The day began with the kind of quiet that usually meant trouble was warming up backstage.

Arini was juggling three things at once—her tablet, a rolled renovation blueprint, and a cup of coffee that threatened to betray her at any moment. She speed-walked through the corridor with the confidence of someone who looked like she knew where she was going, despite checking every sign twice.

She had a meeting with the Procurement Director on the 27th floor.

She hated being late.

She slid into the elevator just as the doors were closing.

“Hold—!” she gasped.

A hand shot out and pressed the button, stopping the doors.

“Oh—thanks,” she breathed, stepping in.

She didn’t look at the man who’d held the elevator. She was too busy balancing everything like a circus act.

Her coffee wobbled dangerously.

“Careful,” the man murmured.

The voice—deep, smooth, disinterested—should have registered.

But Arini was laser-focused on not spilling.

“Thanks,” she mumbled again. “It’s fine, it’s fine—I’ve got it under control.”

She absolutely did not have it under control.

The elevator began to rise, soft music playing.

Arini’s blueprint slid.

She tried to adjust.

Her coffee sloshed.

The man moved slightly, just enough to shift out of splashing range without making it obvious.

She noticed.

And scowled at her cup.

“Why do you hate me?” she whispered dramatically at the coffee.

He huffed a short, quiet laugh under his breath—almost surprised at himself.

Arini didn’t hear it.

She was busy catching her sliding blueprint with her knee while tapping her tablet screen with her pinky finger because her hands were full.

A mess.

A brilliant mess.

---

Meanwhile…

Jihoon should have been reviewing supplier reports.

Instead, he was silently watching the hurricane of a woman beside him attempt to keep her life from falling out of her arms.

He didn’t know her.

Didn’t care to.

But she was… noticeable.

Not in the glamorous way Seoul women usually were.

Not in the practiced elegance he was used to.

Just… real.

Her messy bun kept slipping.

A pencil was tucked behind her ear despite her tablet already having a stylus.

She muttered to her coffee like it had personally betrayed her family.

And yet—her badge said:

Consultant — A. Singh

The same name his managers had spoken about all week.

Interesting.

But he said nothing.

He wasn’t curious.

He wasn’t intrigued.

Just… mildly aware.

That was all.

---

Arini, oblivious

The elevator dinged.

27th floor.

“Ah! That’s me.” She rushed forward, blueprint under her arm, coffee lifted like a trophy of survival. “Thanks again—for, uh, pressing the door thing.”

Jihoon nodded once—a barely-there acknowledgement—and stepped back to give her room.

She rushed out.

Immediately tripped on absolutely nothing.

Recovered.

Pretended it didn’t happen.

Walked faster.

Jihoon watched the elevator doors close, expression blank.

But his mind noted something with irritating clarity:

So that was Arini Singh.

---

Later… downstairs

Jiwon leaned against Arini’s desk, twirling a pen.

“You were in the executive elevator earlier, right? Someone saw you.”

“Was I?” she asked, tapping away at her report.

“And apparently you almost dropped your coffee on someone very important.”

She paused.

“Oh god. Did I spill it on anyone?”

“No,” he chuckled. “But rumor says you looked like a tornado holding a latte.”

“Accurate,” she said.

“And the man you almost coffee-attacked?”

Jiwon smirked.

“Some say he’s handsome.”

She blinked at him.

“And I say I have deadlines.”

She turned back to her laptop.

Jiwon stared at her with disbelief.

“She really doesn’t react to anything,” he whispered to Mina.

“Poor boy,” Mina sighed. “She is a flirting-proof wall.”

Little did Arini know…

The man she’d almost splashed with coffee was the one man whose approval she desperately needed.

And the one man whose cold detachment could melt into something far more dangerous.

But not yet.

Not today.

Today was just a near-collision.

A spark neither noticed.

The beginning of something neither wanted.