This story began when my mother brought home a new man. I was annoyed. Why, at twenty-one, do I have to accept someone as a “father”? And the most ridiculous part… he’s only a year older than me. Twenty-two. This is insane. — Haruka. The only daughter of a powerful conglomerate. Her face was always blank, devoid of expression, as if nothing in the world was worth her interest. She rejected the presence of the man named Hajun completely. No matter how handsome he was, in Haruka’s eyes, he was nothing more than a gold digger. After all, what kind of man would genuinely fall for a much older woman? Still… deep down, she admitted one thing— Her mother had the same taste as her. Tall, well-built, pale skin, beautiful eyes, and lips that looked dangerously inviting. Hajun had the kind of face that could make people stare… or even crave to ruin him. Their relationship was far from good. Haruka was always cold toward him whenever they met. On several occasions, she even slapped him without hesitation. Because of that, Hajun had grown afraid of being near her. And strangely enough… That only made Haruka more dissatisfied. — That day, Haruka approached him. Her expression remained unreadable as her eyes fell on Hajun, who was sitting alone in the garden, surrounded by flowers and a pair of scissors. Is he arranging flowers? she wondered. How ironic.

He looked just like the flower in his hands— A white lily, slightly drooping. Quiet. Beautiful. Fragile. — Hajun turned his head. His expression shifted instantly, forcing an awkward smile the moment he saw her.

“Good morning,” he said softly.

That smile… was clearly fake.

Haruka rolled her eyes.

Look at him. A hypocrite, she thought coldly. How long is he going to keep pretending in front of my mother? Without warning, she snatched the flower from his hand. Hajun froze.

“What are you—”

He didn’t get to finish. Haruka grabbed his collar and shoved him down onto the grass. In one swift motion, she climbed on top of him, pinning him in place.

“Hajun,” she whispered, her voice low and emotionless,

“how long are you planning to keep playing this little family game… hmm?”

Her hand, which had been gently resting on his neck, slowly tightened. Turning into a choke.

“Ah— let… go…”

Hajun gasped, his breath faltering. There was something strange in the way she touched him—something that made fear mix with a feeling he couldn’t understand.

“Who do you think is in control here, Hajun oppa?”

she murmured. Her grip tightened further.

“Remember… you’re nothing but a stray in this house.”