⋆ 𐙚 ̊.CHAPTER 27✶⋆.˚

🇽​​🇴​, ​🇪​​🇻​​🇪​​🇱​​🇾​​🇳

The grand marble steps of Evelyn's house echoed beneath the clicking of her heels as she and Minho made their way outside. The evening breeze was cool against her skin, fluttering the hem of her dress, but the cold did little to calm the swirl of emotions brewing inside her.

A sleek black Mercedes Benz waited for them at the curb, its polished surface gleaming under the soft glow of the porch lights. The chauffeur stood dutifully by the driver's door, tipping his cap as they approached.

Before Evelyn could reach for the door handle, Minho casually stepped in front of her, blocking her path. He flashed her that signature smirk — the one that was equal parts charming and annoying — and, with an exaggerated flourish, pulled open the car door.

"Get in, m'lady," he said, his voice dripping with mock elegance as he bowed slightly and motioned toward the car's interior.

Evelyn couldn't help but chuckle, rolling her eyes at his antics. "Oh, how gentlemanly of you, Mr. Moon." She bowed in return, playing along before gracefully sliding into the car.

Minho closed the door behind her and walked around to the other side, climbing in. The plush leather seats and subtle scent of fresh polish filled the cabin, but despite the luxurious setting, an odd silence settled between them.

The car pulled away from the house, the city lights reflecting off the windows as they drove through the bustling streets of LA.

Evelyn tried to ignore the tension, instead striking up casual conversation with the chauffeur — James, the man who had been with her family for as long as she could remember.

"How's Martha doing, James? And the kids?" Evelyn asked, her voice light.

James glanced at her through the rearview mirror, his eyes softening. "They're doing well, Miss Evelyn. Martha just started that new baking class she always talked about, and little Jamie's already giving me gray hairs with all his energy."

Evelyn laughed genuinely, momentarily distracted from her thoughts. "I'm glad to hear that. Tell Martha I said hi."

"I will, Miss."

While Evelyn kept the conversation going, Minho sat silently beside her, his head tilted down, fingers scrolling on his phone. But she noticed it — the slight furrow of his brows, the tension in his jaw. He wasn't just idly browsing; something was bothering him.

She considered asking but decided against it. Their dynamic was complicated enough without adding emotional baggage into the mix.

The car finally slowed as they reached their destination.

Evelyn's eyes widened slightly when she looked up — an immense skyscraper loomed over them, its glassy facade gleaming under the city lights. It stretched into the night sky like it could touch the stars. She craned her neck as she stepped out, noting the glowing numbers on the elevator panel when they entered the lobby.

Sixty-two floors. Of course.

Her parents never did things halfway.

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, revealing sleek interiors with mirrored walls and gold accents. Evelyn glanced sideways at Minho as they stepped inside, their reflections multiplying infinitely in the mirrored surfaces.

"What do you think they're going to talk about?" Evelyn asked softly, her voice carrying a faint edge of nervousness.

Minho finally put his phone away and looked at her. There was something in his eyes — an emotion she couldn't quite read. "We'll know that in about five minutes," he replied, his voice calm but laced with something deeper.

Evelyn sighed, leaning against the cool metal wall. Her heart was racing, but not for the reasons she wished.

She should have been excited — after all, her parents had actually made time to see her. That alone was rare enough. But the hollow ache inside her chest only deepened with each passing floor.

Why does it feel like this?

It wasn't just the idea of another business dinner — though those were enough to make her stomach turn, especially after that night. It was the growing distance between her and her family, the absence of her sister, the constant feeling of being just another pawn in their endless web of connections and deals.

Her thoughts spiraled — Where was her sister now? Could her parents give her answers? Would they even care enough to?

She bit her lip, her hands clutching the lilac fabric of her dress.

But amidst the storm of emotions, there was one comforting presence — Minho. His presence beside her made the suffocating feeling of these dinners slightly more bearable. It was ironic, considering how insufferable he could be, but somehow... having him there grounded her.

The elevator dinged, breaking her out of her thoughts.

