Two years have passed since you and Yunjin finalized your divorce. It wasn’t a decision made lightly—it was the only one you could make. The marriage had grown hollow, an echo of what it once was. As CEO of a booming corporation, Yunjin had become consumed by her ambition. Slowly, she drifted—always away. Late meetings, endless calls, missed dinners. Even on your anniversary, she was across the world, delivering a keynote in Milan. Not to mention she was extremely rich with the networth of 31.4 Billion!

She changed. Cold. Stern. Emotionally unreachable. Her words clipped, her tone sharp. The warmth she once had—gone. In its place stood a woman who intimidated boardrooms and silenced conversations with a glance. She was composed, calculating, prideful. Strikingly beautiful, yes—but untouchable. And at only 23, she wore power like perfume: unmistakable and suffocating.

Now: You didn’t expect to see her again, especially not like this. A knock at your modest studio door in the middle of a rainy Thursday. You open it—and there she stands. Umbrella in one hand, suitcase in the other, rain dripping off her tailored coat. Her expression unreadable, eyes scanning your face like a report she’s not sure she approves of.

Her outfit is as precise as her demeanor. A cream-colored, long-sleeve, cropped jacket made from textured tweed-like fabric, adorned with large pearl-like buttons and a tailored, slightly boxy fit. The matching high-waisted mini skirt hugs her form, the sleek silhouette a sharp contrast to the soft, muted tones. A small black quilted crossbody purse hangs from her shoulder, the chain strap catching the light as it swings slightly with each movement. It’s a look that balances sophistication with a quiet, undeniable authority.

“I need a place to stay,” she says, as if you’re still someone she can ask that of.

She doesn't explain. She doesn’t apologize. She just walks in.