“Are you serious about this?”

Lee Hana’s voice trembled as she flipped through the contract, eyes scanning the neatly typed clauses over and over as if they might change if she stared long enough.

“Like… seriously serious?”

Kang Jae-Hyun leaned back in his chair, one eyebrow lifting slightly.

“Do I look like someone who jokes?”

She looked up at him, then back down at the papers. “This is insane. I don’t know you. You don’t know me. And you want me to pretend to be your fiancée?”

“You’re understanding the situation perfectly.”

Her fingers paused at a highlighted paragraph.

“This clause about public displays of affection,” she said cautiously. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” he replied calmly, “that in public you’ll hold my hand, smile, and behave like a woman in love. And if necessary—kiss me.”

“K-Kiss you?” Her voice jumped.

“It’s a relationship, Miss Lee. You’ve kissed someone before.”

“That’s not the point!” she snapped. “This feels like a drama plot.”

“And yet,” he said evenly, “here you are. No one is forcing you. You’re free to walk away.”

Her gaze drifted to the numbers at the bottom of the page.

₩10,000,000 upfront.

Additional payments per public appearance.

Performance bonus.

Her throat tightened.

She could pay her mother’s medical bills.

Secure Ji-Ho’s education.

Breathe for the first time in months.

“You said one month?” she asked quietly.

“Thirty days.”

“And after that?”

“We announce a mutual breakup. Clean. Quiet. You return to your life.”

“What if someone finds out?”

“Then I handle it,” he said, eyes sharpening. “But if you betray this agreement, there will be legal consequences.”

She closed the folder slowly.

“…Can I sleep on it?”

“You have until tomorrow morning. Eight a.m.”

Later That Night — Hana’s Apartment

Hana lay awake on her narrow mattress, staring at the ceiling.

Her mother coughed softly in the next room.

Ji-Ho mumbled in his sleep.

She reached into her bag and pulled out the contract, spreading it across her bed.

“Just thirty days,” she whispered.

Thirty days of pretending.

Thirty days of survival.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

Next Morning — JH Group, 7:58 a.m.

Hana stepped into Jae-Hyun’s office, the signed contract clenched in her hand.

Without a word, she placed it on his desk.

“I’ll do it.”

He glanced up, unsurprised.

“A wise decision.”

“I have conditions.”

That caught his attention.

“One,” she said firmly, “no kissing unless absolutely necessary.”

“Define absolutely.”

“When cameras are in our faces.”

He smirked. “Accepted.”

“Two. I keep my part-time jobs.”

“I’ll adjust your schedule.”

“Three. Separate rooms.”

“You think I want to share a bed with a stranger?”

She huffed. “You’re the one paying me to act in love.”

“Fine. Separate rooms.”

She hesitated.

“And don’t fall in love with me.”

Silence.

Then—he laughed. Genuinely.

“I can promise you,” he said, “that won’t be a problem.”

“Why me?” she asked quietly.

“You’re invisible. No scandals. No ambition toward me.”

He stepped closer. “And you follow rules.”

“I’m not a puppet.”

“No,” he agreed softly. “But you’re reliable.”

She swallowed.

“And what do I get?”

“A new apartment. All expenses covered. And enough money to change your life.”

The room went still.

That Evening

Hana returned once more.

She placed the signed contract on his desk.

“I’m in.”

Jae-Hyun opened a drawer and removed a velvet box.

He opened it.

A diamond ring caught the light.

“We need it to look real,” he said calmly. “My grandmother notices everything.”

As he slid the ring onto her finger, Hana’s breath hitched.

Fake or not—

Something had just changed.

The silence inside the elevator was unbearable.

Lee Hana stood rigidly near the corner, her eyes fixed on the glowing floor numbers as they climbed higher—sixteen… seventeen… eighteen.

Beside her, Kang Jae-Hyun stood like a carved statue. Arms crossed. Expression unreadable. Not a single word since they stepped in.

“So…” Hana cleared her throat, desperate to break the tension. “This elevator is really fast.”

No response.

She tried again. “I think it’s racing my heartbeat.”

Still nothing.

She glanced sideways.

He was staring straight ahead, jaw tight, as if conversation itself offended him.

Awkward.

Ding.

The doors slid open onto the executive floor.

“Follow me,” he said curtly, stepping out.

“Yes, sir.”