They had arrived.

Minho shot her a glance — softer this time, almost reassuring. "Ready?" he asked.

Evelyn took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and nodded. "As I'll ever be."

Minho gently knocked on the door before pushing it open, holding it for Evelyn as they stepped inside. The private dining room exuded elegance — floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the shimmering cityscape, while a grand chandelier hung above, casting soft golden light over the polished table.

Their parents were already deep in conversation, papers spread across the table, likely discussing the Met Gala — timelines, designs, and contracts. Evelyn's mother sat with her signature poise, her dark hair swept into an elegant bun, while Dami, Minho's mother, sipped her wine gracefully, nodding as Evelyn's father gestured animatedly.

As Evelyn and Minho approached, Dami was the first to notice them. Her face lit up with a radiant smile.

"Oh, look who's finally here!" Dami exclaimed, rising from her seat.

Evelyn's mother looked up and beamed. "Come, sit down! It's been far too long."

Minho gave a half-smile and pulled out a chair for Evelyn before taking the seat next to her. Evelyn sat down, smoothing her dress over her lap.

Dami's eyes lingered on Evelyn, softening with nostalgia. "It's been what... eleven years since I last saw you, sweetheart? You were just a little girl back then."

Evelyn smiled politely. "I remember. You used to bring me candies whenever you visited."

Dami chuckled. "Oh, you loved those gummy bears. You've grown into such a beautiful young woman now. How's school going?"

"It's been alright," Evelyn replied, careful with her words. "Classes are tough sometimes, but I'm managing."

Dami tilted her head, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "And what about a boyfriend? I'm sure there's someone with their eye on you."

Evelyn nearly choked on her water. "Uh, no! There's... there's no one." Her cheeks flushed slightly, her eyes flicking to Minho before quickly looking away.

Minho's mom laughed, but it was Evelyn's mother who chimed in next, turning her attention to Minho. "What about you, Minho? With those good looks, I'm sure girls are lining up."

Minho smirked, leaning back in his chair, exuding that effortless charm. "What can I say? I try to keep my admirers humble."

Evelyn snorted. "More like scare them away with your ego."

The table erupted in soft laughter, easing the tension Evelyn had felt since she arrived.

The dinner began with a series of beautifully plated Italian dishes. A waitress, dressed impeccably in black and white, brought out the first course — burrata caprese, lobster ravioli, and a truffle mushroom risotto followed, its creamy texture perfectly balanced with earthy mushrooms and a hint of black truffle.

Throughout the meal, Evelyn relaxed. The conversation flowed naturally — their parents catching up on life, laughing over old memories.

As they reached the dessert course, the waitress brought in an array of decadent sweets. A classic tiramisu dusted with cocoa powder, panna cotta with raspberry coulis, and a beautifully layered lemon tart garnished with edible flowers. Evelyn reached for the lemon tart, its zesty flavor was her favorite, while Minho forked into the tiramisu.

As she leaned forward to cut a piece of the tart, Evelyn felt a tug on her wrist. Confused, she glanced down, realizing her diamond bracelet had caught onto the ornate lace tablecloth. She pulled instinctively, but the fabric began to shift dangerously, plates and glasses teetering.

"Evelyn, stop—" Minho quickly reached over, grabbing her wrist before she could pull the entire tablecloth off. With one hand steadying the fabric, he carefully worked the bracelet loose with the other.

Evelyn sat frozen, feeling the warmth of his fingers brushing against her wrist. Her heart thudded loudly in her chest. Why does this feel so weird? His touch was gentle, but her pulse raced as if she'd run a marathon. The butterflies in her stomach swirled, something she hadn't felt before — at least not like this.

"There," Minho murmured, finally freeing her bracelet. He looked up, their faces suddenly too close for comfort.

"Uh... thanks," Evelyn mumbled, pulling her hand back quickly, trying to ignore the heat rising to her cheeks.

"No problem. Try not to destroy any more five-star restaurants," he teased, leaning back in his chair with a grin.

