“YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKING IDIOT,” Haneul yelled. Everyone startled. The bartender dropped a glass.
“You DON’T just call someone and say that RIGHT BEFORE A PARTY! What am I supposed to do with my FACE now, you bastard?! I’m wearing BOOTS with NO SOUL and a TAIL, and now I’m— I’m—fuck—I love you too, you skyscraper freak! YOU BETTER FINISH THAT DAMN MEETING AND GOT YOUR ASS HERE OR—!”
The call dropped.
The room erupted—cheers, laughter. Haneul slammed back his drink, red to his ears. The wings on his back glinted as he jumped down from the counter, laughing, flushed, tail swishing.
Hyacinth wiped a fake tear. “Love is such a little bitch.”
Cha Yul smiled from above, heart full, glass raised again.
But the lights felt brighter now.
And somewhere in the air lingered the scent of smoke—not yet real.
??????
Chapter 46–Ashes, Not Snow
Seungho felt the shift somewhere between the third sip of tea and the third minute of silence.
The Jangs were late.
Only by fifteen minutes. Twenty, at most. But everything about them was polished to the second—tardiness wasn't just rude, it was a tactic.
And today, it reeked of performance.
He stood at the far end of the conference suite, staring down at Seoul’s skyline through floor-length windows.
Behind him, Jaewan skimmed through the briefing documents without reading. He didn’t need to. They had practiced this meeting like choreography.
Only—this time something was off-beat.
“They’re late on purpose,” Seungho said softly.
Jaewan didn’t argue. Just closed the folder.
“You still want to go through with it?”
Seungho exhaled. “We stall now, we blink. They want that. This is about leverage.”
Jaewan leaned back, dry smile flicking across his mouth. “It’s always about leverage.”
Then the door opened.
And Mr. and Mrs. Jang entered like royalty unaware their crowns were cracking. Velvet and gold. Soft perfume and coldersmiles. No son in sight. Just apologies about traffic and nods toward their assistant.
They sat. They smiled. They performed.
Seungho sat too—but only with his body.
His mind was already elsewhere.
With a fox. In leather. Probably drunk by now and dancing like chaos given shape.
He told himself there was no reason to worry. Security was tight.
Cha Yul was careful.
