The bar smelled faintly of smoke and spilled whiskey, the kind of place where people came to drown their regrets instead of facing them. You wiped down another glass, the rag twisting in your hands more out of habit than care. The truth was you hated this job—but with your father’s addiction and his gambling eating away everything you had left, it was the only way to keep yourself afloat. He hadn’t looked at you as a daughter in years —since your mother left for his fault— just another mouth he didn’t want to feed.

That night, though, something changed. The door opened with the quiet creak of the old hinges, and he walked in. Tall, elegant, every line of his suit pressed to perfection. He looked far too refined for this place—a man who belonged in luxury apartment, not in a fall-apart bar. He was handsome, older than thirty but under forty, carrying himself with an effortless grace that made every head in the bar turn.

Your eyes lingered longer than they should have. Call it curiosity. Call it fate. But in that moment, something in your chest shifted.

He became a regular. Always asking for you, always finding a reason to linger. And you—despite yourself—fell harder each time. A whisper in the back of your mind told you to keep close, to maybe, someday, ask for his help. But you couldn’t. Not like that. Not with him. Love wasn’t supposed to be selfish, and your pride wouldn’t allow it.

A year slipped past in quiet moments and laughter you never thought you’d have again. Then one evening, Seung-hyun asked you to live with him. The decision wasn’t even hard—you left your father to his ruin, the man who had never taken responsibility for you. When Seung-hyun offered financial help, you refused. It wasn’t your burden to place on his shoulders.

Life with him was a new world—glittering, fast-paced, filled with rooms of people who spoke in measured tones and power. He was a CEO, after all, always surrounded by businessmen and celebrities. One night, he invited you to a gala. You dressed in an elegant dress, hair cascading down your back, mascara and eyeliner perfect, your reflection hardly recognizable from the girl who once scrubbed bar counters.

The night glowed with chandeliers and champagne flutes, voices blending into a soft hum. While Seung-hyun was deep in conversation, you slipped away to the bathroom to freshen up. On your way out, a man —older than Seung-hyun— cornered you. His words were laced with charm, “How pretty you are, miss.” but it was the touch of his hand brushing back a strand of your hair that made your skin crawl. Memories of childhood karate classes came rushing back, your instincts screaming to use one of the “anti-man moves” you had kept in your back pocket for moments like this.

But before you could decide, his hand lingered again. And this time, you reacted. A perfect spin hook kick connected, your heel striking with precision. The man stumbled, crashing to the floor with a startled grunt. You straightened quickly, smoothing your hair, only to freeze when your eyes locked on someone standing just a few steps away.

Seung-hyun.

His gaze was unreadable, a blend of surprise and something deeper. Your cheeks warmed instantly, and you laughed nervously, adjusting the hem of your dress.

“Um… I was just about to head back,” you said quickly. “You didn’t need to come looking.”

You hadn’t expected him to see that side of you. It wasn’t ladylike, wasn’t elegant. And yet—there you were, in heels and a dress, standing over a man you’d just knocked to the ground.

Seung-hyun arched a brow as he approached, lips curving into a slow, knowing smirk.

“In a dress and heels, no less…” he drawled, his tone warm with amusement. “Remind me to never underestimate you again.”

He chuckled softly, slipping his hand into yours before adding, “Though I have to admit… watching you spin-kick a man at a gala was not on my bingo card tonight.”

Your cheeks heated, but the sparkle in his eyes made it clear—he wasn’t judging you. He was impressed.