction of a second before his expression hardened again. "Thank you," he replied, his voice clipped, professional.

His eyes flickered briefly to the dress again before returning to meet hers. His hand rested lightly on the desk, fingers tapping absentmindedly, though his mind was clearly elsewhere.

"I didn't have the opportunity to thank you properly for yesterday," Iseul said, breaking the silence, her voice laced with a hint of sarcasm. "For coming and for not letting me go to jail."

"It's no big deal," he replied flatly, his voice devoid of emotion, as if dismissing the gravity of the situation.

The silence between them thickened once more, and Iseul couldn't stand it. She shifted in her seat, her mind racing with unasked questions.

Finally, unable to tolerate the quiet any longer, she asked, "Sunghoon, why did you call? I didn't expect it."

He went still for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if trying to decide whether or not to say more. Despite his lack of expression, there was something hidden in those dark depths—something unreadable, something raw. She could see the storm brewing behind those carefully controlled eyes.

He leaned forward slightly, his fingers pressing into the surface of the desk as he spoke, his voice calm but with an edge she hadn't heard in a long time.

"I saw how you were doing yesterday," he said, his gaze hardening. "And it made me think of the past. So... I talked to the lawyer."

For a brief moment, Iseul wasn't sure if she should feel relieved or insulted. What was he playing at? Was this his way of making amends, or was it just another of his cold, calculated moves?

Her heart raced, but she kept her composure, forcing a small smile as she replied, "I see."

Sunghoon reached into his drawer and pulled out a piece of paper, sliding it across the desk towards her. "I want you to sign this."

Iseul's eyes flickered from the paper to his face, suspicion creeping up her spine. "What is this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"A compromise," Sunghoon said coolly, his gaze unwavering. "So that you don't bother me again, and you won't use my name for your own gain."

Iseul felt as though a cold bucket of ice had been dumped over her. Her pulse quickened, and for a moment, the room seemed to close in on her. The situation was slipping further from her control, and she hated it.

"If you sign it," he continued, his tone almost indifferent, "you can take this money."

He slid an envelope towards her, its crisp edges a stark contrast to the tension in the air.

Iseul stared at it, her mind racing. The weight of the decision pressed down on her, suffocating. She didn't reach for the envelope right away. Instead, her brows furrowed, her breath becoming shallow, almost unsteady.

This wasn't how she had imagined this encounter going. Not at all.

Sunghoon smirked, noticing the change in her demeanor. "Why the surprise?" he asked, his voice laced with mock amusement. "Wasn't this the goal from the beginning? For us to never see each other again?"

He looked away for a moment, as if something amused him that he couldn't quite hide. "This paper is important. Of course, you've heard—I'm a millionaire now. You made Chaeryeong call me, didn't you? Always planning something, Iseul. You've always been like that."

Her gaze hardened as she locked eyes with him, determined not to let him see the vulnerability creeping in. "You really think I'm that predictable?" she asked quietly, but the fire in her voice was unmistakable. "That I'd just come crawling back for your money?"

Sunghoon's smirk faltered for just a moment, but he quickly masked it. The tension between them was palpable, a silent battle waging in the air.

"You already know the answer to that," he said, leaning back in his chair, watching her closely. "You've always been good at playing games, Iseul. But this one's over."

She stood frozen for a moment, unsure of how to react. The words felt like they had been carved into her chest, each one more painful than the last.

When Sunghoon spoke again, his voice was cold, almost too calm. "When we got divorced, I couldn't give you money," he said, using the term for financial support. "So, consider this your compensation. I'm sure it's enough. You don't have much to spend it on anyway."

Each word was a stab to her pride, a reminder of everything she had lost. The effort she'd put into looking beautiful for him, the hope that maybe, just maybe, he'd apologize, had all been in vain.

He wasn't the man she remembered. He was a stranger—someone who now saw her as nothing more than a transaction, a problem to be solved with money.

Iseul fought the tears that threatened to break free, her chest constricting with anger and disbelief. She had wanted to scream, to throw something at him, but instead, her body moved on autopilot.

She slowly reached for the pen, her hand trembling ever so slightly as she signed the paper in front of her.

The silence that followed was deafening.

She stood up, the weight of the moment heavy on her shoulders. Sunghoon didn't even look at her as he spoke again. "The money," he said, his tone dismissive.