Evelyn glared at him but couldn't help the small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

She cleared her throat, trying to shake off the weird feeling. "Oh! I forgot to tell you guys," she said, turning to her parents. "There was an issue with the dorms when I got to Korea... we had to share Minho's dorm for the entire semester."

Her mother arched a brow, her fork pausing mid-air. "Really? That doesn't sound ideal."

"It wasn't, trust me," Evelyn muttered, shooting a look at Minho.

"We'll talk to Principal Lim," her father said firmly. "That shouldn't have happened."

"Thanks, Dad."

By now, the dinner plates were cleared, and a round of drinks had been ordered. Evelyn noticed her parents exchanging a look — one she knew all too well. It was their "business mode" look.

Her father cleared his throat. "Evelyn, Minho — why don't you two go up to the rooftop lounge? Take a stroll, enjoy the view. We'll need a little time to finish our talk."

Evelyn glanced at Minho before nodding. "Sure."

Minho stood first, pulling her chair out for her like he had with the car earlier. "M'lady," he said with a slight bow.

She rolled her eyes but took his hand as she stood. "You're so dramatic."

The night air was crisp, carrying a faint scent of rain from earlier in the evening. The rooftop lounge was nearly empty, the city's elite either wrapped up in their own world or too occupied with hushed conversations in dimly lit corners. The clear glass railing stretched endlessly, allowing an unobstructed view of the sprawling city beneath them—skyscrapers glowing like constellations, car lights weaving through the streets like tiny fireflies.

Evelyn exhaled softly, leaning against the railing as her eyes roamed over the breathtaking view. She smiled, a small, genuine curve of her lips.

"It's so pretty," she murmured, almost to herself.

But Minho, who hadn't been paying attention to the city at all, merely smirked as he leaned on the glass beside her, his gaze locked entirely on her face.

"It is."

Evelyn turned to say something, only to find Minho already watching her. His dark eyes held an unreadable expression, one that made her stomach do something unfamiliar—something warm, something almost dangerous.

A few months ago, she would've rolled her eyes, smirked, and thrown in some sarcastic remark. Maybe even teased him about his staring problem. But tonight was different. This moment was different. She didn't want to ruin it with her usual jabs. Instead, something entirely unexpected slipped from her lips.

"Minho?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Hmm?"

"Have you ever thought about having a girlfriend? Or are you gay?"

Minho's entire expression dropped into a frown. His usual playful smirk was replaced with one of utter disbelief. "I'm straighter than the straightest man alive. Don't go assuming things, princess. It's not right."

Evelyn narrowed her eyes slightly, but when she caught the amused glint in his, she realized he was only half-serious. The way he said princess—slowly, deliberately, with that signature teasing smirk—made her feel weirdly flustered.

"I'm not assuming," she huffed, turning away slightly. "It's just... one of my friends likes you, so I was doing her a favor."

Minho leaned in slightly, his voice lower now. "Oh, is that so? And which friend is this?"

She bit the inside of her cheek, avoiding his gaze.

"For all I remember," Minho continued smoothly, "the last time you had friends, they were Kitty, Q, Yuri, and Hanni. I'm pretty sure it's none of them."

Evelyn rolled her eyes. "C'mon, you don't know all of my friends."

"Then tell me who she is."

"You don't have to know."

Minho clicked his tongue in mock disappointment. "This is how you're helping your friend? I feel bad for the girl."

Evelyn ignored him, her eyes suddenly widening as she gasped. "Oh my God! That was a shooting star! Did you see that, Minnie??"

Minho blinked, unimpressed. "No, I didn't see that. But every time you get excited, you call me Minnie. Why is that, Evie?"

Evelyn turned to face him, a sly smile tugging at her lips. "The exact reason why you call me Evie sometimes instead of Raven." She flipped her hair dramatically, the strands catching the soft glow of the rooftop lights as she strutted away.

Minho watched her retreating figure, his smirk widening as he whispered under his breath, "Interesting."

