Shin reprinted the agreement.
Yeri signed it as if she were holding a hammer instead of a pen. Her hand felt impossibly heavy, cold sweat seeping into her palm as she stared at the words she had just agreed to.
This time, Shin had added another clause, cold, absolute, merciless: By signing, she agreed to never divorce him, under any circumstances.
Shin noticed the hesitation in her strokes, the stiffness in her posture, but he didn't care.
After all, there was no one he wanted but her.
The moment she finished, he took the document without another glance and walked into his study, placing it securely inside a drawer before locking it.
Yeri watched him, her chest tight. Then she noticed the USB in his hand, her gaze lingered on it longer than she intended.
"Want to know what's inside?" Shin asked, catching her curiosity spilling over.
"Can I?" she asked, unable to stop herself.
Shin chuckled softly and gestured for her to follow.
Inside the study, he inserted the USB into his laptop. The screen lit up, revealing an encrypted file.
His fingers danced across the keyboard. In seconds, the file unlocked.
Rows of documents appeared from bank statements, transaction records, contracts filled with astronomical figures, unfamiliar abbreviations, internal memos.
Yeri tilted her head slightly. She didn't understand much, but one thing was clear. These weren't ordinary files.
"These look like…" she hesitated. "Important transactions?"
"Hmm. Neri Medical Group," Shin said calmly as his lips curled into a slow, dangerous smirk.
Lianna Neri.
That woman had just forced him to see her in an entirely different light.
If Zahn Neri or better yet, Madam Neri ever laid eyes on these files, they'd probably need a doctor themselves.
The daughter-in-law Madam Neri had always looked down on. Treated like a disposable nanny. A burden taken in out of obligation.
Yet she had crawled out of that household like a vengeful ghost.
Perhaps it was precisely because no one ever took Lianna seriously that she succeeded.
Madam Neri never guarded against her. They forgot that Lianna had also lived there, had witnessed, and knew things outsiders never would. Things even Zahn Neri, away on overseas medical missions for years had never touched.
"I don't exactly understand," Yeri finally said, looking up at him.
Shin wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer as he spoke mockingly, "Let's just say… it's your friend's revenge."
Yeri blinked. So it really was incriminating evidence, enough to flip the Neri family upside down.
"You're going to help Sister Lianna take revenge against the Neri family?" she asked, carefully watching his expression.
After all, she didn't believe Shin Keir would betray his friend so easily.
Shin closed the folder on his laptop and leaned back slightly, his gaze settling on Yeri with a calm seriousness that made her straighten unconsciously.
"Business and personal matters should never be entangled," he said evenly. "Once emotions enter the equation, judgment becomes compromised."
Yeri "..."
Is this an earnest advice coming from a capitalist?
Shin continued. "She wanted a divorce. The contents of that USB were simply leverage, her bargaining chip. Something Zahn Neri couldn't ignore."
Yeri absorbed his words in silence. She had seen enough of the USB's contents to understand why it carried weight, but she had no desire to know more.
"This is something that I shouldn't get involve," she said finally. "It's enough that I've seen it."
Shin studied her for a moment, as though assessing whether she truly meant it. Then he inclined his head slightly, accepting her stance as respect for Lianna's decision.
Yeri stood up, offering a light excuse. "I'm hungry. I'll check the kitchen."
She left before the conversation could drift any deeper, her footsteps fading down the corridor.
Shin turned back to the screen, his fingers moving as he resumed reviewing the files.
Before long, his phone vibrated.
"Boss," Secretary Yun's voice came through, tight with restraint. "Have you checked online? There are accusations circulating about Miss Zhi, linking her with the deceased, Leo Nafplion. Do you want me to handle it?"
Shin did not answer immediately. He opened his laptop instead, his expression hardening as the screen filled with headlines and carefully worded insinuations.
Marketing accounts, gossip pages, and anonymous sources painted a distorted narrative.
Some claimed Yeri Zhi and Leo Nafplion had been childhood sweethearts, that she had once adored him and later distanced herself when he "lost his way". Others twisted the story further, accusing her of abandoning him, implying that his descent into excess and bad company was her fault.
The stories contradicted one another, yet shared the same malicious intent.
"I don't want to see any of these from now on," Shin said calmly.
Secretary Yun understood immediately.
In less than an hour, the articles vanished, accounts silenced, posts deleted, rumors erased as if they had never existed.
Yeri remained completely unaware.
---
Far south of Sin City, in a secluded villa surrounded by towering walls and iron gates, a black car rolled to a quiet stop.
The same vehicle that had followed Yeri from the café parked discreetly along the road.
