Mr. Daeyun clicked his tongue. “I see why the public is making noise.”

His wife stirred her tea but said nothing.

“I expected worse,” she finally murmured.

“I expected nothing,” said another voice, colder and more clipped.

Reian’s older brother, Damien, stood near the large glass window, arms crossed. His wife, Camilla, perched on the armrest beside him, nails tapping against her phone.

“Let the public be dazzled,” Camilla said. “But we should be realistic. This foreigner knew what she was doing.”

“Smiled once and gained a country,” Damien muttered. “Tell me that’s accidental.”

Mrs. Daeyun gave a sharp look. “She’s his wife. Whether we acknowledge her or not—”

“She’s not family,” Damien cut in. “She’s a name on paper and a face in a photo.”

“And yet,” Camilla added, “Reian looked like a man content. That’s the danger.”

Mr. Daeyun sighed, folding the newspaper beside him. “We’ll watch. And wait.”

---

Back at the villa, the quiet buzz of post-shoot tension lingered.

Reian and Soraya were returning from a short walk on the garden path when the villa’s manager waved them down.

“Sorry to bother you,” he said with a nervous bow. “There’s someone here to meet you. From Vireon Entertainment.”

Reian's jaw tightened. He gave a curt nod. As they walked toward the lounge, he leaned in and said quietly to Soraya, “If he’s from the company, don’t say anything personal. They’ll pretend to smile while memorizing everything.”

Reian’s eyes narrowed. “Here?”

The manager nodded. “He said it’s urgent. Regarding recent press calls.”

Soraya followed Reian into the guest lounge, where a lean man in a pale gray blazer stood browsing his tablet. He looked up with a practiced smile.

“Reian.” He turned to Soraya. “And the wife that broke the internet. We finally meet.”

She offered a nod. “Pleasure.”

“I’m Kwon Jisoo, brand liaison at Vireon.” He motioned toward the couch. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to breathe down your necks. Quite the opposite. We’ve had inquiries—partnerships, covers, endorsements.”

Soraya didn’t react. She kept her eyes on him, quiet and unreadable.

Jisoo cleared his throat. “We’ll send the requests through your management channels. Since Mrs. Daeyun isn’t signed under us, we’ll need to verify how she wants to handle—”

“I’ll take care of it,” Reian said.

Jisoo smiled again, a touch thinner. “Of course.”

He stood. “I look forward to working with both of you.”

As the door closed behind him, Soraya turned slightly.

“He didn’t ask questions. But every word was a fishing line. He was definitely digging.”

Reian exhaled. “That’s his job.”

---

Later that night, the villa was quiet again.

Soraya sat cross-legged on the bed, hair damp from a shower, thumbing through her phone. She didn’t look up when she spoke.

“Is it always like this?”

Reian looked up from his laptop. “Like what?”

“Industry people smiling with one hand and counting with the other.”

He closed the laptop. “Worse, sometimes.”

She nodded. “Is that why you warned me not to sign anything?”

He paused. “Yes.”

A beat passed.

“You don’t trust them.”

“I’ve learned to trust systems only when I build them myself.”

She tilted her head. “You’re building one?”

He hesitated. Then nodded. “My own agency. It’s already set up. Silent, for now.”

“You’re planning to leave Vireon?”

“When the contract ends. One more year.”

“Will the band follow?”

“I won’t ask them to. ONIX is still a team. Group work stays under Vireon. I’m not here to break what we built—just to have freedom when I fly solo.”

She studied him for a moment. “Sounds like you’re building more than an agency.”

He looked at her. “Maybe. Maybe I’m building breathing room. For once.”

There was a silence—soft, heavy, understanding.

Then she said, “You’re not what I expected.”

“You neither.”

The lights dimmed as the evening stretched, two strangers quietly forming the earliest layers of trust.

And for the first time since they signed their names, Soraya didn’t feel like she was pretending.

Not entirely.