The office was unusually quiet when the flowers arrived.
Not the peaceful kind of quiet, more like the hush that settles before something breaks.
Kim Seo Rin looked up from the documents spread across her desk when the receptionist knocked, her smile stiff, rehearsed. The bouquet was large, deliberate, wrapped in matte black paper that swallowed the light instead of reflecting it. Even before Seo Rin reached for the card, she knew.
Black calla lilies.
Elegant. Funereal. Mocking.
Her fingers trembled only once before she steadied them. The card slid free easily, as if it had been waiting.
Congratulations on your wedding.
Congratulations on becoming CEO.
The words were neat. Controlled. Almost affectionate.
Her breath left her in a slow, careful exhale. The room felt smaller, the walls pressing inward. Of all flowers, he had chosen this, flowers meant for endings, not beginnings.
He was back.
A walking disaster dressed as a man. A shadow that never stayed buried. She could almost hear his voice between the lines of ink, amused and intimate, as though this was a private joke only the two of them shared.
Seo Rin pushed her chair back and opened the drawer beneath her desk. Her hand brushed against cold metal.
The pistol was still there.
She didn't take it out. She didn't need to. The knowledge alone steadied her pulse, grounded her in the present. Survival was a habit now, not a reaction.
She closed the drawer softly.
Across the city, Lee Jae Min was preparing for dinner as if it were just another strategic meeting. His voice was calm when he told her earlier that a friend would be joining them, someone important, someone he trusted.
"He'll be staying for dinner," he'd said, casual, almost careless. "I think you'll find him… familiar."
She hadn't asked questions. Marriage, she had learned quickly, was not about asking, it was about observing.
That night, the mansion glowed under layers of warm light. The dining table was long, polished, set with precision that bordered on obsessive. Every glass was aligned. Every plate placed exactly where it should be.
When the door opened, the world tilted.
Seo Rin's vision blurred for half a second, long enough for her knees to weaken, long enough for memory to surge like a bruise being pressed too hard. She caught the edge of the table before she fell, her fingers whitening against the dark wood.
The guest smiled.
Not wide. Not friendly.
A slow, knowing curve of the lips, as if he'd been waiting years for this moment.
Seo Il Kwon.
He stepped forward with the confidence of someone who had never been told no and never planned to hear it. His suit was immaculate, his presence filling the room without effort. He didn't look at Jae Min first.
He looked at her.
"Seo Rin," he said softly, like a greeting meant only for her ears.
Jae Min noticed the pause, the tension tightening the air, but he said nothing. Instead, he moved smoothly into introductions, unaware, or pretending to be unaware of the history vibrating beneath the surface.
"This is Seo Il Kwon," Jae Min said, his hand resting lightly on the back of Seo Rin's chair. "A close friend. CEO of Blue Multinational Corporation."
Seo Rin inclined her head, her expression composed, her spine straight. Years of survival had taught her how to wear calm like armor.
"It's a pleasure," she said.
The lie tasted metallic.
Dinner unfolded with polite conversation, the kind that skimmed the surface of things, markets, expansions, global trends. Forks clinked against porcelain. Wine was poured and refilled.
Seo Rin barely tasted the food.
Every movement Seo Il Kwon made felt deliberate. Every glance lingered a moment too long. When Jae Min's phone rang and he excused himself to take the call, the silence that followed was sharp enough to cut.
Seo Il Kwon leaned back slightly, his gaze fixed on his plate as if what he was about to say didn't matter.
"Did you like the flowers?" he asked calmly.
Her hand clenched in her lap.
"I thought they suited the occasion," he continued, finally looking up, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Milestones deserve recognition."
Seo Rin's jaw tightened. Words gathered at the back of her throat, anger, fear, memories she had buried with deliberate care. She opened her mouth to speak and Jae Min returned.
The moment snapped shut like a trap.
Conversation resumed, lighter now, safer on the surface. Seo Il Kwon smiled again, all civility, as if nothing had passed between them. Seo Rin mirrored him perfectly.
War, she knew, was rarely loud at the beginning.
______________
Across town, Kim Seo Rin's mother sat with unease folded into her posture, her hands clasped together as if prayer alone might be enough.
"I worry about her," she said quietly, staring at the floor. "This world she's entered… it's cruel. Seo Rin has always been too gentle."
Kim Mu Jin barely looked up from his phone.
"She's not as innocent as you think," he said flatly, scrolling. "People don't survive where she is by being fragile."
Kim Ara watched them both in silence.
She said nothing because she knew too much.
She knew how innocence was often mistaken for restraint. How strength learned in silence was the hardest kind to recognize. Seo Rin was not weak.
She was becoming dangerous.
And Ara feared, not for her sister's survival, but for what Seo Rin might be forced to become next.
Outside, the city lights burned steadily, unaware of the alliances shifting behind closed doors, unaware that old ghosts had returned and new wars had already begun.
Some congratulations were warnings.
And some flowers were declarations of intent.