Chapter 15: The Accident
Seo-Ah
The click of the door echoed behind her as she walked out, but her heart was still in that room.
You were just being human.
She hadn't planned to say that. The words had slipped out, honest and unfiltered. But the look on his face—it wasn't anger or contempt. It was something else. Something fragile.
She stepped into the elevator, pressing the button with more force than necessary. Her mind was a hurricane of thoughts.
Min-Jun Lee—the cold, composed CEO who never faltered—had looked… lost last night. And now, this morning, he hadn't shut her out.
He'd let her in, even if only a crack.
As the elevator descended, Seo-Ah exhaled slowly, trying to ground herself. She needed to focus. She had work to do, reports to finish, and a professional reputation to maintain. But that moment—that look—had lodged itself inside her chest like a splinter.
And deep down, she knew this was only the beginning.
---
Min-Jun
The door shut, leaving him alone in the silence of the room.
He stood still for a while, staring at nothing.
You don't have to keep pretending with me.
He could still hear her voice.
Min-Jun dragged a hand through his hair and turned back to the window. The city was waking up—fast, loud, alive. But inside, he felt anything but steady.
Why did it matter that she'd seen through him? Why had he opened up, even slightly? He hadn't meant to. He never did.
Yet Seo-Ah had said it without pity, without mockery. As if she understood something others never tried to.
He didn't want to admit it, but a part of him needed that understanding. Just not from someone who made his heart beat a little faster every time she walked into the room.
And then there was Ji-Hyun—his father's "perfect" match, who would likely be visiting the company again soon. Another layer of pressure he didn't ask for.
Min-Jun turned back to the table, his hands curling slightly at the edge.
No. He wouldn't run from this.
But he also couldn't let Seo-Ah get too close.
Not yet.
Ji-Hyun's Arrival
The lobby of Lee Financial Corporation had never felt so polished, so scrutinized.
Ji-Hyun stepped in like she owned the floor, her heels tapping with precision, her white fitted blazer hugging her figure, elegance radiating from every movement. Employees paused subtly to glance her way—part out of curiosity, part out of awe. The staff had been given notice that the daughter of the mayor, Ji-Hyun Choi, would be making a formal courtesy visit.
It was, as everyone knew, another one of Chairman Lee's moves.
"Director Min-Jun is in a meeting," the secretary explained, keeping her tone neutral.
"That's fine," Ji-Hyun replied with a gracious smile. "I'm not here to interrupt. Just observing. Learning."
But she didn't head for a tour.
She turned directly toward the executive floor.
---
Seo-Ah
Seo-Ah hadn't expected her to show up so soon, and definitely not like this. She watched Ji-Hyun's polished figure disappear into the hallway, tension slowly threading through her spine.
The night before was still fresh—Min-Jun's rawness, his exhaustion, his moment of vulnerability. She'd barely managed to sleep, thoughts tugging at her.
And now, here was Ji-Hyun. Regal, perfect, probably everything Chairman Lee ever wanted in a daughter-in-law.
"Seo-Ah," Manager Park called gently from the doorway. "You might want to follow. Director Lee asked earlier for you to help prepare the quarterly results briefing."
Of course.
She gathered her tablet, smoothed down her skirt, and moved quickly toward the elevator, heart thudding louder than she cared to admit.
---
Min-Jun
The day had barely begun and already Min-Jun was fatigued.
The meeting had dragged longer than planned, and he hadn't even had coffee. His phone buzzed constantly—texts from his father, messages from board members, and a new one from an unknown number that was probably Ji-Hyun herself.
He stepped out of the elevator into the executive wing and stopped dead.
She was standing near his office, talking to his secretary.
Ji-Hyun turned, smiling. "There you are. You've been hiding."
He sighed silently.
"Not hiding," he replied coolly. "Working."
"Then let me make it worth the interruption," she said with a sparkle in her eye. "I brought coffee. Just how you like it."
He glanced at the two cups. "I don't take sugar anymore."
Ji-Hyun pouted faintly. "Then I'll remember next time."
Min-Jun didn't respond, his attention already moving to Seo-Ah, who had just turned the corner with a tablet in her arms, her eyes locked briefly with his before shifting away.
---
Hours passed. Min-Jun escaped the encounter with Ji-Hyun as diplomatically as possible. The quarterly briefing was next, and he needed a break from everything.
He told his driver he'd walk to the restaurant for his lunch appointment. The streets were unusually busy for midday, and he wanted air. He needed a moment where no one was expecting anything from him.
Crossing the street, his phone buzzed again.
He glanced down—
And didn't see the delivery scooter veering past the red light.
The impact wasn't heavy, but it was fast.
The side of the scooter clipped his shoulder and sent him sprawling to the pavement, his head hitting the edge of the sidewalk with a dull crack. There was shouting, someone yelling at the rider, a horn blaring in the distance.
Then—darkness.
---
Seo-Ah
"Seo-Ah, you need to go. Now!"
Manager Park's voice was unusually urgent. "Director Lee—he's been taken to the hospital. Hit by a scooter near Gangnam Road. It's not life-threatening, but he's unconscious."
The words stunned her. She didn't wait for more.
She was already grabbing her bag, moving without thinking. The world felt like it had tilted off balance. Her legs carried her faster than she realized as she pushed through the doors of the hospital a short while later.
"He's still unconscious," a nurse said. "Mild concussion. Nothing fractured. But he's disoriented when he wakes, so we're keeping him for observation."
Seo-Ah walked into the room—and froze.
He was lying there, so still. A gauze on his forehead, his arm in a sling, tubes snaking from his wrist to the monitor beside him.
This wasn't the Min-Jun she knew. This wasn't the powerful, cold CEO. This was a man—wounded, exhausted, human.
She took the seat beside him and held his hand gently, just for a moment.
"You'll be okay," she whispered.
He stirred.
Eyes flickered open, dazed and unfocused. But he turned toward her.
"…Seo-Ah?"
She nodded, leaning forward.
He swallowed, voice rough. "You came."
Her chest tightened. "Of course I did."
---
Hours Later
Ji-Hyun appeared just as Seo-Ah was helping adjust Min-Jun's pillow.
"Am I interrupting?" she said lightly.
Seo-Ah stood. "He's resting."
"I'm sure he is," Ji-Hyun replied, her gaze lingering on the small space between the two of them.
Min-Jun opened his eyes again, gaze sharpening as he saw Ji-Hyun. "You didn't have to come."
She smiled tightly. "Of course I did."
Seo-Ah stepped back, offering to get water from the nurse. But Min-Jun's hand reached for her wrist.
"Stay," he said, voice low.
Ji-Hyun's expression flickered.
Seo-Ah froze—but nodded slowly and sat back down.
For the first time, she realized: the cold stars she saw in him… they were flickering with light.