Juri

When we arrived at his private floor, I almost gasped before he could even open the door. My jaw dropped at the sheer sight of his penthouse door as he punched in the code. It was floor-to-ceiling high that matched the soaring vertical space of a top-floor residence.

This wasn't entirely shocking, though, considering his status. He didn't fully explain why he brought me here in the car. He just mentioned something about wanting to sign another contract and discuss something.

When he unlocked the door, he turned to look back at me, and I stiffened.

"After you," he held his hand in front of him as he gestured for me to enter, and I smiled awkwardly.

Getting used to him was difficult. He really was hard to read.

The gallery hallway stretched forward from the entrance, defined by clean lines and without clutter. The walls were matte gray and off-white in color, which was easy on the eyes compared to the harsh streetlights of Seoul.

He walked past me and led the way to the living room. The living room seamlessly flowed into a clean, handle-free dark gray kitchen. His living space felt less like a home and more like a high-end fortress, dominated by a massive charcoal sectional and a sleek marble coffee table that gleamed under a single, soft lamp.

His residence wasn't at all what I was expecting. If anything, I thought it would be filled with luxury items or over-the-top tech, but it was minimalistic.

So this was going to be my home for the next year.

I liked it.

He took off his tailored blazer and set it on the coat tree, loosened his tie, and placed his key on the console. He had a completely different aura around him compared to when he was at work. He looked calmer. Almost as if this place was his sanctuary.

The fact that I got to see this side of him was...

"Have you eaten yet?" his deep voice cut through the air, snapping my attention back to him.

"Not yet...sir."

His brows furrowed slightly, "I told you not to be so formal when it's just the two of us."

"I know. But it's hard since you're my boss." I rubbed the side of my arm and mumbled, "And an heir."

He nodded, "Understandable. Anyway, I asked Taeho to drop off some food. Let's eat first."

I waved my hands and chuckled awkwardly, "Actually, I'm not that hungry--"

Growl.

I paused.

He smirked.

"This way," he gestured for me to follow him to the dining area, as I secretly wished to disappear. Seriously, why do these things only happen at times like these?

My brows lifted upon seeing the food. Or at least what was supposed to be the food. Instead, on the dining table was a brushed-metal thermal vault that looked like it required a code.

Sunjae placed the code and opened the vault. Inside, the food was stored in a heavy, polished Bangjja Yugi, a traditional Korean brassware. The metal gleamed like muted gold under the penthouse lights.

I had never seen anything like that before. I felt bad about all the trouble that must've gone into preparing this. I didn't deserve anything like this.

"Why didn't we just go to a restaurant instead?"

"Everyone in the country is determined to uncover who I will marry. There are eyes and ears everywhere at the moment."

That made sense. However, why would he go through so much trouble to have food delivered in a literal vault?

As he pulled out the dishes, he noticed my curiosity, "These dishes were made by a 3-star Michelin chef that I know personally. I specifically asked him to prepare this in their private kitchen."

That didn't answer my question at all.

He gently led me to my seat before removing each dish from the vault. This level of luxury was astounding. He really had a Michelin chef cook and deliver Sinseonro? (A Korean royal hotpot dish)

When he handed one of the brassware to me, my hands almost crumbled upon the sheer weight of the container. It was firm and polished. I was honestly scared to drop such an expensive antique.

He took out the other brass and placed it on his side. I stared back and forth between the brass and the vault. This was something I never thought I'd ever experience in my life. All this security just for food?

"Are you not going to taste it?" Sunjae asked as he set the vault aside. He swiftly picked up the bottle of wine and slowly poured my glass, ensuring the liquid didn't splash. He then placed the utensils next to my bowl.

With trembling hands, I opened the lid. A cloud of rich, fragrant steam was released as if it walked out of the kitchen.

"That's so cool. The brass keeps the food hot?" My eyes widened, fascinated by the thought put into every detail of this dish.

He folded his arms and leaned back into his seat, "The brass retains heat perfectly. It keeps the temperature the same from when it left the kitchen."

I gasped, "It's a literal portable stove!"

"Feel free to try the dish."

I nodded and picked up the spoon, a little anxious to taste the food. Not only because the dish looked like it cost more than my rent, but also because I was in front of Lee Sunjae. If I told myself from just a month ago that I'd be in his house eating with him, I'd lose my head.

Life really does like throwing curveballs at people.

When the food reached my mouth, it tasted incredibly clean, light, and deeply savory. It isn't spicy at all. Instead, it warmed my chest.

I covered my mouth and involuntarily wiggled my body in a little dance. A habit I did whenever the food was great, "Oh my goodness! This is really good--"

"Pfft."

My eyes widened. Was that a chuckle? I looked up at him, but he had his usual poker face as he elegantly took a bite of his dish.

Did I imagine that?

We ate in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, the warmth of the broth finally calming my racing heart. As I took another spoonful, he placed his utensils back down on the table and interlocked his hands.

"Let's get back into why I brought you here," he started.

Oh, right. The marriage.

He stood up and walked over to the living room before returning with a similar leather manilla folder from the contract signing. He took his seat and pulled out the formal documents.

"During our marriage, you will receive a monthly allowance to maintain your appearance as my wife and the face of Elyvion. Upon our divorce, a lump sum alimony and a property in Hannam-dong will be transferred to your name permanently," he said as he handed the document to me.

My eyes grew into the size of sources upon seeing the alimony. I have never seen so many zeros when talking about money before. This was enough to set me up for a lifetime, if not two! Suddenly...a huge wave of guilt washed over me, and I set the document down.

He raised a brow, "Is it not enough?"

"No, it's not that." I fidgeted with my sleeves, "It just feels like you're getting the short end of the deal here. You don't have to do all this for me. I only want revenge, that's it. This is all too much."

He tilted his head and rested it on his fists while studying me. His bangs dangled over his eyelids as the dining room light lit up his sharp eyes, giving him a mysterious glow.

"Juri Kim, I will never make a deal without benefiting the most out of it. I already told you my strategy. With your biracial identity, not only will I secure my position as Hwaon's successor, but I will gain international dominance in the industry--"

"That's the problem.The public's view is subjective. We don't exactly know how they would react to this marriage. If anything, this was probably the biggest risk you could ever take!"

He started tapping his index finger on the table. Oh no.

I struck a nerve.

"Are you questioning my competence as CMO?"

My back straightened, "What no--"

"You clearly assume that I am merely an amateur who has no clue about this industry. My entire life has built up to this title, not nepotism. I faught tooth and nail to get here."

Before I could reply, my peripheral vision caught a glimpse of something moving from the living room to under the dinner table. I immediately screamed and stood up. What the! Sunjae calmy bent down and reached out for something beneath the table.

"Wait! Is that a rat?!"

He frowned, deeply offended.

"Did you just mistake Miwa for a rat?"