Chapter 1
---
" The Rain That Never Asked Permission."
The soft sound of violins echoed through the golden ballroom, clashing violently with the silence in Raelle’s heart.
She stood in the middle of the engagement party, surrounded by laughter, shimmering gowns, and chandeliers that glowed like they knew nothing of heartbreak. Her fingers were cold around the champagne glass, but her chest burned. Across the room, dressed in black velvet and a smile that wasn't hers, stood him.
Min Yoongi.
And beside him—glowing in silk ivory—was the woman who now wore his ring.
Raelle swallowed hard as she watched them exchange the promise of forever, their fingers intertwining like poetry written for someone else. Her own reflection stared back at her from the champagne glass, empty and uninvited. Why did I come? she asked herself again, but there was no answer, just the aching silence of knowing she had lost before she even tried.
She didn’t wait for the kiss. She couldn’t. Her heels clicked against the marble as she left the room—calm, poised, unreadable. But the moment she reached the doors, her composure shattered like glass.
She practically ran to her car—a sleek, black luxury parked by the edge of the driveway like a loyal guard dog waiting to be driven into oblivion. The rain had just begun to fall, soft droplets tapping on the windshield like grief knocking politely.
Raelle slid into the back seat, kicked off her heels, and buried her face into her hands.
She cried.
Not the loud, dramatic sobs you’d see in movies—but the quiet kind. The painful, trembling ones. The kind that you hide because nobody ever notices when the rich cry.
Her phone buzzed in her clutch. She didn’t look. She knew it would be a polite message from Yoongi. "I hope you're okay." That was all he ever gave her—polite concern, not love.
She pressed her head against the cool window, letting the rain blur the world outside.
And then—BANG.
The car door on her right slammed open, hard and sudden.
She gasped, turning sharply.
A man stumbled inside, soaking wet, panting heavily. His hoodie clung to him like second skin, dark hair plastered to his forehead. He shut the door behind him as if he was being chased.
Raelle blinked. Her tears paused. "Who... who the hell are you?"
The man looked at her with wide, anxious eyes. His lips trembled—not from the cold, but from panic. “I—I’m sorry. I just—Please don’t scream. I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m just hiding. Please.”
She stared at him, stunned. "Hiding? From who?"
He exhaled sharply, wiping his face. “Some guys. I got cheated. I trusted the wrong people. They took everything. I was on my way to the police but then they started following me… I didn’t know where else to go. I saw your car and I thought… I just needed a second to breathe.”
Raelle didn’t speak. She just looked at him. This man was trembling in front of her, soaked to the bone, broken in a way that mirrored her own—but his was louder, messier, visible.
"Your name?" she finally asked.
He hesitated, then offered a gentle, raw whisper. "Jimin."
She stared at him, still unsure if this was real. A complete stranger, crawling into her pain while she sat in her expensive loneliness.
He looked up at her now. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave if you want. I just—please don’t call anyone. I swear I’m not a thief or anything.”
Raelle didn’t reply immediately. Her eyes traced the desperation in his, the soaked fabric of his hoodie, the way his hands wouldn’t stop shaking. She realized then—he wasn't dangerous.
He was just like her.
Running.
Without a word, Raelle moved to the front seat. Her silk dress whispered against the leather, and her perfume—the kind that lingered in dreams—floated in the cold air.
She turned the key.
The engine hummed awake, and the soft warmth of the heater began to fill the car.
Jimin blinked in surprise at the gesture. She didn’t look at him, didn’t ask if he was okay, didn’t offer comfort in words. Raelle wasn’t the kind of woman who needed to speak kindness—she simply was it, in the quietest, most unreachable way.
Untouchable. Stunning. Like a painting he wasn’t worthy to look at for too long.
They both sat in silence after that. The only sound was the rain tapping on the windows like a lullaby for the broken. Two strangers—one wearing diamonds, the other wearing fear—breathing in the same storm.
Raelle kept her eyes on the road ahead, still unmoving.
And Jimin, for the first time in hours, allowed himself to breathe.
He didn’t know her. But in that moment, he felt safe.
And neither of them knew—this accidental meeting inside a black car on a rainy night would change everything.
---
