Mira was curled up on the couch with a book when her phone buzzed.
Soo-yeon: Guess who just landed at Heathrow?
Mira nearly dropped her phone.
Mira: No way.
Soo-yeon: Way. And I'm starving. Meet me at Monmouth Coffee in 2 hours. Don't bring the rich boy.
Mira laughed, her heart suddenly lighter than it had been in weeks.
---
Monmouth Coffee was bustling, the scent of freshly ground beans thick in the air. Soo-yeon sat at a corner table, already nursing a cappuccino, her sunglasses perched dramatically on her head despite the overcast sky.
Mira barely had time to sit before Soo-yeon shoved a latte at her. "Drink up. You look like you haven't seen sunlight in a month."
Mira grinned. "I haven't."
Soo-yeon leaned in, eyes gleaming. "Okay, details. All of them. Starting with—how the hell did you two end up in London?"
For the next hour, Mira spilled everything—the escape, the cabin, Jae's confession, their quiet life in the Notting Hill flat. Soo-yeon listened, alternating between gasps, dramatic eye rolls, and proud nods.
Then, her expression sobered. "Okay, now for my news."
Mira's stomach dropped. "What happened?"
Soo-yeon stirred her coffee absently. "Eun-ji reached out to me."
Mira's fingers tightened around her cup.
"Oh, she was very subtle," Soo-yeon drawled. "Just a casual 'I'm sure you're worried about your friend's reputation—maybe we can help each other.'" She mimed gagging. "As if I'd sell you out for whatever pathetic deal she was offering."
Mira's throat tightened. "You didn't have to—"
"Of course I didn't." Soo-yeon scoffed. "I told her if she came after you, she'd have to deal with me too. And unlike you, I don't fight fair."
Mira blinked rapidly, her vision blurring.
Soo-yeon gasped. "Oh no. No, no, no—don't you dare cry in this overpriced hipster café."
Mira laughed wetly, swiping at her eyes. "I just… I don't know what I did to deserve you."
Soo-yeon waved a hand. "Ugh, stop. It's not loyalty—it's self-preservation. Who else would listen to me complain about my terrible dates?"
They laughed.
---
They spent the rest of the day like old times—browsing vintage shops in Covent Garden, stuffing their faces with too-sweet pastries, and people-watching from a park bench while Soo-yeon dramatically critiqued London's fashion sense.
"Honestly," Soo-yeon said, gesturing at a passerby in a questionable trench coat, "I expected better."
Mira snorted. "You're insufferable."
"And you love me for it."
As the sun began to dip below the rooftops, Soo-yeon flagged down a cab. "Alright, let's get you back before Prince Charming sends out a search party."
Mira hesitated. "You're not staying?"
Soo-yeon softened. "Fashion Week starts tomorrow—I've got models to wrangle. But I'll be here all week. You're not getting rid of me that easily."
The cab pulled up to Jae's flat just as dusk settled over the city.
Jae was waiting at the door, his shoulders tense until he saw Mira's smile.
Soo-yeon stepped out of the cab behind her, arms crossed. "Alright, rich boy. Two things."
Jae arched a brow.
"One—if you hurt her, I will end you." She smirked. "Two—what's the plan? You can't hide forever."
Jae's gaze flicked to Mira, warm and steady. "We're not hiding. We're living."
Soo-yeon studied him for a long moment—then nodded. "Good."
She pulled Mira into a bone-crushing hug. "Call me tomorrow. And please convince him to buy you a better coat. This one is tragic."
Mira laughed as Soo-yeon climbed back into the cab, shouting one last insult about British weather before the door slammed shut.
Jae slid an arm around Mira's waist as the taillights disappeared down the street. "I like her."
Mira leaned into him. "Yeah. Me too."
---
The letter arrived on a quiet Tuesday morning, slipped under their front door in a thick, cream-colored envelope.
Mira nearly stepped on it as she padded into the kitchen, still groggy from sleep. She picked it up, turning it over in her hands. No return address—just Jae's name written in elegant, familiar script.
Hae-soo Park's handwriting.
Mira's breath caught. She carried it to the bedroom, where Jae was half-awake, his hair tousled from sleep.
"Jae," she murmured, holding it out to him. "It's from your mother."
His eyes snapped open.
Jae sat on the edge of the bed, the letter unfolded in his hands. Mira watched as his expression shifted—first surprise, then disbelief, then something unreadable.
Finally, he handed it to her. "Read it."
Mira took the letter, her fingers trembling slightly.
My dearest Jae,
I hope this letter finds you well—though I know you must resent me for not reaching out sooner. The truth is, I didn't know what to say. Watching you walk away was the hardest moment of my life, but also, perhaps, the moment I understood you the most.
Your father is stubborn, but even he is not immune to regret. The company is in chaos. Eun-ji has made her move—she's convinced the board to freeze your assets, cut off your access to family holdings, and worse, she's begun spreading rumors that you abandoned your responsibilities for selfish reasons. But I know the truth. You didn't leave for yourself. You left for her.
And that is why I'm writing.
I have a proposal—one that will protect both of you, and perhaps, in time, mend what's been broken.
Come home.
But not as the heir. Come as yourself. Start your own company—one separate from Park Group, one built on your own terms. Your father will fight it, but I will stand by you. And when the time is right, we will force him to see reason.
There's more. Mira should apply for the executive position at LUXE International. The CEO is an old friend of mine, and the role would give her the independence she needs—far from Eun-ji's reach.
This isn't surrender, Jae. It's strategy.
I miss you. More than words can say.
—Mother
Mira lowered the letter, her pulse racing. "She wants us to come back?"
Jae ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "Not just come back. Fight."
Mira stared at the letter again. "LUXE International? That's—that's one of the biggest fashion conglomerates in Asia."
Jae's lips quirked. "Mother always did have impeccable connections."
Mira's mind spun. "But your father—"
"Will lose his mind," Jae finished. "Which is exactly why she suggested it."
There was a glint in his eye—something fierce, something alive.
Mira swallowed. "Are you considering it?"
Jae took the letter from her, his fingers brushing hers. "I'm considering us." He met her gaze. "What do you want?"
Mira hesitated. A part of her longed for the safety of London, for their quiet life away from the storm. But another part—the part that had fought so hard to build her career, the part that refused to let Eun-ji win—ached to stand her ground.
"I want," she said slowly, "to not run anymore."
Jae's smile was sharp, dangerous. "Then let's go home."