Chapter 3: The Man Behind the Mask
Morning light spilled through the half-open blinds of Lee's apartment, casting golden stripes across the floor. The city buzzed outside, but inside, it was quiet unnaturally so.
Lee sat in front of the mirror, bare-faced, a silk robe tied loosely at his waist. His reflection stared back at him, half man, half woman, eyes haunted by questions that kept circling in his mind like wolves.
"Who do they love?" he whispered."Lee, or Lia?"
He reached for a pair of earrings on the vanity, hesitated, then dropped them back into the drawer. Today, he would be Lee. Just Lee. No lashes. No lipstick. No illusions.
But even as he dressed in neutral clothes, he couldn't shed the invisible layers. The weight of pretending. The confusion of being wanted by people who didn't know the full story.
The door buzzed.
Lee glanced at the clock. 6:27 a.m. No one visited him this early.
Cautiously, he opened the door a crack.
A bouquet of deep red peonies greeted him, their petals heavy with dew. No card. No name.
Just a ribbon tied around the stems.
Black silk.
Lee's stomach flipped. His gaze darted up and down the hallway. Empty.
He brought the flowers inside and set them on the kitchen counter, staring at them like they might explode. Because he knew who sent them.
Leejoon.
A warning disguised as affection.
Across the city, Leejoon stood in his office, staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows of his tower, one hand wrapped around a tumbler of whiskey despite the early hour.
"Boss," a voice came through his earpiece. "The drop went clean. No witnesses. But…"
"But what?" Leejoon asked sharply.
"We're not sure, but someone might be following the Lia girl."
His shoulders tensed. "Who?"
"We're still checking. Could be paparazzi… or someone hungrier."
Leejoon turned from the window, eyes like steel. "No one touches her. If someone does"
"They die," the voice finished.
He clicked off the comm and set the glass down, his fingers tightening around the edge of the desk.
Lia wasn't just another pretty face to him. There was something different about her about him.
Leejoon had seen a thousand women, seduced a hundred more. But none of them ever looked at him the way she did. With fear, curiosity… and something resembling pain. A secret pain.
He recognized it because it mirrored his own.
Later that afternoon, Lee arrived at the fashion studio only to be pulled aside by the CEO's daughter, Minah.
She was dressed in a white pantsuit that screamed elegance and power, her smile as bright as her father's money.
"Lee!" she called sweetly, linking her arm with his. "I need your opinion on something."
He followed her into her private office, where a mood board of fashion inspiration covered the walls, along with sketches, color palettes, and swatches of lace and leather.
"I've been thinking," Minah said, twirling a pen in her fingers. "About love."
Lee raised a brow. "Oh?"
"I believe everyone has a soulmate. Even someone like you."
He tensed. "Someone like me?"
"You're… different," she said, her voice dropping. "There's something rare about you, Lee. You're soft and strong at the same time. Feminine, but not weak. I find that fascinating."
Lee stepped back subtly. "Minah"
"I know my father favors you," she said, walking closer. "But I don't care. I don't care if anyone else loves you. I want to know if you love me."
He blinked, heart hammering in his chest. "I…"
I'm not who you think I am.
Before he could answer, the CEO himself barged in. "Minah, stop playing around. Lee, I need you downstairs. Now."
Minah sighed, offering him a wink. "We're not done talking."
Lee followed her father out in silence, panic rising like a tide. He was falling deeper into this dangerous game. One man. Two lives. Three hearts hanging in the balance.
That evening, Lee snuck out as Lia for a photoshoot. But instead of the arranged location, a driver redirected him to an unfamiliar rooftop, overlooking the city.
The air was cool, the sky darkening to violet.
He stepped out of the car, heels clicking, gown shimmering in the moonlight.
And there he was Leejoon, sitting on the ledge like a shadow prince, wind tousling his black hair.
"You came," he said.
"I didn't have much choice, did I?"
Leejoon stood slowly. "You always have a choice. Even in fear."
"I'm not afraid," Lia replied though her voice betrayed her.
He walked toward her, slow and deliberate. "You are. But not of me."
She didn't answer.
He stopped inches from her. "I know you're lying about who you are."
Her breath caught. "W-what?"
"I don't care if you're not really a model. I don't care if you're hiding something. But I do care about being lied to."
Lee's heart pounded. He doesn't know the full truth. But he suspects something.
"Why me?" Lee asked softly. "You could have anyone."
Leejoon smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Because you make me forget the blood on my hands."
Silence.
Lee felt something crack in his chest. A pull. A dangerous ache.
"You're dangerous," he whispered.
"And yet you came," Leejoon said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
They stood there between skyline and stars, secrets and silence.
Neither dared to move.
Leejoon stepped back. "Next time, wear something warmer."
And just like that, he turned and disappeared into the night.
Lee stood frozen, trembling not from fear, but from something worse.
Want.
That same night, in a dark alley downtown, a man screamed as he was dragged into the shadows.
Leejoon's men watched coldly as their boss handled the traitor himself.
No bullets this time.
Just fists. And silence. And a storm in his eyes.
After it was done, Leejoon wiped his hands clean and lit a cigarette, the glow illuminating his jaw.
"Find out who's been following her," he said. "And find out who he really is."
The flames of war were coming.
And love would be caught in the crossfire.
To be continued…