One week later, the soft morning light spilled into Eugene’s mansion, filling the rooms with a gentle warmth. Valerie was seated in the grand sitting room, still adjusting to the elegance and quiet luxury that surrounded her. The housemaids moved gracefully around her, carrying a large, carefully wrapped box with delicate ribbons.
“Miss Valerie, we’ve brought your wedding dress,” one of the housemaids said politely, setting the box down in front of her.
Valerie’s eyes widened slightly as she took in the package, her fingers brushing over the satin ribbons. A mix of excitement, nervousness, and anticipation fluttered in her chest. She slowly untied the ribbons and lifted the lid, revealing a gown of exquisite craftsmanship—soft layers of tulle, intricate lacework, and subtle embroidery that shimmered faintly in the morning light.
“It’s beautiful…” Valerie whispered, her voice barely audible, as if saying it aloud might break the delicate spell surrounding the dress. She lifted the gown carefully, letting it fall around her hands like water. “I… I can’t believe this is really happening.”
One of the maids smiled gently. “You look wonderful in it, Miss Valerie. It was chosen with care, to suit you perfectly.”
Valerie held the dress closer, the fabric soft against her cheek. “Thank you… Thank you so much,” she murmured, her heart swelling with emotion. A small laugh escaped her, nervous yet full of joy. “I never thought I’d actually be wearing this someday…”
As she stood and let the dress drape around her, she felt a quiet calm settle over her. For the first time in a long while, the trials, fears, and uncertainties of the world outside Eugene’s mansion seemed distant. Here, in this moment, with the gown in her hands, she allowed herself to imagine the day when she would walk toward him, ready to step into a new chapter of her life.
The housemaids stepped back respectfully, leaving her to admire the gown in the mirror. Valerie’s reflection stared back at her—strong, serene, and full of hope—and for the first time in a long while, she felt completely ready for the future.
As Valerie held the wedding dress in her hands, a shiver ran down her spine, and her mind suddenly drifted to a dark, vivid dream from the night before. In it, she had been hunting down the criminals—the men who had caused her so much pain—and had tried to kill them ruthlessly, her hands shaking as blood and anger mingled in the nightmare. The faces of those she had been chasing were twisted, mocking, and relentless, and she had felt a surge of power mixed with fear.
She shook her head violently, as if to dislodge the lingering images.
“No… I’m not that person,” she told herself, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. The dream was only a shadow, a fleeting glimpse of rage and helplessness she no longer wanted to carry.
Opening her eyes, she looked at the delicate wedding gown again, letting its soft folds and gentle shimmer anchor her back to reality.
“This is the life I’m choosing now,” she thought firmly. “Not revenge. Not fear…”
Her hands smoothed over the fabric, and she forced a small, steadying smile. The nightmare might have haunted her mind for a moment, but it would not control her heart—or her future. She shook off the remnants of the dark vision, inhaling deeply, and focused on the warmth and hope of what was to come.
Valerie let out a quiet gulp, her chest still tight from the lingering echoes of the bad dream. She placed the wedding dress carefully on a chair, smoothing the fabric as if to reassure herself that the reality around her was safe, gentle, and filled with hope.
With one last glance at the shimmering gown, she turned toward the bedroom, her footsteps soft against the polished floors of Eugene’s mansion. Her eyelids grew heavy, and the tension in her shoulders slowly eased.
Climbing into bed, she pulled the covers around her and exhaled deeply, letting the warmth of the room and the quiet lull of the night wash over her. The shivers from the dream faded, replaced by a tentative sense of calm.
As her eyes closed, she whispered to herself. “Tomorrow… tomorrow will be better.”
And with that thought, Valerie drifted into sleep, the darkness of the nightmare finally giving way to rest, and the promise of a new chapter gently waiting for her in the morning.
Night had fallen, and the music studio was bathed in the soft glow of dimmed lights spilling from the hallway. The usual hum of the city outside was distant, almost muted, leaving only the weight of the confrontation lingering in the air.
Ryung had stepped out of the rehearsal room, still humming faintly from the last notes, when he came face-to-face with Jiyoo. The darkness seemed to amplify Jiyoo’s presence—his eyes sharper, his stance more rigid, and his expression radiating a fury Ryung hadn’t expected.
The two stood in tense silence, the only sounds the distant waves from outside and the faint hum of the city beyond the studio walls. The night seemed to hold its breath, as if waiting to see what would happen next. Ryung’s mind raced, desperate for words, but Jiyoo’s fury was like a wall he couldn’t climb.
In one swift motion, he grabbed Ryung by the collar, yanking him forward and slamming his back against the cold wall. The impact reverberated through Ryung’s shoulders, and he stumbled slightly, caught off guard by the sudden aggression. It was a confrontation Ryung had never anticipated, and the darkness of the night made it feel even more isolating, threatening, and final.
“Tell me how you did it, and why…” Jiyoo demanded, his voice low but lethal, every word loaded with the weight of a year’s worth of resentment.
Ryung scoffed slightly, a sneer tugging at his lips. “You think I had a choice? You guys don’t understand why I had to do it.”
Jiyoo’s gaze darkened further, incredulity and disgust flashing across his face. “Yeah, by attempting to murder Valerie for the sake of someone else? Down at the Lotte World, you knew who she was. She wasn’t trying to hurt anyone. She was just trying to run away from you...”
“Yes, Jiyoo… yes,” Ryung admitted calmly, unflinching under the intensity of Jiyoo’s stare.
“Well… you’re a sick bastard, then,” Jiyoo spat, his voice trembling with fury.
Ryung’s tone hardened, his eyes locking with Jiyoo’s. “Maybe… but at least I wasn’t the one to destroy someone else’s family,” he said sternly, the words hanging in the air like a challenge.
Jiyoo’s chest heaved as he breathed heavily, his angry eyes glistening, switching from Ryung to the empty hallway as if searching for a way to release the tension. Finally, he let go of Ryung’s collar, stepping back with a glare that could have cut glass.
“We may be working in the same team,” he said coldly, his voice steady despite the lingering anger, “but you better stay away from her.”
Ryung leaned casually against the wall, smirking, his demeanor unnervingly calm. “Oh, don’t worry. It’s not like I’ll give her one single touch,” he said nonchalantly, as if brushing off the entire confrontation. “And remember, we are all going to attend her wedding very soon. Best of luck.”
Jiyoo’s fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tight, but he knew pushing further would only escalate things unnecessarily. Still, the warning had been delivered, and the air between them crackled with unresolved tension and unspoken threats, a fragile truce in the shadow of their shared mission.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9MiuB8a9oY
and then Add to home screen.