Calin's gaze dropped further, eyes narrowing.
Yeri blinked. Did this woman just stare at her chest?
Mentally labeling her as "a pervert or mentally retarded," Yeri stepped inside.
Calin snorted and swept out, muttering something about 'padded bras'.
As she left, her envy brewed hot and green beneath her designer blazer.
Shin Keir, that cold-hearted iceberg of a man, didn't even like women—or so she thought.
And now?
Now there was a "young lady" getting gifts.
This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.
---
Yeri wasn't even slightly affected by the woman's frosty attitude. Why should she cater to a stranger's sour mood? She wasn't running for Miss Congeniality—this was a hospital, not a tea party.
Inside the office, another woman sat motionless, gazing into the distance like someone who'd just watched the last season of a tragic historical drama on loop.
She was a gentle beauty, with a neat bob haircut and a delicate frame so thin it looked like a stiff breeze might knock her over. Her eyes were vacant, haunted—like someone had accidentally deleted her soul.
A zombie? No, zombies probably had more enthusiasm.
Yeri thought, "Probably severe depression." But then again, it was a hospital—not a carnival.
Sensing Yeri's gaze, the woman offered a mechanical nod, as if her neck had been oiled for the occasion, then silently floated out of the room like a ghost on her lunch break
"Ah, I can wait outside if you still have a patient," Yeri offered politely.
Doctor Neri, who was diligently typing away at his computer, paused for a nanosecond before saying, "That was Mrs. Neri."
Yeri froze. Mrs. Neri? That zombie ghost was his wife?
"Ah... " She awkwardly scratched her cheek, trying not to picture a tragic household drama.
Doctor Neri gave no reply. No snide remark, no emotional flicker—just a cold transition to her medical records and scheduled the necessary tests with the efficiency of a man trying to speedrun a patient consultation.
Yet, something felt off. The way he said "Mrs. Neri" lacked any warmth—as if he were referring to a tax auditor instead of a spouse.
You'd expect a world-renowned surgeon's wife to be a radiant, powerful woman who booked brunch dates and spa retreats, not someone who looked like she was starring in a post-apocalyptic film.
Still, Yeri wasn't nosy. Her curiosity faded faster than soda bubbles.
Just as she turned to leave, Doctor Neri's eyes flicked to a high-end wine bag resting innocently on the coffee table.
"Wait a minute," he said, pointing at the suspiciously expensive gift.
Yeri followed his gaze, then waved her hands. "That's not mine. Two women left it earlier."
His expression darkened ever so slightly. "Alright. You may go."
Ah, the classic look of a man who detests bribes but missed his chance to publicly reject one.
---
While Yeri was at Doctor Neri's office, Jj Zhi returned to her VIP ward, only to find the room already occupied by—brace yourself—Shin Keir.
The ward itself resembled a five-star hotel suite, complete with plush furnishings, ambient lighting, and a view of the skyline that made you forget you were surrounded by sick people.
Shin Keir sat like he owned the place, legs crossed, watching TV like a mafia boss in his natural habitat.
Jj stood in the doorway, unsure whether to barge in or tiptoe away.
He had planned a dramatic confrontation—demand answers, assert his brotherly authority—but this? This was too casual. He wasn't mentally prepared for 'Shin Keir'.
'Why is he just standing there like a statue?' Shin finally noticed him and gestured toward the papers in his hand. "Is that the hospital pass? Bring it."
Jj obeyed, legs moving independently of his will. Shin Keir's aura was terrifying in the way thunder is terrifying—you know it won't kill you, but your body flinches anyway.
Secretary Yun sat nearby, multitasking like a pro. Papers in hand, Bluetooth headset in ear, laptop open—probably planning a small coup in a third-world country while explaining fiscal updates to Shin.
Ever since Shin Keir got a girlfriend, Secretary Yun had noticed something ironic: his boss smiled more but worked him harder.
Yin and yang in action.
Shin flipped through the documents, then looked up. "Your bank account?"
"Huh?" Jj blinked.
"Give me your bank account number."
Before Jj could protest, Shin had already typed it into his phone, and a notification buzzed seconds later.
Jj stared at his phone. "You... transferred me money?"
He recognized Shin's name from the transfer details. The amount wasn't just generous—it was almost suspicious.
"I brought her here, so naturally, I'm responsible. You're a college student; it's important to have sufficient savings."
Jj wanted to protest, but Shin's face said, Don't test me unless you want to be steamrolled emotionally, financially, and spiritually.
When Yeri returned, she was greeted by the oddly peaceful image of her brother watching TV with Shin Keir and Secretary Yun buried in a spreadsheet.
