Ji-Eun's POV
Ji-eun didn't sleep.
By dawn, she'd scrubbed every inch of their tiny apartment, her hands raw from bleach and her mind replaying him—Kang Joon-hyuk's unreadable eyes, the way he'd dismissed her gratitude like it was nothing.
"I don't want your money."
Then what? Favors? Silence? Another twisted game?
Her phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number:
"My office. 9 AM."
No signature. None needed.
Her stomach lurched. So it begins.
---
Joon-Hyuk's POV
Joon-hyuk watched her from his office window as she entered Kang Enterprises, her steps stiff but chin lifted. Even in her worn-out blazer, she carried herself like someone who'd learned to survive storms.
(He knew the feeling.)
His secretary's voice crackled through the intercom. "Sir, Miss Han is here."
"Send her in."
The door opened. Ji-eun stood frozen on the threshold, her fingers clenched around her bag strap.
"Sit," he said, nodding to the chair across from his desk.
She didn't move. "Why am I here?"
Joon-hyuk leaned back, steepling his fingers. "You said you'd repay me."
Her breath hitched. "Name your price."
A dangerous glint flickered in his eyes. "Work for me."
"I do work for you."
"Not at the company." He held her gaze. "At my home."
Ji-eun's face drained of color. "Excuse me?"
"My grandmother," he clarified coolly, "requires a live-in caretaker. The last one quit. You'll cook, clean, and ensure she takes her medication."
Ji-eun's nails dug into her palms. "You're blackmailing me into being a maid ?"
"I'm offering you a job with triple your current salary." He slid a contract across the desk. "And your brother's record stays clean."
Her eyes burned. "How generous."
Joon-hyuk stood, circling the desk until he loomed over her. "Say no, and walk away. But we both know you can't afford to."
The truth of it choked her. Medical bills. Min-jae's tuition. Their crumbling ceiling.
She snatched the pen. "How long?"
"Six months."
Her signature was a slash of ink, a surrender.
Joon-hyuk took the contract, their fingers brushing—a spark that made him jerk back as if burned.
"Pack your things," he said, turning away. "You move in tonight."
"W..hat tonight , But what about my partime jobs " Ji-eun said thinking she needs to visit her mother also .
"You can call them and tell that you quit " He said going through the files without looking at me .
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Ji-Eun's POV
The Kang mansion was a monster of glass and steel, looming over Seoul like a castle.
A butler led Ji-eun to a guest room—no, a servant's room—smaller than her apartment's bathroom but pristine. Her duffel bag looked pathetic on the king-sized bed.
A knock.
She expected Joon-hyuk. Instead, an elderly woman with sharp eyes and silver hair stood there, leaning on a cane.
"So you're the girl my grandson dragged home." The dowager Kang smirked. "He didn't mention you were pretty."
Ji-eun bowed hastily. "Ma'am, I'm just—"
"Save the excuses." The woman hobbled past her, eyeing the unpacked bag. "Joon-hyuk thinks I need a babysitter. I think he needs a therapist." She snorted. "But since you're here—make me tea. And call me Halmeoni."
Ji-eun blinked. "...Yes, Halmeoni."
As she hurried to the kitchen, she heard the old woman mutter:
"And don't fall in love with that idiot. He'll only break your heart."
Ji-eun's hands froze around the teapot.
Too late.
---
Joon-Hyuk's POV
Joon-hyuk found her in the kitchen at midnight, scrubbing an already-spotless counter.
"You're not paid to clean obsessively," he said.
Ji-eun didn't turn. "Why really bring me here?"
Silence. Then—
"Halmeoni likes you."
A lie. His grandmother had terrorized every caretaker within a week. Yet she'd smiled at Ji-eun's terrible tea.
Ji-eun finally faced him, arms crossed. "You expect me to believe this is about familybonding ?"
Moonlight through the window caught the defiance in her eyes, the stubborn set of her jaw. Something primal twisted in his chest.
"No," he admitted, stepping closer. "It's not."
Her breath faltered as he caged her against the counter.
"Then what—"
The alarm on his phone blared. Park Min-ah: 12 missed calls.
Reality crashed back.
Joon-hyuk stepped away, jaw clenched. "Go to bed, Ji-eun."
This time, she didn't argue.
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Joon-Hyuk's POV
Alone in his study, he poured whiskey he didn't drink.
Why bring her here?
The contract said debt.
His pulse said something far more dangerous.