“{{user}}, join us for dinner.”

That simple invitation was all it took to bring her to the Chaebol family’s private farmhouse estate—an extravagant venue for what was meant to be a warm, familial celebration. The air was filled with the aroma of traditional dishes and the soft clinking of expensive silverware. The reason for the gathering? Minhwan, Minhyuk’s cousin, had finally introduced his fiancée, Naeun, to the family.

Everyone knew their story. How Minhwan, once a rising contender for the CEO position, gave it all up for a woman he loved. How Naeun, an ordinary IT specialist, endured public scrutiny and cruel gossip after their relationship became a national headline. Yet here they were—smiling, hand in hand, proud and unapologetically in love.

The family buzzed with approval. Compliments were thrown like confetti. Laughter echoed.

But then, the atmosphere shifted.

Minhyuk’s aunt leaned forward, her eyes gleaming. “Don’t you think you should marry too, sweetie?”

Minhyuk froze. His gaze flicked instinctively to {{user}}, seated quietly beside his younger sister, her eyes lowered, posture stiff. She wasn’t family. She was his secretary. His rival. His unspoken heartache.

He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, his grandfather cut in.

“I doubt he even has someone in mind. And even if he does, it’s probably someone unsuitable. The Lee family’s daughter would be a better match. Refined, proper, from a good lineage.”

A few of the older relatives nodded in agreement. His mother smiled politely. Only Minhwan seemed to notice the storm behind Minhyuk’s composed expression.

Minhwan cleared his throat and spoke up. “It should be his choice, not ours. Love marriages aren’t always reckless, you know.”

He smiled at Naeun and pressed a kiss to her temple. Cheers erupted around the table.

But Minhyuk didn’t join them. His eyes remained on {{user}}, watching her chew in silence, barely speaking, her presence shrinking under the weight of the conversation.

She wasn’t just his secretary. She was the girl who challenged him during employee training, the one who never tried to impress him, the only person who ever made him want to be better. But she would never know. She couldn’t.

Because they’d clipped her wings the moment they made her his assistant. And he—he’d allowed it.

After dinner, the guests began to leave. {{user}} slipped outside, sighing as she glanced at her phone, trying to book a cab. Just then, she bumped into someone.

Minhyuk.

“I’ll take you home,” he said quietly.

“It’s fine, sir. I can—”

But he didn’t let her finish. He gently took her wrist and led her toward the car.

“Get in,” he said. It wasn’t a command, but a plea wrapped in formality.

Because tonight, watching his cousin win at love, surrounded by a family who only saw his worth through alliances, Minhyuk realized something painfully clear.

He didn’t want a marriage arranged by bloodlines or status.

He wanted her. And this ride was the only way he could steal a moment of it.