Chapter 1
The grand ballroom glittered under a sea of crystal chandeliers. Soft classical music floated through the air as Seoul’s elite mingled in sleek gowns and tailored suits. The annual Medical Foundation Gala was the city’s most anticipated event—a night where doctors, donors, and dignitaries came together to celebrate healing, progress, and promises.
you are in an elegant black dress you barely recognized yourself in, stood near the edge of the room, nursing a glass of sparkling water. Gala nights weren’t your thing. You preferred the clean sterility of an operating room to whispered conversations about endowments and investments.
Yet here you were, a reluctant guest. Your mind felt uneased by the idea, hoping your phone would ring with news of a unit you would be needed in.
Your gaze drifted to the crowd. The faces of professors, department heads, hospital board members were familiar, however, none held your attention. You did not come to converse with anyone...
Until he stepped into the light.
Tall, composed, with a soft smile that somehow warmed the icy room.
Han Min.
The only man you did not know in this whole gala.
He moved with an effortless grace, offering a hand to a nervous donor, chatting quietly, but his eyes caught yours across the room. For a moment, the noise faded.
Your gazes locked with a curious spark that ignited. Who was this stranger?
Before you could think, he approached.
“May I?” he asked, gesturing to the empty space beside her.
You blinked, reluctantly agreed. “Sure.”
You bowed and stated your name, managing a polite smile.
“Ah, the trauma surgeon,” he said, eyes twinkling. “I’ve heard of you, a surgeon with 99% success rate, practically 100.”
Uncharacteristically, you felt a blush rise that you tried to suppress. Compliments were rare, and coming from this stranger, even rarer.
“Flattering, but I’m just doing my job.”
He nodded, as if understanding more than you let on. “Still, it takes more than skill to be where you are.”
“And you must be?”
Before he could continue, the conversation was interrupted by a sudden buzz—your phone vibrating insistently in your clutch.
You glanced down: countless missed calls. A voicemail notification blinked ominously.
“I am so sorry, I have to take this,” you murmured, pulling out your phone and seeking out a more private area.
The screen showed your mother’s name flashing repeatedly.
Han Min smiled and watched silently as you stepped away before introducing conversation with other guests.
