Before dawn, the spacious guest room was unusually silent.

Kang Woo, who had been tossing and turning, gave up on sleep and opened his eyes. It was 4 AM according to his phone. He decided to head to the office early and leave early, needing to rectify last night’s situation.

He wondered how angry Se Ah must be, having undoubtedly furrowed her brows.

Disappointment was evident in her usually gentle eyes, as if saying, ‘I knew you would do this.’ After a long stare, she abruptly entered her room. Kang Woo did the same, knowing that any conversation would only lead to more trouble.

Kang Woo barely managed to suppress his rising rage.

Se Ah and Kim Do Yeong’s visit to the Hanbit Orphanage on the 24th was a coincidence. He repeated this to himself all night like a mantra, trying to convince himself.

Yet, he couldn’t accept it. Why did her plans with Do Yeong have to overlap on the 24th? The same question relentlessly circled his mind.

For someone dry and work-obsessed like him, Christmas Eve was just another day, albeit business-critical due to the launch events. But for someone like Se Ah, who gets excited at the year’s first snow, wasn’t Christmas Eve special?

Yet, she completely excluded him. It was as if reaffirming her indifference towards him.

Kicking off the thin blanket, Kang Woo got out of bed, naked. After throwing on a discarded robe, he closed the open window and headed to the bedroom.

“Ha.”

He sighed heavily and tried the bedroom doorknob, only to find it locked.

Impressive, really.

He marveled at Se Ah’s rejection and turned away in anger.

His insides burned with a feverish sensation, still reeling from last night’s aftermath.

Se Ah arrived at the writing room.

Glancing at her reflection in the round desk mirror, she noticed her haggard appearance from lack of sleep.

Soon after entering her bedroom last night, she heard Kang Woo’s door shut.

‘With Kim Do Yeong?’

His black pupils flared with uncontrollable rage. It was the first time he had shown such blatant displeasure, leaving her bewildered.

Though there was no need to explain in their agreed-upon sham marriage, she wanted to. To say she didn’t know Do Yeong would also be at the orphanage on the 24th, that it was a decision made after the deputy director’s request.

But Kang Woo gave no chance for explanations.

“It’s not a request. There’s no room for compromise.”

So be it then. That’s just who he is. Love, what a joke…

Even a slight defiance meant their relationship hung by a thread. Conditional affection at best. His cold gaze pierced her heart like a dagger.

See? Why still expect anything from this man? She spent the night blaming herself more than him.

Shaking her head to clear the gloom, Se Ah couldn’t afford to be drained by him all day.
Se Ah checked the team dinner email again. Kang Woo still hadn’t read it.

Se Ah went up to the executive office. Secretary Choi, sitting at the desk, looked slightly surprised but then smiled and stood up.

“Writer Ji, it’s been a while.”

“Hello, Secretary Choi.”

Se Ah glanced involuntarily at the executive office door, hoping it wouldn’t open just then.

“The president is in a meeting.”

“Okay.”

“Do you have any messages for me?”

Se Ah lightly placed her hands on the desk.

“Well… I was hesitant to ask elsewhere, so I tried to handle it myself, but things got a bit complicated.”

“Okay.”

Secretary Choi’s smile suggested understanding. To her, Se Ah, despite speaking firmly, still appeared very much like a novice, especially in comparison to Choi’s decade of corporate experience.

“As you know, writers don’t have a direct team or senior. Plus, it’s my first corporate job. Not that I’m making excuses.”

“Okay.”

Choi listened patiently, a level of tolerance that explained her capacity to handle Kang Woo, a man who wouldn’t tolerate incompetency, preferring to pay off rather than bear it.

Likewise, Choi wouldn’t endure Kang Woo just because they were related. His temperament was too strong for that.

Se Ah had seen Choi a few times at family gatherings, albeit briefly due to her short marriage. Choi was significantly older and held a higher family status.

Yet, at the company, she was her husband’s secretary. The relationship seemed complex, especially considering their apparently troubled marriage.

Nevertheless, drawn by Choi’s kindness, Se Ah began to speak.

“It might be too late to discuss this, but there’s a writers’ dinner today. I sent a group email, and a separate one to the president.”

“But the president hasn’t checked it yet, right?”

Choi was different, indeed. Se Ah clapped her hands in delight.

“Yes, exactly. I asked another writer, and they said I should inform the president regardless of his attendance. But it seems my message hasn’t been conveyed. Today is the dinner, what should I do?”

“What else? Wait here until the president finishes his meeting and then speak to him directly.”

“Me, personally? Is that the right protocol? I mean, is it normal for an employee to enter the executive office?”