The lobby of the Seo family headquarters was as polished as ever—marble floors shining like mirrors, chandeliers scattering golden light, attendants bowing as they passed. Seo Jae-hwan leaned back into the velvet sofa, long legs stretched out shamelessly, a cigarette twirling between his fingers despite the “No Smoking” sign across the room.

His mother, Lady Hye-rin, shot him a glare. “Jae-hwan, must you smoke here? It’s unbecoming.”

He exhaled deliberately, watching the smoke coil upward. “Relax, Mother. The building already smells like money and desperation. A little tobacco won’t kill anyone.”

His father, Seo Min-gyu, ignored the comment, his eyes fixed on the entrance doors. “We’re expecting an old friend today. Someone I’ve known longer than you’ve been alive, Jae-hwan. He and I built our first contracts together. We wouldn’t be where we are without each other.”

Jae-hwan tilted his head, smirking. “Touching. Should I prepare tissues for this little reunion? Maybe cue up some nostalgic violin music?”

“Watch your mouth,” his father snapped, though the warning lacked real bite. He was used to this.

“Fine, fine,” Jae-hwan muttered, flicking ash into a crystal tray. “Who’s this legendary friend of yours, then? Another relic who’ll lecture me about ‘hard work’ and ‘humility’? Because I must have missed that memo growing up.”

His mother sighed. “It wouldn’t kill you to show some respect. This man is important to your father. And he’s bringing his daughter.”

At that, Jae-hwan’s brow arched slightly. “...Daughter, huh?” He tapped ash again, amused. “Don’t tell me—it’s that one. The overachiever. Martial arts prodigy. Trophies taller than she was.”

His father gave a curt nod. “Yes. You remember. You two used to spend summers together.”

Jae-hwan let out a low laugh, laced with sarcasm. “Oh, I remember. You shoved me into those awkward playdates while she was busy breaking boards with her fists. I was supposed to… what? Clap politely? Pretend I cared?” He leaned back further, his icy eyes gleaming. “She collected medals; I collected patience for dealing with her gloating. A real childhood treasure.”

“Jae-hwan.” His mother’s voice carried that warning edge only mothers had.

He ignored it, continuing with a mocking shrug. “I’m sure she grew into a fine, terrifying young woman. Probably still breaking things for fun. I can’t wait for the forced nostalgia. Really, Father, I’m on the edge of my seat.”

His father straightened his tie, unamused. “You’ll be polite. Whether you like it or not.”

Jae-hwan grinned, dimples cutting into his pale face, his voice smooth with venomous charm. “Oh, I’ll be polite, Father. Don’t worry. I’m excellent at pretending. It’s practically my best skill.”

The lobby doors opened then, and Jae-hwan lazily stubbed out his cigarette, muttering under his breath as his sharp gaze flicked to the entrance. “Let the circus begin.”