Prologue
“So.”
The relaxed tone tickled Aejeong’s ears.
She could see the woman’s crimson lips as she lazily lifted her coffee cup with a graceful gesture and took a sip of the lukewarm drink.
Clink.
After setting her gin glass down on the table, Go Uri’s eyes flashed coldly.
> “You want me to back off.”
At the blunt declaration, Aejeong stiffened, her back instinctively straightening. She calmly responded, pressing her hand down against her knee.
> “Do you really think it’ll go that way?”
> “It will.”
What began with casual speech quickly escalated into open rudeness. Yet Aejeong swallowed her emotions and spoke with control.
> “You asked to meet, so I assumed you wanted a conclusion. That’s why I didn’t think there was any need for a long conversation.”
> “I love Yoonjae.”
As if to draw a line and say she wouldn’t waste time with long-winded arguments, Aejeong stated her piece. At those words, the mask of elegance Go woori had barely held together finally cracked.
> “How dare you? You don’t even know your place—trying to steal someone else’s fiancé and calling it love?”
> “If we’re talking about who started it first, that wasn’t me.”
> “What?”
> “Because we were first.”
It was a wordplay soaked in irony—after all, the woman sitting across from Aejeong was literally named Woori.
> “You’re disgusting.”
A sneer escaped before she realized it. Woori’s forehead pulsed with visible veins as she forced out her next words through clenched teeth.
> “Joo Aejeong. Twenty-eight. Employee at Yeongdo Group. Graduated from some no-name college. Doesn’t seem to have much to her name. Not even the ambition to chase after quick money. So how did she manage to snag Ha Yoonjae? Some incredible twist of fate? Or maybe you enrolled in a school for modern-day Cinderellas?”
Her tone was caustic, but not entirely wrong.
There had been a strange coincidence, something close to fate. Aejeong pushed up her glasses, which had slipped down the bridge of her nose, and calmly asked:
> “Did you do a background check?”
> “I’ve got the resources.”
> “Then there’s nothing stopping you.”
Woori slammed the table furiously.
Thud.
> “I’m about to lose my future husband to someone who isn’t even this or that!”
> “You’re mistaken.”
> “Excuse me?”
> “He’s not about to be taken. He already was, Woori.”
A tense red-and-blue aura shimmered behind them, invisible but palpable.
And yet, in a situation like this, the upper hand belonged to the one who remained calm—Aejeong.
Woori’s trembling hand clenched into a fist so tightly her long nails dug into her palm.
> “You’re not afraid of anything, are you?”
> “Why should I be afraid of you in this situation, Ms. Go Woori?”
> “I never gave you permission to rebel. But I get it—that’s the only card left in your hand.”
> “You!”
Her rage boiled over, face flushed red beneath layers of expensive makeup. Woori finally lost control and sprang to her feet.
Whatever composure she had maintained was now gone. Aejeong also rose from her seat.
> “You should talk things over with him. I see no reason for you and I to meet again. And even if we did, nothing would change.”
Then, as if she had been waiting for the perfect moment to shut everything down, Aejeong dropped the final bomb.
> “We’re not breaking up.”
Her bony hand cradled her belly—protectively.
Across the table, Woori’s expression twisted, her brown eyes filled with disbelief and horror.
> “No… No, no, no…”
Her face contorted in disbelief. And then her gaze dropped—to the ring on Aejeong’s finger, resting on her stomach.
Seeing Woori’s stare, Aejeong answered the unspoken question.
> “It’s his child.”
No more words were needed.
Woori’s mouth opened in a silent scream. And then fury exploded.
> “You… You disgusting things!”
Throwing aside any pretense of elegance, Woori reached across the table and grabbed Aejeong’s hand.
> “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”
As if possessed, she ripped the ring off Aejeong’s finger and flung it across the room.
Yet Aejeong remained calm—which only fueled Uri’s rage further.
> “You two will never be happy, just watch! How dare you treat me like this?! I swear I’ll ruin you both! I’ll destroy everything!”
Like a curse, Woori screamed and violently snatched her handbag before storming off.
No doubt, the entire restaurant had heard the commotion by now.
Bang!
The door slammed so hard it nearly broke.
Left alone in the room, Aejeong slowly lowered her hand from her belly.
Haa…
A deep sigh spread across the table. With tearful eyes, she muttered softly:
> “I’m sorry.”
Of course, that apology never reached the person it was meant for.
Nor did it need to.
Because—
> “I am.”
As soon as she stepped out of the room, Woori pulled out her phone and called her secretary.
> “What about the ticket? When is it? A month?”
Her heels clicked on the floor, then halted. She turned back, briefly glancing at the room she’d just exited.
> “No, there’s no need to move it up.”
A smile crept across her lips.
She recalled Aejeong’s voice, echoing faintly in her mind:
> [One month from now.]
Woori resumed walking.
> “Perfect.”
This wasn’t the story of some poor, tragic woman.
> “It’s the perfect day for a villain to make her exit.”
Because the main character of this story was me—Go Woori. Wealthy. Sharp-tongued. And abslutely unapologetic.
—
