Face to Face

The next morning after your meeting at Irene's house it dawned sunny over Seoul. Upstairs at the Irene Group, the atmosphere was the same as always, but to anyone who knew how to observe, something had changed in your usual manner.

You left the bitter coffee on the president's desk without adding your usual "good morning." You didn't stay to review the day’s agenda aloud; you simply put down the leather folder and retreated to your office before she could even look up from her monitor.

Irene raised an eyebrow, taken aback by your sudden dryness, but her pride prevented her from asking.

At lunchtime, you had a meeting. You drove the company car—the same one that still faintly smelled of Irene’s perfume from that morning—to the parking lot of a luxurious fine-dining restaurant a few blocks from the company. One you used to frequent with your boss.

But that day, your date was a completely different person.

As you entered, the clinking of crystal glasses and the murmur of the business elite enveloped you. At the back table, by the large window, she was waiting for you.

Ning Yizhuo wore an impeccable cream-colored tailored suit. She wasn't just an old friend from college; she was also the heiress to a fashion giant that had been trying to dethrone the Irene Group for years.

And besides that, your personal history had been somewhat turbulent during your student years. You shared a past of tangled sheets that neither of you ever tried to hide.

“I still don’t understand how you can be so loyal to that old demon,” Ningning remarked mid-meal, elegantly sipping her white wine. “I heard you turned down Prada, Versace, and Balenciaga all in the same year.”

“She’s only thirty-five, Ning.” You countered, adjusting your shirt cuffs. “She’s the youngest CEO in the industry and the one who’s grown her company the most in the last decade. You don’t even hold your father’s position yet.”

“We could do great things together if you accept my offer,” she insisted, leaning across the table with a smile. “Projections indicate that in five years we’ll be on par with the Irene Group. Come with me. I’ll give you the expansion department.”

“I’ve already made this clear to you. I don’t plan on leaving Joohyun to go to the competition. I may be many things, Yizhuo, but I’ll never be a traitor.”

Ningning stopped, the glass halfway to her lips. Her eyes narrowed, sparkling with pure amusement.

"This is the first time you've used her real name with me. Something's happened between you two, hasn't it?"

You stopped cutting the piece of meat immediately, internally reprimanding yourself for having made that mistake.

“Don’t start with your college conspiracy theories, Ning.”

“About that…” She rested her chin on her palm, her tone dangerously suggestive. “You never properly thanked me for taking your virginity back then.”

You coughed loudly, almost choking on the piece of meat you'd put in your mouth. Feeling your cheeks burn slightly, you glanced around to make sure no one at the nearby tables was paying attention.

“We were young and we had drunk too much at that New Year’s Eve party,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “You gave me an orgasm, I gave you an orgasm. I don’t owe you anything. It only happened once, damn it.”

Ningning's smile widened when she saw your defensive attitude.

“Actually, it was twice,” she corrected with a sing-song giggle. “If we count that threesome we had with Giselle.”

Giselle's name floated in the air. Remembering that Japanese exchange student, with a body sculpted for sin and such a free attitude, brought back a vivid memory of a night that seemed lost in your mind.

“My lunch break is over, I need to get back to the office.” You said abruptly, getting up from the table and throwing your card onto the bill to end the conversation.

“Wow, you even paid for my order. How chivalrous you've become.” Ningning mocked, adjusting her bag as you left the restaurant.

“Didn’t I always do it?” you asked, huffing in annoyance.

"You know I can pay you back whenever you want." She remarked, approaching with deadly danger; the subtext of that phrase left no room for doubt as to what she really meant.

Suddenly, you felt as if the temperature around you seemed to drop abruptly below zero.

“I was wondering what my official car was doing parked in front of a restaurant like this,” said a very familiar voice behind you, making your shoulders tense instantly.

You turned around slowly. Bae Joohyun was standing on the sidewalk right behind you.

She wore dark sunglasses that concealed her eyes, but the rigidity of her jaw betrayed her mood. Her mere presence seemed to overshadow the bustle of the avenue.

Ningning, far from being intimidated, smiled with an almost insulting familiarity and stepped forward.

“It’s always a pleasure to see you, President Bae.” She greeted her in an impeccably respectful manner, albeit with a hint of irony.

“Same here, Ning. You look radiant, as always.” Irene replied, subtly lowering her sunglasses to fix her dark eyes on you, before turning back to the heiress. “I didn’t know you two knew each other.”

“We were classmates in college, Madam President,” you clarified immediately, trying to sound professional.

That's when Ningning decided to play with fire. With a graceful movement, she took a step toward you and slid her arm around yours, deliberately pressing herself against your side in a gesture of absolute possession.

“We were just catching up,” Ningning added, looking at Irene with a defiant glint in her eyes. “You’ve been incredibly lucky to have him on your team, Madam President. He’s a great guy. Very… accommodating in everything he does.”

The silence that followed those words was deafening. You could feel Irene's gaze burning through the fabric of your suit. Her jaw clenched so tightly that a small muscle twitched in her cheek.

“Yes,” Irene replied, her voice so soft and icy it cut through the air like a scalpel. “He is. But unfortunately, he has work. Get moving. We have a meeting in twenty minutes.”

Without waiting for a response, Irene turned around and walked towards the black sedan that was still parked in front of the sidewalk.

“Give my regards to your father, Ning.” She said before disappearing into the vehicle.

“I will, Irene.” Ningning released your arm with one last playful caress and winked at you before walking away in the opposite direction. This girl was causing you too much trouble.

You stood for a second on the sidewalk, swallowing hard. The storm you had tried to avoid was no longer on the horizon; it had just erupted right in front of you.

The journey back to the company became a torture chamber on wheels. The silence was sepulchral, ​​thick, broken only by the sound of tires on asphalt.

Through the rearview mirror, you could see Irene's reflection in the back seat. Her gaze was fixed on the road, but her shoulders were completely rigid. Furious.

Not only because of your sudden and inexplicable distant attitude, but also because of the inexplicable storm that had been raging in her stomach ever since she saw you with Ningning. She, the undisputed queen of the industry, looked as if seeing another woman touching your arm and joking about your shared past had provoked such a savage desire to destroy everything.

“Remember to book our flights for the parade in Tokyo this weekend,” she said suddenly, without taking her eyes off the window. Her tone was flat, but sharp.

“I left your plane ticket on your desk this morning, along with the rest of today’s agenda,” you explained. Your voice was calm and neutral, your eyes fixed on the road.

Irene slowly turned her head, as if she couldn't believe what she had just heard. In the rearview mirror, your eyes met for a second before you focused on the traffic again.

“Am I speaking some dead language?” She hissed, raising her voice and revealing the first crack in her self-control. “Our flights. You’re coming with me.”

“I thought you didn’t need me this time, Madam President,” you replied, turning a corner smoothly. “I made some plans for this weekend.”