Some people meet by chance. We met because of a secret.

CHAPTER 1

The Worst First Meeting

The first time I met Kang Ji-hyun, I spilled coffee on his shirt.

Not accidentally.

Well...

Maybe it was technically an accident.

But if you asked him, I was probably a criminal.

The rain had started before eight that morning. By nine, Seoul looked like someone had poured gray paint over the entire city.

People rushed beneath umbrellas, cars crawled through traffic, and cafés were packed with people escaping the weather.

I was one of them.

Unfortunately, I was also late.

Very late.

“Please don’t be late today.”

Those had been my roommate Mina’s exact words that morning.

I’d laughed.

“I’m never late.”

She’d stared at me.

“Seo-ah, you were late yesterday.”

“That was different.”

“And the day before.”

“Also different.”

“And last Monday.”

I’d grabbed my bag.

“Why are you keeping records of my failures?”

“Because someone needs to.”

I’d thrown a pillow at her before leaving.

Now, forty minutes later, I was running through the rain wondering why I’d ever claimed to be a responsible adult.

My umbrella had broken.

My shoes were soaked.

My hair was sticking to my face.

And my job interview started in exactly twenty-three minutes.

I checked my phone.

9:37 AM.

The company was fifteen minutes away if I could find a taxi.

Which I couldn’t.

“Of course.”

A taxi passed without stopping.

Another did the same.

Thunder rumbled above me.

“Really?”

I sighed.

Then I saw a café across the street.

I could at least buy a coffee and breathe.

That was my first mistake.

The second was ordering an iced Americano.

The third was walking while looking at my phone.

And the fourth...

Was crashing into him.

The café door swung open as I rushed inside.

Warm air surrounded me.

For one beautiful second, I closed my eyes.

Coffee.

Warmth.

Dry clothes.

Civilization.

Then my phone buzzed.

Mina: WHERE ARE YOU???

Me: Almost there.

Mina: Interview?

Me: Yes.

Mina: You’re lying.

Me: I’m literally on my way.

Mina: You’re going to die.

Me: Thank you for your support.

I put my phone away.

“Miss?”

I turned.

The barista held out my drink.

“Americano.”

“Thank you.”

I took the cup.

And someone walked directly in front of me.

I tried to stop.

My foot slipped.

My hand jerked.

The coffee flew.

The cup tipped.

Ice scattered.

Coffee splashed through the air.

And landed directly on the man’s white shirt.

Silence.

Complete silence.

I stared at the brown stain spreading across his chest.

Then slowly looked up.

And immediately wished I hadn’t.

He was beautiful.

Not handsome.

Beautiful.

His black hair fell slightly over his forehead, still damp from the rain. His features were sharp, his jaw defined, and his dark eyes were cold and unreadable.

He wore a black coat over a white dress shirt.

Or what had once been a white dress shirt.

Now it was decorated with my coffee.

His gaze moved from his shirt to me.

“Are you blind?”

I blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“I asked if you’re blind.”

“I said I’m sorry.”

“That doesn’t clean my shirt.”

“I know.”

“Then?”

My brain stopped functioning.

What did he expect me to do?

Perform surgery on the shirt?

“I can pay for the dry cleaning.”

His eyebrow lifted.

“Can you?”

He glanced at my old sneakers, cheap handbag, and worn notebook.

Something about his expression irritated me.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You clearly thought something.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

His lips tightened.

“You’re quite confident for someone who just ruined my shirt.”

“And you’re quite rude for someone blocking the entrance.”

He stared at me.

I stared back.

One second.

Two.

Three.

Then an assistant behind him cleared his throat.

“Sir. Your meeting.”

The man finally looked away.

“Move.”

I stepped aside.

He walked past, then stopped.

“What is your name?”

I frowned.

“Why?”

“So I know who to send the cleaning bill to.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Yoon Seo-ah.”

His expression changed.

Only for a second.

His eyes widened slightly, as if the name meant something.

Then his face became unreadable again.

“Yoon Seo-ah.”

The way he said my name made something twist inside my chest.

“Yes.”

He nodded and walked away.

At the café door, he stopped once more.

Our eyes met.

For one strange second, everything became quiet.

Then he left.

“What a jerk,” I muttered.

The barista approached nervously.

“Miss?”

“Yes?”

“Do you know who that was?”

“No.”

Her eyes widened.

“That was Kang Ji-hyun.”

“Okay.”

“You don’t know Kang Ji-hyun?”

“No.”

“He’s the youngest executive director of Haneul Group.”

I looked toward the door.

Haneul Group.

Hotels. Department stores. Technology. Finance. Real estate.

Everyone in Seoul knew the name.

I looked at my empty hand.

My interview was in fifteen minutes.

And apparently, I’d just poured coffee over one of the richest men in South Korea.

“Great.”

