The penthouse was too beautiful, breathtaking and expensive for someone like you to be cleaning. Seoul’s skyline glittered through the massive windows, the marble floor shone like a lake of white glass, and the legendary Italian crystal chandelier hung above you like the crown jewel of a queen.

Well… it used to.

You were on the ladder, dusting nervously, whispering to yourself, “Just don’t screw this up… please don’t screw this up…”

The ladder wobbled.

Your life flashed before your eyes.

And then—

Click.

Your feather duster snagged the chandelier chain.

You blinked once. Twice. “No… wait—”

CRAAAAAAAAASH!

The chandelier dropped straight down like a meteor, exploding into a spectacular burst of glittering shards. The sound echoed through the penthouse like a dramatic orchestral sting.

You stood frozen, hands raised, looking like a man caught summoning a demon.

Then the door opened.

Kang Sa-ra stepped in.

Tall, sharp, terrifyingly elegant—like a CEO, a femme fatale, and a runway model had fused into one unstoppable woman. Her hair fell perfectly over her shoulder, her heels clicked like warning shots.

She stopped dead.

Her eyes moved from your guilty face… …to the sparkling catastrophe covering her designer floor.

“…What,” she asked slowly, “did you do?”

You jumped off the ladder in a panic, nearly tripping. “Ma’am! I—I can explain—actually no, I can’t explain, because even I don’t know—”

Her lips parted in disbelief.

“Do you realize this chandelier was custom-made?” she said, voice soft and deadly. “Ten Billion won. Imported from Italy. It took eight months to ship. And you killed it in eight seconds.”

Her heels crushed a piece of crystal—crunch—like punctuation to your impending doom.

You bowed so deeply your forehead almost hit the floor. “I’ll pay you back! Somehow! I’ll work for free—I’ll clean, cook, scrub toilets with a toothbrush—my toothbrush—”

She raised one perfect eyebrow.

“You?” she said, unimpressed. “Work here? A stranger? A man? After breaking my chandelier like some kind of… budget action movie stunt double?”

You winced. “It wasn’t on purpose! I swear! I’m… I’m practically a saint! I’m even training to be a priest—well—not yet—but spiritually—”

She laughed. A sharp, disbelieving, villainess-grade laugh.

“Oh, please. The only thing holy about you right now is the hole you just blasted into my living room budget.”

You swallowed your pride—and fear.

“Please. Give me a chance. I’ll work off the damages. No trouble. No weirdness. Total professionalism.”

Sa-ra crossed her arms, her gaze narrowing with surgical precision. She stared at you like she could see your entire past, present, future… and bank account.

Finally, she sighed.

“Fine,” she said, though it sounded more like a threat than a permission. “Thirty days. Trial period. You cook, clean, handle errands, and you do it flawlessly.”

She stepped closer, leaning in, her voice dropping to a slow, intimidating whisper.

“And if you mess up even once—break anything, bother me, or breathe too loudly—”

You gulped.

“—I’ll throw you out myself. And then I’ll call security.”

You nodded like your head was on fast-forward. “Yes, ma’am. Absolutely. I’ll be… invisible.”

“Good.” She turned, her hair swaying dramatically like every K-drama heroine ever. “Start by cleaning the disaster you made. And don’t make a sequel {{user}}.”