Iseul's breath caught in her throat as she turned back to face him, her voice shaking with a mixture of fury and disbelief.

"What the heck are you doing?" she demanded, her eyes burning with emotion. "You think you can humiliate me just because you've got a little extra cash?"

Sunghoon's brow furrowed in confusion, but the sting of her words didn't seem to reach him. Iseul's hands trembled with anger as she grabbed the paycheck from the desk, the paper feeling like a symbol of everything she had lost—everything he had taken from her.

With one swift motion, she ripped it in half, the sound of the paper tearing like a final, bitter goodbye.

"I hope you choke on your money," she spat, throwing the shredded remains at his face, the force of her words cutting through the tension in the room like a blade.

She snatched her bag from the chair, the rage coursing through her veins, ready to leave, but something stopped her. She turned back, her gaze steady but filled with so much pain that it made his chest ache.

"For one second, I thought you were going to apologize," she said, her voice low and shaking with the weight of her emotions. "I thought, after all these years, maybe you'd see what you put me through. But now? Not only has your appearance changed, but so has your heart. It's become blackened, tarnished with greed and arrogance."

She could barely contain the tears welling in her eyes, but she wouldn't let him see them. Not now. Not after everything he had done. "I was wrong," she whispered, more to herself than to him. "I should've known."

Iseul stormed out of the room, the door slamming behind her with a force that matched the fury building inside her. Her hands were trembling, but she didn't care.

As she descended the stairs, her chest tightening with each step, tears began to fall, streaking down her face. Her emotions, already raw from the confrontation, spilled over.

But just as she reached the bottom of the staircase, a sharp, burning sensation caught her off guard. A cup of coffee, splashing onto her dress, seared her skin. She gasped, the hot liquid scalding her, but when she looked up, the girl responsible didn't even spare her a glance.

She simply rolled her eyes and turned away, leaving Iseul standing there, burning and humiliated.

The pain radiated from her chest, but it was the cold indifference of the girl that made the anger bubble up again. "An apology would've been nice!" Iseul shouted after her, her voice cracking with frustration and hurt. But the girl didn't even flinch, disappearing around the corner as if she hadn't heard a thing.

A man, standing a few steps away, took notice of Iseul's distress. His expression softened when he saw her tear-streaked face, and with concern in his voice, he approached her. "Are you okay?"

The question, simple and genuine, broke whatever fragile composure she had left. Iseul crumpled, her shoulders shaking as she began to cry uncontrollably. "No... I'm not okay," she sobbed, her voice thick with emotion. "This coffee... it's so hot, and that dude—he humiliated me." She wiped her tears hastily, but it was no use. The floodgates had opened. "He got rich, and I got poor. Everyone around me has a life, except for me." Her voice trembled as she glanced at the ruined dress. "This dress... I just bought it. And now it's ruined."

The man, still unsure of the full story, stood by her, not leaving her side. He wasn't sure what had happened, but his instinct told him to stay and offer some comfort. "I don't know what's going on, but... hey, calm down, okay?" His voice was soft, like a lifeline in the chaos. "Don't cry. Just breathe in and out. You're gonna be alright."

Iseul, her breath shaky and uneven, tried to take a deep breath as he had suggested. It was hard, but slowly, she started to regain some control. The tears subsided, though her chest still heaved with the weight of everything she had been holding in. She looked up at the man, who was still standing there, waiting for her to find her ground.

His quiet patience and the concern in his eyes did something to her that she hadn't felt in a while—she felt seen, even if only for a moment.

The man let out a soft laugh at her response, his smile a bit more relaxed now. "I don't know about the others, but that dress really suits you. The coffee just gave it some extra color," he teased gently.

Iseul shot him a strange look, still sniffling a bit, but the corners of her mouth twitched into a reluctant chuckle. The tension in her chest loosened just a little.

"It's all good now, right?" he asked, a reassuring warmth in his voice.

"Yeah, thanks," she replied, wiping her face with the back of her hand. She was about to stand up, to regain some dignity, but the man stopped her with another question.

"Miss, do you work here?" he asked, his tone curious.

Iseul couldn't help but snort, shaking her head. "God forbid," she muttered under her breath, giving him a playful eye roll. It felt good to not take everything so seriously, at least for this moment.

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