The hallway was sleek and intimidatingly quiet, lined with glass walls and abstract art. Hana’s heels echoed as they stopped in front of a large office.

“This is your desk,” Jae-Hyun said, gesturing to a minimalist workstation just outside his office. “You don’t touch my personal files. You don’t change my schedule without approval. And you speak only when necessary.”

“…Understood.”

“And don’t spill coffee on me again.”

She blinked. “You’re still holding onto that?”

His eyes flicked to her. “Just don’t.”

She muttered, “Copy that, Ice—”

“Excuse me?”

“—nice office,” she said quickly. “Very… icy. I mean elegant.”

He stared at her for a moment, then turned and shut his office door.

Hana slumped into her chair.

“This is going to be a long month.”

Her desk was spotless. Expensive monitor. No personal items. It felt more like a test station than a workspace.

Her phone buzzed.

Minji: You’re alive?? What’s he like?

Hana: Cold. Rich. Terrifying.

Minji: You okay??

Hana: I think so. Pray for me.

Before she could type more—

“Miss Lee.”

She jumped to her feet. “Yes, sir!”

Jae-Hyun handed her a file. “Scan, organize, and forward these to the board secretary. Thirty minutes.”

“Yes, sir.”

Her fingers brushed his briefly.

Both froze.

He pulled back first. “And don’t stare.”

“I wasn’t!”

One eyebrow lifted. Then he disappeared back into his office.

She exhaled. “Focus. Survive.”

At noon, a call came through.

“CEO’s office. Lee Hana speaking.”

“Is Jae-Hyun available?”

The voice was female. Cool. Sharp.

“May I ask who’s calling?”

“Yoo Mi-Ran.”

Hana stiffened. The ex-fiancée.

She knocked lightly on Jae-Hyun’s door.

“Come in.”

“Miss Yoo Mi-Ran is on the line.”

His expression darkened. “Tell her I’m unavailable.”

The call ended seconds later—with an icy warning.

Hana stared at the phone.

“…Noted.”

Later, during lunch, a man dropped into the seat across from her.

“You look traumatized,” he said cheerfully. “First day?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“I’m Soo-Jin. HR.”

“Hana. Professional coffee spiller.”

He laughed. “You’ll fit in just fine.”

The afternoon meeting was brutal.

Executives. Numbers. Pressure.

At one point—

“Miss Lee,” Jae-Hyun said calmly, “what’s the projected budget difference on the SeoMin deal?”

Her heart stopped.

“…I’m not sure.”

He nodded. “Correct. You’re not expected to be.”

A ripple of laughter passed the table.

Afterward, he spoke quietly as they walked back.

“You held your composure.”

“Barely.”

“Still counts.”

Her heart skipped. Praise?

Near closing time, Mi-Ran appeared outside the office, her gaze sharp.

“So you’re the new secretary,” she said sweetly. “Be careful. Jae-Hyun doesn’t like distractions.”

Hana met her eyes calmly. “I’m just doing my job.”

Mi-Ran smiled thinly. “We’ll see.”

That evening, Hana returned to her desk exhausted but upright.

Jae-Hyun passed by, pausing briefly.

“You did better than expected.”

She looked up. “Thank you.”

“Don’t get comfortable.”

She smiled faintly. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

As he walked away, Hana whispered to herself—

“This world is terrifying… but I’m not backing down.”

Lee Hana arrived at JH Group headquarters at exactly 8:57 a.m.

Not a minute late. Not under his watch.

She adjusted the cuffs of her blazer as she passed through the glass doors, offering a polite nod to the receptionist who barely looked up. That familiar feeling crept in again-being invisible-until she stepped onto the executive floor.

The air there was different. Cooler. Quieter. Heavy with authority.

Before she could even place her bag on her desk, the intercom buzzed.

"Come in."

No greeting. No good morning. Just Kang Jae-Hyun's calm, cold voice.

Hana picked up her notepad and entered his office.

He sat behind his desk, sleeves rolled up, eyes fixed on his screen. "Schedule," he said without looking at her.

"Yes, sir. Finance review at ten, lunch with the board chair at noon, and-"

"Cancel the lunch."

She paused. "Cancel it... completely?"

"Yes."

"...Understood."

"And coffee. Black. No sugar."

She hesitated. "From the café downstairs or the one across the street?"

He finally glanced up. "Which one did you get yesterday?"

"The street café."

