Keigh hadn't expected the dinner with Nara to linger in his mind the way it did. He thought it would fade the next morning, like every other social evening he attended out of obligation. But ever since that night, she kept circling in his thoughts, the way she laughed softly before answering a question, how she looked at him like she actually saw him, not just the heir or the Dynamite son.
And then the texting started.
It was innocent at first, updates about the anniversary event, small questions, jokes here and there. But somewhere between "How's your day?" and "Don't forget you promised to pick the black roses," their conversations became longer. Later. Warmer.
Sometimes he caught himself smiling at his phone like a fool.
Nara made it easy, too easy. She didn't try to impress him, didn't try to flirt, didn't try to earn points with his family name. She was just… Nara. Honest. Unexpected. Comfortable.
He had never experienced a connection that grew quietly like this, not loud, not dramatic, just steady and real. It scared him. It grounded him. It made him feel alive again.
And it made the arranged marriage feel even more suffocating.
His father had brought it up again two nights ago, speaking as if the decision was already made. As if Keigh's life was a business merger. As if his emotions didn't matter.
"After the anniversary," his father had said, "we'll finalize the agreement."
Keigh had nodded respectfully because arguing always sparked a storm. But inside, he knew the truth.
There was no way he could commit himself to someone else, not when the thought of Nara tightened his chest, not when she had unknowingly unlocked a version of him he hadn't seen in years.
He wasn't naïve. He knew Nara didn't belong to him. She didn't even seem aware of her own feelings yet. She kept her guard up, kept things professional, tried not to overstep. But he felt it, the subtle shifts, the pauses, the softness that wasn't there before.
He felt it in her messages late at night.
He felt it when she avoided meeting his eyes for too long.
He felt it when she smiled at her phone the same time he did.
After the anniversary party, he would speak to his parents. Respectfully, but firmly.
He wasn't going through with the arranged marriage.
He wasn't choosing a stranger because of tradition or pressure.
And if there was even the slightest chance Nara felt something too…
Then he wanted to choose her.
Not for status, not for convenience, but because every day, their conversations made it harder to imagine a life without her in it.
---
Nara didn't know what was happening between her and Keigh, but she felt the shift long before she admitted it.
After that dinner… everything changed. Not dramatically. Not in a "movie moment" way.
Just quietly. Naturally. Like something that was meant to happen slowly.
He texted her that same night, something casual, something harmless:
"i just got home safe"
She almost ignored it. Almost.
But she replied.
And that was the beginning.
Since then, the two of them had fallen into this strange rhythm,little conversations that lasted longer than they should, innocent check-ins that somehow turned personal,
late-night chats that carried a softness she couldn't explain.
It wasn't flirty nor was it romantic, but it wasn't normal either.
She tried to tell herself that Keigh was like this with everyone. Friendly. Kind. Respectful. Someone who treated people as if their words mattered.
But then he'd say something too sincere, something that felt like it was meant only for her.
He noticed her moods, he asked questions no one bothered to ask. He remembered tiny details she didn't expect anyone to remember.
And Nara, who was always composed, always guarded, found herself opening up without realizing she was doing it.
It scared her more than she'd admit, especially because of who he was.
The Dynamite family wasn't unknown. Everybody had heard the name.
Nara just never imagined she'd speak to one of them, let alone feel a… connection.
She didn't know anything about Fiona or the arranged marriage rumors. Those were things she only heard whispered in passing.
Nothing concrete. Nothing she cared about.
She wasn't involved in his family or their events. She wasn't coordinating anything for them. She was just… herself.
A woman who suddenly found her heart reacting every time her phone lit up with his name.
And that annoyed her.
She didn't want to like him, not like that. It felt dangerous, unpredictable.
Like stepping into a room without knowing where the floor ended.
Yet here she was, checking her messages faster than she should, reading his words twice, smiling at her screen in ways she would deny under oath.
She didn't know what he wanted.
She didn't know what she wanted.
But she did know this:
Ever since that dinner, there was something unspoken growing between them.
Something warm, something steady, something she wasn't ready for…
…yet couldn't seem to stay away from.