You’d done a lot in your career as Minho Lee’s secretary—rescheduling impossible meetings, defusing corporate tensions, even memorizing the way he liked his espresso down to the exact crema.

But you’d never babysat a five-year-old.

“Just until the meeting ends,” he’d said, handing over his little sister, Yumi with a calm you didn’t share. “She likes cartoons, and she’ll con you into candy. Don’t fall for it.”

An hour later, Yumi had somehow convinced you to braid her hair, watch two princess movies, and share your bag of gummy bears. Her laugh was infectious—bright and free, just like someone else’s you knew, though Minho rarely let it show in the office.

“Is my brother scary at work?” Yumi asked out of nowhere, her voice muffled through a mouthful of marshmallow puffs.

You paused. “No,” you said truthfully. “He’s... sharp. Just quiet.”

“He likes you,” she said bluntly, as if stating the weather.

You choked on your water.

Yumi didn’t flinch. “He talks about you a lot and, he told me he loves you so much."