Chapter 1

Drawn in by beauty and fragrance, she stepped into the rose vines—
only to find it was a cruel thorn path that tore into her skin.

She struggled desperately to break free.

But every time she tried, she fell helplessly into sweet temptations and carefully set traps.

Maybe it was already decided the moment she stepped inside the vines.
No matter how clever the trick, there would be no way out.

Still, she foolishly resisted.

Her whole body scratched, bleeding, covered in wounds,
she fought with all her strength not to be swallowed by the vines.

And she didn’t even notice—
that the red drops staining her body were becoming the same shade as the rose petals.

Sorting through the mountain of case files took far longer than expected.

“Are you almost done clearing everything out?”

Turning her head, Heejae looked at the investigator speaking to her while she stacked files onto the cart.

But the man’s eyes weren’t on her—they were glued to the second hand of his watch, ticking away.

It was silent pressure: hurry up, time’s running out.

“Yes, I’m done.”

She stood from her crouched position.

And then, from the empty desk, she picked up the only thing left behind.

“Prosecutor Choi Heejae.”

Her hand lingered on the nameplate for a moment.
But soon she placed it into the box of office supplies, pretending not to care.

It hadn’t even been a year since she got her own office, but the shelves had overflowed with case files.
There were days she thought she might drown beneath them,
but she had worked tirelessly, giving her all as a prosecutor.

Only when leaving did she realize—
there wasn’t a single file here she could take with her.

The endless sea of documents that once made her feel needed by society were no longer hers.

One by one, government clerks hauled the stacks away.

Watching their retreating backs, Heejae knew it was time to go.

Yet her feet wouldn’t move.

She still couldn’t let go.
Not even now.

“Should we hand over the active investigation files to Prosecutor Park?”

Her colleagues—who had once shared long days and nights with her—asked impatiently, their faces stiff.

There were no words of thanks, no encouragement, no polite goodbyes.

And she understood.
This place was too busy for sentiment.

And maybe… maybe they really did feel betrayed by her.

“Yes. Do that.”

She answered calmly, hugging the box of her belongings to her chest.
Then she stepped out of her office for the last time.

As soon as she walked out, the busy hallway turned and stared.

It was as if they had been waiting for this moment.
Their eyes glimmered with curiosity, like they were watching some spectacle.

Heejae walked through their stares, one step at a time.

“Hasn’t it been less than a year since she was appointed?”

She heard the whispers.

The prosecutor’s office was always noisy,
but somehow, every word about her carried clearly through the din.

“So the rumors were true?”

“What rumors?”

“You didn’t hear? Prosecutor Choi, she made a deal with a chaebol family—”

No matter how quietly they spoke, gossip about her reached her ears.

“Which one?”

“Shinil Group.”

“The one who personally came in for questioning before? That guy?”

“Yes. Remember how the supervising prosecutor rushed in and it was chaos?”

If her hands had been free, she would have covered her ears.

Instead, she just looked down at the box she carried and quickened her pace.

Today, of all days, the hallway felt endlessly long.
And their groundless rumors sounded deafening.

After dedicating her youth and everything she had to reach this place,
she was being forced out in less than a year.
Of course her heart wasn’t unscathed.

“If she’s connected to a chaebol, she’ll probably open her own law office soon.”

Even as she stood waiting for the elevator, the gossip didn’t stop.

“Or maybe she’ll just join their legal team outright.”

“That would be too obvious, though.”

“Shh. Quiet, she’ll hear.”

Too late. She already did.

The elevator dinged, and Heejae slipped inside like an arrow.

Once outside the building, she headed straight for the parking lot.

Everywhere she went, eyes followed.

She loaded her things into her car, slid into the driver’s seat,
and finally let out a shaky breath.

But instead of starting the engine, her eyes lingered on the prosecutor’s office building.

“…It’s unfair.”

She whispered to herself, her eyes reddening.

Lowering her head against the steering wheel, she couldn’t hide the frustration.

She had been kicked out.

Yes, it was true that Shinil Group, one of the most powerful financial conglomerates in Korea, had tried to bribe her.
But she had refused, staying true to her duty as a prosecutor.
She had finished her case with integrity.

Still, her refusal only made her a target.

Her superiors—up to and including the chief prosecutor—called her in constantly.

“Prosecutor Choi, you’re still a rookie. You don’t understand.
If you want to survive in this field, you can’t act like this.”

Shinil Group’s pressure wasn’t aimed at her alone.
They already had her bosses and even junior staff on their side.

Only Heejae held onto justice.

But the moment she chose what was right,
everyone turned against her.

And now, shoved out, she had no choice but to leave.

She used to think being a prosecutor meant she’d never be at the mercy of anyone,
that she’d be safe as a government official.

But the truth was different.

You didn’t need to fire someone to destroy them.
Social ruin was enough.

“I told you not to play tricks, Heejae.”

A voice she hated most of all rang in her ears.

“You belong at my side.”
“You’re best suited for cleaning up after me, not playing clever games.”

She had gone through law school, pushed by her parents and guardian, to become a lawyer.
But to escape him, to break out of his trap, she had clawed her way into the narrowest opening—becoming a prosecutor instead.

And yet, even now, she hadn’t escaped.

He had clipped her wings.
And now, he was readying a new cage.

Bzzzz—

Her phone vibrated.

She pulled it from her pocket.

[Heejae, when are you coming?]

That persistent man who never left her alone.

[By now, you should’ve left the prosecutor’s office already.]

He didn’t shove her into a cage.
Instead, he cleared a path so that the wingless Heejae would crawl into it herself.

[Don’t try anything stupid. Just come. I miss you.]

The cheerful, affectionate tone after ruining her life made her want to scream.

Heejae silenced the notifications and tossed the phone into the passenger seat.

He didn’t deserve a reply.

And yet, bitterly, the place she headed was none other than Shinil Group headquarters.

Parking in the ground lot, she stepped out and frowned up at the building.

The newly built tower gleamed with glass walls,
so bright with sunlight it was almost blinding.

Just like him—sitting somewhere too high for her to ever reach.

She once swore she’d never look up at that tree she couldn’t climb.
But faced with it now, it was hard not to want it, even a little.

Pulling out the Shinil Group ID card she had been given,
she passed through multiple layers of security and reached the very top floor.

The CEO’s office.

As expected, the secretaries bowed politely and opened the door for her.

The door swung wide—

and there he was.

The man seated at the very center of Shinil Group’s new tower.

The reckless youngest son once discarded by the chaebol family.
The free spirit no one ever expected to inherit anything.
And now, the CEO.

He welcomed her with a smile.

“Welcome!”

That dazzling, infuriating smile she wanted to wipe off his face forever.