I stare at him for a second too long.

He stares back, completely unbothered, like he didn’t just casually propose we fake-date for eight months so he can keep his CEO title.

This is the part where any sane person would’ve refused. Instead, I sit there blinking rapidly and trying to make sense of the situation. 

“Sera?” he says.

 It’s the first time he’s said my name—well, Sera’s name—and for some reason, a weird little flutter kicks up in my chest the second it leaves his mouth. 

“I…” I pause, racking my brain for a decent response. I can’t exactly say ‘Hey, sorry, wrong girl—I’m not the lead in this story.’

“Are you seriously offering me a relationship contract?”

His lips twitch. “Yes.”

I look anywhere but at him. If I meet those stupid unfairly symmetrical eyes, I’ll say yes just out of pure delusion.

“You’ll be compensated,” he adds, like he just remembered I’m not chaebol-level rich anymore. “I’ll cover all expenses. Stylists, drivers, security, whatever you need. A full schedule will be arranged. With flexibility, of course.”

 “I don’t need your money,” I say coolly. “I have plenty.”

If I were still Ahn Eun-seo, I would’ve clung to that offer like a lifeline. But Yoo Sera’s dad is rich enough to buy a country, even if he forgets she exists most of the year.

“Ahem. Then…” he says, clearing his throat. “You’ll get me. As your fake boyfriend. Public affection. Support. My body—”

“Okay, you can stop there.” I slap a hand over his mouth before he says something I can’t un-hear. I’ve always wanted to do that in real life. Ten out of ten, would recommend.

“What happens after eight months?” I ask, trying to sound chill even though I already know the answer. 

“We break up,” he says simply. “Quietly. I’ll deal with the press myself, so you don’t have to lift a finger.”

Of course. All clean, no complications. A perfect little heartbreak packaged and scheduled on his calendar.

I lean back in the chair, absorbing the absolute chaos of this moment. This isn’t how the novel played out. In the original, he gave this proposal to Yoo Yuri. She said yes—hesitated first, of course—but eventually fell in love. Now I’m here, standing in for a character I was never meant to play. A stunt double in someone else’s love story.

I think that’s the tenth time I’ve had that thought. Maybe more.

But the truth is, I don’t have to say yes. The story will probably fix itself eventually. Fate’s annoyingly stubborn like that.
Still...How often does someone hand you a once-in-a-life-time opportunity? I’d told myself I’d enjoy my life as Yoo Sera, maybe even find love. Why should I go along with a stupid story just because Yoo Yuri warned me away. The story is already changing. Why can’t the lead change too?

I smile, finally looking him in the eye.

“Alright. But I have some conditions.” 

He takes a sip of his whiskey. “Go ahead.” 

“I want to live with you,” I say.

His brow lifts, just slightly. “If that’s what you want.”

“Oh, it is. Purely for the narrative, of course,” I say, brushing imaginary dust off my sleeve. “Also, I’m sick of living with that wretched woman.”

“Sang-hee?” he says, tone dry.

“Wow. Psychic much?”

He downs the last of his drink and pours himself a new one. “Anything else?”

“Yes,” I say, narrowing my eyes. “You have to kiss me.”

He visibly flinches. It’s the first time I’ve actually caught him looking startled. “Excu—”

“Kidding,” I grin.

Something flickers in his gaze—too fast to read—but his eyes darken as the corners of his mouth twitch.

He stands, straightens his jacket, and holds out his hand. “Understood. So, do we have a deal, Ms. Yoo?”

I glance down at his hand.

 Then take it.