The morning sun filtered softly through the towering windows of the Ahn estate as Mian walked through the gates, her steps steady but heart slightly anxious. She had heard whispers from the other staff—Mr. Jin Ahn was still at home.
Most mornings, he was gone before the sun fully rose, leaving the mansion shrouded in silence. But today, the air felt different—he was still somewhere inside. The thought of him lingered at the back of her mind like a shadow she couldn't shake.
Still, she focused on her work. Mian started as usual—dusting the grand stair railings, polishing the antique vases, and wiping down the gleaming marble counters. Every movement was precise, every task done with care. She wanted to prove herself, not just to her employers, but to herself.
After finishing the general cleaning, she made her way to the west wing.
Jin's room.
She hesitated outside the black door, the warning from her first day echoing in her memory. But she had been told he hadn't left the house, so surely, he would've heard her if he were inside.
Knock. Knock.
No response.
The door was slightly ajar. Mian leaned in, peeking cautiously.
"Hello? Sir?"
Still nothing. The room appeared empty. After a moment's pause, she pushed the door open quietly and stepped inside, gently closing it behind her.
The room was grand but surprisingly minimal—masculine hues, dark wood, clean lines. Everything was in its place, yet the space didn't feel warm. It felt untouched, like its owner didn't spend much time in it. As she worked, her eyes landed on a single object that stood out against the cool décor—a delicate white flower sitting alone on the mahogany desk.
She approached it, drawn by its quiet beauty.
A camellia, she thought, touching the soft petals. Its fragrance was sweet, almost romantic.
"This must be for his girlfriend," she murmured, smiling as she lifted the bloom closer to her face to take in the scent.
"Ahem."
The sound jolted her.
She froze.
Her hand dropped the flower back to the desk with a soft thud. Slowly, she turned around—and her breath caught.
There he was.
Jin Ahn stood just a few feet away, fresh from the shower. His damp black hair clung to his forehead, and he wore only a robe and boxers, exposing a toned chest and a body carved like stone. Water glistened on his skin. He looked like a painting—striking and severe.
"I—I'm so sorry, sir!" Mian blurted out, immediately turning her face away, eyes fixed on the floor.
He didn't move. "Apology accepted."
His voice was deep, smooth, like velvet dipped in shadows.
Mian kept her eyes down, cheeks burning. She could feel the heat crawling up her neck.
"What's your name?" he asked, though he already knew the answer. He had wanted to hear it directly from her lips.
"And look at me when I'm speaking to you," he added with quiet firmness.
Mian turned hesitantly, catching a glimpse of his chest again. Flustered, her gaze dropped right back to the floor. "Mian… sir," she whispered.
Jin's lips curved into the faintest smile. Still so polite. "I'm Jin," he said simply, turning to his wardrobe. "Continue your work. I'll be heading out soon."
She gave a small nod and resumed cleaning, careful to avoid glancing in his direction again.
When she was done, she turned to him. "Would you need anything else, sir?"
Jin looked at her. Her voice was soft, almost melodic. "No."
She bowed and walked briskly out of the room.
As the door closed behind her, Jin stood still for a moment, a strange calm washing over him.
She's nothing like I remembered… or maybe everything. He recalled a younger version of her—playful, loud, daring. And now here she was: quiet, composed, almost too calm.
He needed to know more.
Clutching a stack of business files, he stepped out of his room and summoned his bodyguard. "Find out more about Mian. Family, background… everything."
The bodyguard nodded without question.
Evening crept over the estate like a velvet curtain. Mian packed up her things and prepared to leave. Her day had been long—and unexpectedly intense. Her heart hadn't stopped racing since she'd left Jin's room.
Just as she stepped out the gate, headlights bathed her in golden light. A sleek black car pulled up beside her. The window rolled down.
Inside, Jin sat silently.
His bodyguard stepped out and approached her. "Mr. Ahn says you should get in."
Mian blinked in surprise. "Oh… thank you, but I'll be fine. I can get home myself."
"The boss insists," the bodyguard said, more firmly this time.
She hesitated, clutching her bag. Then she relented. "Alright."
She slipped into the backseat, sitting as far from Jin as the space allowed. "Thank you, sir," she said softly, barely above a whisper.
"You're welcome," he replied, his eyes still on his tablet, though he wasn't reading anything.
When she offered to be dropped off nearby so she could walk the rest of the way, they ignored her and asked her for precise directions instead. Mian gave them with a reluctant smile.
When they finally reached her neighborhood, she looked at Jin. "Thank you again."
He gave a small grunt, almost a hum. "Mm."
She stepped out and walked toward her door. Jin watched until she disappeared inside.
"Ma, I'm home," Mian called out as she entered.
Her mother looked up from her seat, knitting in her lap. "Welcome, my princess."
Mian dropped her bag and sighed. "Long day."
"How was work today?"
"It was… fine," she said with a tired but genuine smile.
Just then, her mother tilted her head. "Who was that who just dropped you off?"
Mian froze.
"Oh… that was my boss," she said casually.
Her mother squinted with mock suspicion. "Hmm. I thought maybe you finally found yourself a boyfriend."
Mian burst into laughter. "Ma!"
"I'm just saying," her mom teased, laughing with her.
But behind her laughter, Mian couldn't stop thinking about Jin's eyes, the way he had looked at her… like he was trying to solve a puzzle. Like he remembered something.
She didn't know yet that he remembered everything.