A man in a black hoodie stepped out, his movements cautious and practiced. He scanned his surroundings before slipping inside the villa.
The contrast was jarring. Outside, the night was eerily still. Inside, it was chaos.
Men in black suits patrolled the grounds with professional vigilance, while loud music thundered from the back garden. Neon lights flickered over bodies pressed together, women in revealing clothes laughing and dancing as if tomorrow did not exist.
The hooded man kept his head down, following someone through a side entrance and down a quiet corridor. He was led into a study.
The door closed.
The noise outside dulled, replaced by sounds that made his ears burn.
He remained motionless, eyes fixed on the floor, as though he had learned long ago that curiosity was dangerous.
Without a word, he placed his equipment on the desk, phones, miniature cameras, storage devices, lining them up with meticulous care.
Time passed.
Then came a sudden sharp cry, followed by hurried movement.
The two people doing it on the chair stopped.
The woman scrambled away from the desk, fear flashing across her face, but the man holding her yanked her back by the hair before finally noticing the hooded figure.
"Oh," he said with a hoarse chuckle. "I forgot about you."
With an irritated kick, he shoved the woman aside. "Get out."
She didn't need to be told twice. Gathering her clothes, she fled the room.
The hooded man's face was flushed, his muscles locked in tension as he stood frozen in place.
The man behind the desk leaned back, his voice low and dangerous. "Anything interesting?"
The hooded man flinched. "T-today, Yeri Zhi met with Lianna Neri at a café. I couldn't hear what they discussed, but they spoke for nearly two hours."
The man's lips curved slowly.
"Is that so?"
The room fell silent once more, heavy, suffocating, and full of intent.
"Useless."
That single word sent the man in the hoodie trembling. Cold fear crawled up his spine, freezing his tongue.
He couldn't confess, not when the truth was that he had arrived too late, too careless, and heard nothing of substance from the café.
"B-based on our investigation," he stammered, bowing his head lower, "Lianna Neri has long wanted to divorce Zahn Neri, but she couldn't find a lawyer willing to take her case. Perhaps… after meeting Yeri Zhi today… she was seeking her help to approach Shin Keir."
The man behind the desk did not respond. He calmly lit a cigarette, the flame briefly illuminating his sharp, shadowed features.
Smoke curled lazily into the air as his eyes locked onto the trembling figure before him, predatory and unblinking.
The silence stretched, thick, suffocating.
Finally, he spoke.
"Do you know what happened to the people before you?"
The hoodie man swallowed hard. His legs shook violently.
"Just when I thought I could finally see that bastard Shin Keir fall into despair… Rogue, that useless dog actually died." The man laughed softly, dangerously.
He exhaled smoke, amused. "How ridiculous. It wasn't even someone from the mafia who dealt with him. Can you believe that?"
The hoodie man forced a laugh in response, but it came out as a pitiful squeak.
"And not long ago," the man continued casually, "I was informed that our people who infiltrated Hexion were wiped out immediately."
He chuckled, tapping ash into a crystal tray. "Shin Keir suddenly grew bored and had Tristan sweep the entire organization clean. I wonder… Is he starting to suspect something?"
At that, the hoodie man broke completely.
Cold sweat drenched him as he dropped to his knees, bowing repeatedly. "I-I'm sorry! I swear I'll do better next time! I won't slack off again! I'll do whatever it takes!"
"Even the initial plan," the man went on, utterly ignoring him, "those mercenaries couldn't even touch a single strand of Shin Keir's hair. How utterly shameful, a bunch of useless trash. Good thing they're dead."
His voice dipped lower, thick with resentment.
"Do you know how infuriating that is? To be treated like a rat crawling in a gutter?" He sneered. "From then until now, Shin Keir remains just as detestable as ever."
"I'm telling the truth!" the hoodie man blurted out desperately, slamming his forehead against the floor. "I was late because I had to take several detours! I wanted to enter the café, but I noticed suspicious customers and passersby outside. I believe they were people from Hexion!"
"Oh?" The man chuckled. "That's it? Your instinct?"
The hoodie man nodded vigorously, then shook his head just as fast.
"N-no! Not just instinct! Shin Keir must truly value that woman, he placed too many of his men in the shadows to protect her!"
The man laughed again, low and sinister.
"And was your task really so difficult?"
Before the hoodie man could answer, the door opened.
Two men stepped in. They seized the hoodie man by the arms.
"If you can't accomplish what's expected of you," the man said lazily, "what's the point of begging?" His lips curled. "I don't like losers."
The hoodie man clutched the edge of the desk, screaming, pleading for one more chance, swearing he would deliver results, that he would do anything.