"That one."

She nodded and turned to leave.

"Miss Lee."

She stopped.

"You're more opinionated than most assistants."

She blinked. "Is that... bad?"

"They lasted an average of two weeks," he said calmly. "One cried. One quit. One transferred departments. Another faked appendicitis."

Hana bit back a laugh. "And yet here I am."

He studied her for a long moment. "Yes. Here you are."

Silence settled between them.

Then, unexpectedly-"Are you free this evening?"

Her spine stiffened. "Sir?"

"I need a plus one for an investor event. You'll accompany me."

She stared. "Me? Why not PR?"

"I chose you. Six-thirty. Formal."

"Is this... work-related?"

His lips curved faintly. "Everything is work-related."

The conversation was clearly over.

10:12 a.m. - Finance Meeting Room

Hana sat slightly behind Jae-Hyun, pen flying across her notebook as executives discussed projections and losses. The room felt tense.

At one point, the head of marketing fumbled a figure.

Jae-Hyun's voice cut through the room. "You've had those numbers since last week, Mr. Cho. If you're unprepared, say so."

The silence was brutal.

Hana scribbled faster, her fingers tense.

As they left the room, she muttered, "You scare your staff."

"I pay them to deliver," he replied. "Not to relax."

"...There's a middle ground."

He didn't answer-but the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

That Evening

At 6:10 p.m., a sleek black car pulled up outside Hana's apartment.

The gala was overwhelming-crystal chandeliers, flowing gowns, sharp suits, power dripping from every corner.

Jae-Hyun looped his arm through hers. "Relax."

"I am relaxed."

He smirked. "Sure."

He introduced her smoothly. "This is Hana. My assistant."

The investors smiled politely. Hana felt his presence beside her-steady, protective.

Later, on the balcony overlooking the city, she finally asked, "Why me?"

"You don't flinch," he said. "You're honest."

"...I like that."

Her heart skipped.

When a drunk executive approached her later, Jae-Hyun stepped in immediately. "She's with me."

The man backed off.

"Thank you," she whispered.

His voice softened. "Stay close."

The Next Day

Hana arrived early again.

During a meeting, Jae-Hyun suddenly said, "Miss Lee. Your thoughts on the marketing proposal?"

All eyes turned to her.

She inhaled. "The digital strategy lacks engagement with younger demographics. Influencer partnerships might help."

Jae-Hyun nodded. "Not bad."

Praise. Rare. Dangerous.

Later, while reviewing contracts, she noticed an inconsistency.

"Article 14B contradicts Clause 6," she said quietly.

He took the file, scanned it-and froze.

"You're right."

Her heart pounded.

"Keep going," he said.

The Call

Mid-afternoon, Hana's phone buzzed.

Her brother's school.

"He has a fever," the voice said.

She stood up, panicked. "Sir, I-I need to-"

"Go," Jae-Hyun said immediately.

She stared.

"I said go."

Tears burned her eyes. "Thank you."

As she rushed out, he watched her go, something unfamiliar tightening in his chest.

That Night

He called her back into his office and slid a black envelope across the desk.

"What's this?"

"A formal invitation. Family dinner."

Her stomach dropped. "Family?"

"You're my fiancée," he said coolly. "Remember?"

"That wasn't in the contract."

"It is now."

Saturday Evening - Kang Family Estate

The estate was breathtaking.

Hana stood frozen as Jae-Hyun's grandmother approached-elegant, sharp-eyed.

"So you're Lee Hana."

Hana bowed deeply. "It's an honor."

The woman smiled faintly. "We'll speak later."

Dinner was tense.

When Yoo Mi-Ran arrived, elegant and icy, the air shifted instantly.

Mi-Ran's questions were sharp. Jae-Hyun cut in smoothly each time.

"Leave Hana alone, Mi-Ran."

"Be nice," his grandmother warned. "She's family."

His grandfather finally spoke. "Enough. Eat."

When dinner ended, Jae-Hyun stood. "Thank you for dinner, Grandpa. It's late."

"Take care of Hana," the old man said knowingly.

Mi-Ran left in visible anger.

As the car pulled away, Hana exhaled shakily.

"Welcome to my family," Jae-Hyun said quietly.

She laughed softly. "Terrifying."

He glanced at her. "You did well."

Under his watchful eyes, Hana realized one thing clearly-

This contract wasn't just business anymore