She blinked.
This felt like walking into a parallel universe where cats and dogs played chess together.
"You're here!" Jj leapt up like he'd just been pardoned from a cult gathering.
Yeri smiled. Wasn't he supposed to grill Shin Keir? Why did he look like someone who'd just been tamed with a tranquilizer dart?
"So, I'm discharged, right? How much is it?"
She'd told Jj to handle the bill but fully intended to repay him later—especially for the minor detail of crashing his car.
"It's all taken care of," Shin said, smoothly cutting in. "I need to speak with you, so Secretary Yun will take your brother home."
"Young Master Keir reimbursed me," Jj muttered like a kid who'd been given candy by the neighborhood gangster.
Yeri eyed the hospital pass and flipped through the bill.
$9,846?!
"Did I get treated for a cold or did someone replace my lungs with golden filters?!"
Sure, she expected it to be pricey—Doctor Neri was world-class—but this was highway robbery in a white lab coat!
Her monthly allowance was $2,000, and tuition and dorm fees were prepaid. Master Zhi made sure she couldn't splurge wildly or save secretly. Her two credit cards were also monitored—every purchase would go straight to her father's email like a snitch.
"Money's hard to earn these days," Shin added nonchalantly. "Don't refuse my compensation."
Yeri squinted. "Compensation?"
Wasn't this how he lured her into dating him the first time? Now he was doing it again. She smelled a trap.
"You had an accident in my estate. I'm liable."
'Reasonable… too reasonable.' Yeri muttered.
Secretary Yun stood and nodded. "Miss Zhi, it was good to see you again."
Jj, meanwhile, refused to budge. "I'll wait outside. We'll go back to campus together."
Before Yeri could chime in, Shin turned steely. "If I recall, your car's in for repair. You want her to take public transit right after discharge and inhale the pollution? Go. Don't worry—your sister won't harm me."
Yeri's brain short-circuited. Excuse me?
Damn villain, are you not afraid of biting your own tongue? Harm who?
Jj looked at his sister like he expected a sudden confession. Was there something he didn't know?
Yeri snorted. Harm him? Please. If anything, she needed hazard pay for dealing with him.
Though, if he slipped up and violated their "relationship agreement," she'd finally have an excuse to bail.
Seeing her smirk, Shin narrowed his eyes. That woman was up to something. Too bad—he was five steps ahead.
"Fine. Wait in the car," he relented.
Yeri blinked again. Huh? That easy? Maybe he wasn't as unyielding as the rumors claimed.
Jj sighed in relief, trying to pat Yeri's head in goodbye but caught Secretary Yun's deadly side-eye as if saying 'Not done wasting my minutes?'
"Let's go," Secretary Yun said with military crispness.
Once they were gone, Yeri turned to Shin. "When did I ever harm you?"
"You put me to bed, then said you wanted to break up. Isn't that emotional sabotage?"
Yeri stared. I admire your thick face. Why aren't you a lawyer?
"Fine, I'd like to return to my dorm."
He looked at her—softly this time—and pulled out a small velvet box.
Inside was a rose-gold bracelet with a round, pink diamond. "Happy birthday. It took me a while to get this made."
Yeri froze.
Oh my God, he remembered.
She had joked about a birthday present during their very first conversation—more like a sarcastic jab—but this man… this lunatic… took it seriously?
"I thought you liked pink," Shin added. "If you don't like this style, just toss it. I'll get another one."
Toss it? Was he crazy?
Custom-made? Pink diamond? Did he want her to faint?
"I like it," she whispered. "Thank you."
Good. She asked for it—she wasn't about to play hard to get like a drama queen.
Shin smiled. Just a small smile. But it made him feel oddly… warm.
They headed to the parking lot where Secretary Yun and Jj were waiting.
Unbeknownst to them, in another part of the lot, Calin Ricci and her manager were hiding from paparazzi like fugitives.
"Are they gone?" Calin hissed.
"You're a supermodel, a TV host, and an aristocrat," said Manager Lyn, sugar-coating the situation. "It's natural for them to follow you."
Normally, Calin thrived on this praise, but not today.
Then, through the windshield, she spotted Shin Keir.
Her pulse quickened—until she noticed the woman beside him.
Her mood sank deeper when her eyes caught Shin Keir… helping a woman into a car, hand protectively on her head.
The shocked. The betrayal.
Is she that 'young lady' mentioned? What is her relationship with Shin Keir?
Calin's eyes narrowed, blood boiling as the car door closed gently behind them.