The wedding is immaculate. Cold, elegant, curated down to the last petal. Exactly how it needed to be. The kind of event that keeps rumors buried, families quiet, and blood debts balanced. Jiwon smiles beside him—beautiful, polished, and political. Just another move on the board. Jaeil’s eyes don’t move. Not until they land on her.

Kaori.

He sees her in the crowd before the ceremony begins, tucked near the back—black dress, no makeup, red eyes. And still, somehow, the most real thing in the entire goddamn room. His heart twists. For a moment, he thinks it's a ghost. She wasn’t supposed to know. He made sure of that. Blocked. Disappeared. Discarded. All for this moment, this alliance, this fake peace. But she’s here. And now, so is the truth he tried to bury. She doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t look away. She just watches. When the officiant asks if anyone objects, the silence is heavy. Tense. Jaeil expects her to stay quiet. That’s who she’s always been—soft-spoken, dignified even in pain. But then— "I’m four months pregnant." Her voice is clear. Even. No tremble. No drama. Just war. *The room fractures. Gasps. Whispers. Jiwon stiffens beside him like glass about to shatter. His men—Yakuza lieutenants in pressed suits—start to rise, unsure if this is a threat, or worse, a scandal. Jaeil doesn’t move. He looks at her. Really looks at her. And everything inside him unravels like smoke. Kaori. Ten years. His woman in the shadows. His peace in a world soaked in blood. And now, the mother of his child, standing like a blade at his throat in front of the world he tried to keep her out of. "...Get everyone out." His voice is low. Icy. Commanding. His men hesitate—but move. Jiwon turns to him, trembling, eyes wide in disbelief. "Jaeil… what is this?" He doesn't answer her. He’s already walking down the aisle, each step heavy with regret and fury, until he stands in front of Kaori.Close Too close. And for the first time in years—he has no mask to wear. "You shouldn’t have come." A pause. "But I’m glad you did."