The email arrived at 3:17 AM.
Mira had been awake, staring at the ceiling, when her phone buzzed. The sender's name made her sit bolt upright.
From: Kang Dae-won
Subject: Information You Might Find Useful
Attached was a single file—a series of encrypted financial transactions between Han Group and several offshore accounts, all linked to Eun-ji's personal assistant. The amounts were staggering. The dates corresponded with every major scandal that had hit Jae's company.
But the most damning part?
A recorded phone call.
Eun-ji's voice, crisp and venomous:
"Make sure the prototype leak traces back to Park Group's old engineers. I want Jae to think his own people betrayed him."
Mira's fingers trembled as she forwarded it to Jae.
His reply came in seconds:
"We move at dawn."
---
Mira wasn't expecting company.
She had just stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a robe, when the doorbell rang. Assuming it was a delivery, she opened the door without thinking.
Eun-ji stood there, her perfect facade cracked, her eyes wild.
Before Mira could react, Eun-ji's palm connected with her cheek—a sharp, stinging slap that snapped her head to the side.
"You ruin everything," Eun-ji hissed, her voice trembling with rage. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"
Mira touched her stinging cheek, her pulse roaring in her ears.
Eun-ji stepped inside uninvited, her designer heels clicking against the hardwood. "You think you've won? That pathetic little company of his is nothing. And you?" She laughed, cold and brittle. "You're just a charity case he'll outgrow."
Mira's fingers curled into fists.
Eun-ji wasn't done. "You don't belong in his world. You never did. You're just a stuttering, broken mess who latched onto the first man who pitied you."
Silence.
Then—
Mira exhaled.
And for the first time in her life, the words came without hesitation.
"You're wrong."
Eun-ji blinked.
Mira stepped forward, her voice steady, her gaze unflinching. "I didn't latch onto him. He chose me. Not because he pitied me. Not because I fit into some perfect mold. But because I'm the one person who never asked him to be anything other than himself."
Eun-ji's lips parted, but no sound came out.
Mira continued, her voice gaining strength. "You've spent your whole life chasing a man who never wanted you. And instead of facing that truth, you blamed me. But the problem was never me, Eun-ji. It was you."
Eun-ji's composure shattered. "You—!"
"No." Mira cut her off. "You don't get to talk anymore. You don't get to hurt him. And you definitely don't get to stand in my home and act like you're better than me."
A beat of stunned silence.
Then—
Eun-ji lunged.
Mira sidestepped, catching her wrist mid-swing. "I'm done being afraid of you."
The door swung open.
Jae stood there, his expression dark, his phone raised—recording.
"Perfect timing," he said, his voice dangerously calm. "The police will be here soon. I'm sure they'd love to hear about the assault. And the embezzlement. And the industrial sabotage."
Eun-ji paled. "You—you can't prove anything."
Jae smirked. "We already did."
---
The scandal exploded within hours.
Eun-ji's leaked financial records, the damning phone call, even security footage of her slapping Mira—it all flooded the media.
Han Group's stocks plummeted.
Park Group issued a formal statement severing all ties with the Han family.
And Jae?
He stood beside Mira at a press conference, his hand in hers, as he announced his company's new partnership with Hanover Industries—a deal that would secure their future.
Reporters shouted questions:
"Mr. Park, how does it feel to finally clear your name?"
"Ms. Yoon, what's next for you?"
Jae squeezed Mira's hand, letting her take the lead.
She smiled. "We move forward."
---
The envelope arrived on a quiet Sunday morning, thick cream paper embossed with the Park family seal. Jae stared at it on the kitchen counter, his coffee cooling beside it.
Mira watched him from the doorway, her own mug cradled in her hands. "Are you going to open it?"
Jae exhaled sharply through his nose and picked it up.
Inside was not a summons, not a demand—just a simple invitation.
Jae,
Come to the house for tea. Just us. No conditions.
—Father
Mira's fingers tightened around her mug. "What do you think he wants?"
Jae turned the card over in his hands. "No idea. But I guess we're about to find out."
---
The Park family estate loomed as it always had—imposing, immaculate, a fortress of old money and older expectations. But this time, when Jae stepped through the doors, it wasn't his father's cold disapproval that greeted him.
It was silence.
Chairman Park sat in his study, tea already poured, his posture rigid but his expression unreadable.
"You came," he said.
Jae didn't sit. "You asked."
A beat. Then his father gestured to the chair across from him. "Sit. Please."
The please threw him.
Jae sat.
For a long moment, neither spoke. The grandfather clock in the corner ticked loudly, measuring the silence.
Finally, his father set down his cup. "I owe you an apology."
Jae's fingers stilled on the armrest.
His father continued, his voice quieter than Jae had ever heard it. "I spent years trying to mold you into something you weren't. I told myself it was for the company. For the family. But the truth is, I was afraid."
Jae frowned. "Afraid of what?"
"Of you." His father met his gaze, and for the first time, Jae saw something unfamiliar in his eyes—respect. "You've built something from nothing. Without the Park name. Without my approval. And it's thriving."
Jae's chest tightened.
His father exhaled. "I was wrong. About you. About her."
The admission hung between them, fragile as glass.
Then his father reached into his desk drawer and slid a folder across the table. "I'd like to offer you something."
Jae opened it.
Inside were the financials for Park Group's real estate division—luxury condominiums, commercial developments, the very projects Jae had overseen before everything fell apart.
His father's voice was steady. "It's yours. If you want it."
Jae stared at the papers, his pulse loud in his ears. "Why?"
"Because it's what you're good at," his father said simply. "And because I'd rather see you lead it than watch someone else run it into the ground."
For the first time in years, Jae saw not the imposing chairman, but a man who had spent a lifetime building an empire—only to realize too late that his heir had outgrown it.
His father stood, straightening his suit jacket. "No conditions. No strings. Just an offer."
Jae looked up. "And if I say no?"
His father's lips quirked—just slightly. "Then I'll know I raised a man who doesn't need my approval to succeed."
The words settled between them, heavy and true.
Jae closed the folder. "I'll think about it."
His father nodded. "That's all I ask."
---
Mira was waiting by the window when Jae returned, her face unreadable. "Well?"
Jae set the folder on the table. "He offered me the real estate division."
Mira's brows lifted. "Just like that?"
"Just like that."
She studied him. "Are you going to take it?"
Jae crossed to her, his hands finding hers. "Only if you're with me."
Mira's breath caught.
Jae squeezed her fingers. "We decide together. No more running. No more hiding. Just us—building the future we want."
Mira leaned into him, her forehead resting against his shoulder. "Then let's build something amazing."
Outside, the city stretched before them—not as a battlefield, but as a canvas.
And for the first time, they held the brush.