There was something about her.
Something that made the air shift when she entered a room, something that set my teeth on edge, made my pulse stutter in a way I couldn’t explain.
Min-Ji Han.
A woman I had never met before. A woman I shouldn’t have met before.
And yet, the moment my eyes locked onto hers, a whisper of familiarity ghosted through me like a long-forgotten dream.
I didn’t believe in ghosts.
But she looked like one—something from a past I couldn’t place, a shadow slipping through my fingers the moment I reached for it.
I had never been the kind of man to hesitate. My instincts were sharp, honed by years of survival, of ruling in a world where weakness was the first step toward an early grave. And yet, standing before this woman, I felt something I hadn’t felt in years.
Uncertainty.
I hated it.
I hated the way my gaze kept drifting to her, how my mind kept tracing the shape of her lips, the way she moved like she was both predator and prey. She was beautiful, yes, but it was more than that.
She was dangerous.
And I had always been drawn to dangerous things.
One Week Later – The Banquet
The room was buzzing with laughter, clinking glasses, and the hollow pleasantries of the elite. I had attended hundreds of these events before, each one a stage for power plays disguised as small talk.
But tonight, I wasn’t interested in power plays.
I was hunting.
I stood at the top of the grand staircase, scanning the crowd like a king surveying his kingdom. And then, I saw her.
Min-Ji.
She wore red—a deliberate choice, a warning wrapped in silk.
My grip tightened around my glass as my gaze drank her in. Every move she made was calculated, precise. She knew how to command attention, how to weave through the room without ever letting anyone get too close.
But I wasn’t just anyone.
She raised her glass toward me in a silent toast, a small, knowing smile playing at the corner of her lips. A challenge. A dare.
My jaw clenched.
Who are you?
I had spent years dealing with liars, with people who wore masks so well they forgot what their real faces looked like. But this woman—she wasn’t just wearing a mask. She had become it.
And that intrigued me.
I descended the stairs slowly, purposefully, watching her every move as I approached. The crowd parted for me, instinctively recognizing the shift in the air, the way power rearranged itself when I entered the space.
She didn’t move.
She didn’t flinch.
Interesting.
When I reached her, I leaned in just slightly, lowering my voice to a murmur. “You enjoy watching me, don’t you?”
Her lips curved, eyes glittering with something unreadable. “Only as much as you enjoy watching me.”
A sharp, dark chuckle escaped me. She was playing the game well. But did she realize she had stepped into a den of wolves?
“You remind me of someone,” I said, watching her closely.
She tilted her head, feigning curiosity. “Oh? Should I be flattered?”
My fingers itched to trace the line of her jaw, to feel if her skin was as smooth as it looked. I resisted the urge. “That depends.”
Her gaze flickered for a fraction of a second—so quick, so subtle, but I caught it. A crack in the mask.
There it was again. That feeling.
That gnawing, aching familiarity.
I had spent years searching for a ghost, chasing the whispers of a name that had long since turned to dust in my memory.
Taerin Yang.
A name I had buried with the dead.
But looking at Min-Ji now, my chest tightened, a flicker of something ugly curling in my gut.
It wasn’t possible.
She was Gone.
The woman I had spent years trying to forget—the woman who had been taken from me before I even had the chance to understand what she meant to me—was gone.
And yet…
Min-Ji’s eyes held something familiar. Something that shouldn’t have been there.
I stepped closer, crowding into her space, watching for any reaction. She didn’t move back, didn’t shrink away like most people did when faced with my intensity. Instead, she lifted her chin slightly, meeting me head-on.
Defiant.
Challenging.
Dangerous.
I wanted to unravel her.
I wanted to ruin her.
And the worst part?
I wanted to keep her.
“Tell me, Min-Ji,” I murmured, voice a thread of silk and steel. “Are you a liar?”
Her smile was slow, devastating. “Aren’t we all?”
I should have walked away.
I should have left her to whatever game she was playing.
But I didn’t.
Because for the first time in years, I felt something other than cold, numbing detachment.
I felt curiosity.
And curiosity was a dangerous thing.
Especially when it came wrapped in red silk and secrets.
Earlier That Night....
I sat in my office, staring at the engagement announcement on my desk.
Hae-I in the photo wasn’t her.
And yet, when I had made the announcement, I had thought it was.
I wasn’t a fool. I knew what people whispered when they thought I couldn’t hear. That Seong-Jin Lee had spent years searching for a woman who no longer existed. That I had turned down every potential match because I was still haunted by the ghost of Taerin Yang.
They weren’t wrong.
And yet, I had announced my engagement to a woman I barely knew.
Because for a brief, fleeting moment—when I saw her across the room at that gala—I had felt it.
That same pull. That same aching familiarity.
And I had convinced myself that she was Taerin.
But I had been wrong.
Hadn’t I?
My grip tightened around the edge of my desk. Something about this entire situation was unraveling. I could feel it.
I needed to know more.
I needed to know who Min-Ji Han really was.
Because if there was one thing I knew for certain, it was this—
She was not who she claimed to be.
And if she was lying to me, if she had dared to step into my world with secrets hidden beneath that porcelain exterior…
I would find them.
I would unravel her.
And when I did?
She would belong to me.
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