The barista gave me a sympathetic smile.

“Very.”

The first time I met Kang Ji-hyun, I spilled coffee on his shirt.

Not accidentally.

Well...

Maybe it was technically an accident.

But if you asked him, I was probably a criminal.

The rain had started before eight that morning. By nine, Seoul looked like someone had poured gray paint over the entire city.

People rushed beneath umbrellas, cars crawled through traffic, and cafés were packed with people escaping the weather.

I was one of them.

Unfortunately, I was also late.

Very late.

“Please don’t be late today.”

Those had been my roommate Mina’s exact words that morning.

I’d laughed.

“I’m never late.”

She’d stared at me.

“Seo-ah, you were late yesterday.”

“That was different.”

“And the day before.”

“Also different.”

“And last Monday.”

I’d grabbed my bag.

“Why are you keeping records of my failures?”

“Because someone needs to.”

I’d thrown a pillow at her before leaving.

Now, forty minutes later, I was running through the rain wondering why I’d ever claimed to be a responsible adult.

My umbrella had broken.

My shoes were soaked.

My hair was sticking to my face.

And my job interview started in exactly twenty-three minutes.

I checked my phone.

9:37 AM.

The company was fifteen minutes away if I could find a taxi.

Which I couldn’t.

“Of course.”

A taxi passed without stopping.

Another did the same.

Thunder rumbled above me.

“Really?”

I sighed.

Then I saw a café across the street.

I could at least buy a coffee and breathe.

That was my first mistake.

The second was ordering an iced Americano.

The third was walking while looking at my phone.

And the fourth...

Was crashing into him.

The café door swung open as I rushed inside.

Warm air surrounded me.

For one beautiful second, I closed my eyes.

Coffee.

Warmth.

Dry clothes.

Civilization.

Then my phone buzzed.

Mina: WHERE ARE YOU???

Me: Almost there.

Mina: Interview?

Me: Yes.

Mina: You’re lying.

Me: I’m literally on my way.

Mina: You’re going to die.

Me: Thank you for your support.

I put my phone away.

“Miss?”

I turned.

The barista held out my drink.

“Americano.”

“Thank you.”

I took the cup.

And someone walked directly in front of me.

I tried to stop.

My foot slipped.

My hand jerked.

The coffee flew.

The cup tipped.

Ice scattered.

Coffee splashed through the air.

And landed directly on the man’s white shirt.

Silence.

Complete silence.

I stared at the brown stain spreading across his chest.

Then slowly looked up.

And immediately wished I hadn’t.

He was beautiful.

Not handsome.

Beautiful.

His black hair fell slightly over his forehead, still damp from the rain. His features were sharp, his jaw defined, and his dark eyes were cold and unreadable.

He wore a black coat over a white dress shirt.

Or what had once been a white dress shirt.

Now it was decorated with my coffee.

His gaze moved from his shirt to me.

“Are you blind?”

I blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“I asked if you’re blind.”

“I said I’m sorry.”

“That doesn’t clean my shirt.”

“I know.”

“Then?”

My brain stopped functioning.

What did he expect me to do?

Perform surgery on the shirt?

“I can pay for the dry cleaning.”

His eyebrow lifted.

“Can you?”

He glanced at my old sneakers, cheap handbag, and worn notebook.

Something about his expression irritated me.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You clearly thought something.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

His lips tightened.

“You’re quite confident for someone who just ruined my shirt.”

“And you’re quite rude for someone blocking the entrance.”

He stared at me.

I stared back.

One second.

Two.

Three.

Then an assistant behind him cleared his throat.

“Sir. Your meeting.”

The man finally looked away.

“Move.”

I stepped aside.

He walked past, then stopped.

“What is your name?”

I frowned.

“Why?”

“So I know who to send the cleaning bill to.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Yoon Seo-ah.”

His expression changed.

Only for a second.

His eyes widened slightly, as if the name meant something.

Then his face became unreadable again.

“Yoon Seo-ah.”

The way he said my name made something twist inside my chest.

“Yes.”

He nodded and walked away.

At the café door, he stopped once more.

Our eyes met.

For one strange second, everything became quiet.

Then he left.

“What a jerk,” I muttered.

The barista approached nervously.

“Miss?”

“Yes?”

“Do you know who that was?”

“No.”

Her eyes widened.

“That was Kang Ji-hyun.”

“Okay.”

“You don’t know Kang Ji-hyun?”

“No.”

“He’s the youngest executive director of Haneul Group.”

I looked toward the door.

Haneul Group.

Hotels. Department stores. Technology. Finance. Real estate.

Everyone in Seoul knew the name.

I looked at my empty hand.

My interview was in fifteen minutes.

And apparently, I’d just poured coffee over one of the richest men in South Korea.

“Great.”

The barista gave me a sympathetic smile.

“Very.”

to be continued.....................