Minho followed Evelyn at a comfortable pace, his hands tucked into his pockets as he walked through the dimly lit rooftop lounge. The soft hum of the city below was the only sound accompanying him. Evelyn had turned a corner just ahead, her silhouette disappearing from view. He didn't rush—there was no need.

That was until he heard her scream.

His entire body froze for a split second before adrenaline kicked in. His heart slammed against his ribs as he sprinted forward, rounding the corner at full speed.

And then he saw her.

Evelyn was on the ground, her body curled up slightly, her arms trembling as she tried to push herself up. Standing in front of her was a man—tall, well-dressed, but his aura reeked of something sinister.

Minho didn't stop to think.

Crack!

His fist connected with the stranger's face before he could even register it. The man stumbled back, crashing onto the cold floor, his lip split open and blood dripping down his chin.

"What the hell did you do, and who even are you?!" Minho's voice was raw with rage.

The man groaned in pain, holding his jaw, but Minho didn't care. 

"Hey, hey, hush, it's alright," Minho muttered, dropping to his knees beside her. His arms wrapped around her protectively, pulling her against his chest. She was shaking so badly it scared him. "You're okay. I'm here. You'll be fine, princess. I knocked him off, see?" He held her close, his voice softer now, whispering whatever comfort he could think of.

Within moments, the guards arrived, their presence overwhelming the space as they assessed the situation. Minho explained briefly—Evelyn had been attacked, and the guy standing there was responsible. But there was no physical evidence, no clear signs of harm, and the stranger wasn't resisting.

So they took him to the hospital.

Minho had to deal with that bastard but now his priority was the girl in his arms.

Evelyn's cries had died down, but her body still shook violently. She hiccupped between uneven breaths, her fingers gripping onto his shirt as if letting go meant she'd crumble.

Minho frowned, his hand gently brushing against her back. What had this guy done to her? She wasn't physically hurt, yet she looked like she was reliving a nightmare.

"I've never comforted anyone before," Minho admitted, his voice low and honest. He adjusted his hold on her, his arms tightening slightly. "But you make me want to protect you in ways I never imagined."

And with that, he scooped her up in his arms, carrying her in bridal style as he walked towards their parents' private dining room.

The moment Minho stepped into the private cabin, Evelyn cradled in his arms, the entire room fell silent.

Her mother gasped, her face drained of color as she rushed toward them. "What happened to her?"

Minho gently laid Evelyn down on the plush lounge chair as her mother knelt beside her, hugging her tightly. Evelyn's father stood nearby, his jaw clenched, his expression dark.

Minho took a deep breath before explaining. "She was walking ahead of me and turned a corner. I couldn't see her for a moment, and within that split second, she screamed. When I arrived, she was on the ground, and a guy was standing before her." His voice was tight with controlled anger. "He had sharp features, a unique face. Anyone would recognize him anywhere."

Evelyn's father's expression darkened instantly. His hands curled into fists.

"That bastard," he spat through gritted teeth.

Mrs. Raven pressed her lips together, her eyes filled with something between fear and fury. "Is it... him?" she asked in a muffled voice.

Minho and Dami exchanged confused glances.

Evelyn's father exhaled sharply, his voice low and heavy. "First he harasses my youngest daughter, then he harms my eldest daughter and he had the audacity to show up in front of her again? It would only take a few phone calls to put him in jail..." his voice trailed off as he sighed and continued, "....but it would also take a few calls for his father to get him out."

Minho's jaw tensed. He had no idea how much pain Evelyn was carrying with her. She perfectly put on a smiling face wherever she went, or maybe that was her way to cope?

Her parents were too shaken to explain. Instead, they decided to take Evelyn home immediately.

Dami returned to her apartment, but Minho refused to leave.

"I'm coming with her," he said firmly. "I wasn't there for her for the last eleven years. That won't happen again."

He didn't need to convince anyone. Her parents nodded in agreement, and when he explained his decision to his mother, she simply smiled knowingly.

Dami had seen it. The way Minho looked at Evelyn. The way his touch lingered, how his voice softened only for her.

She said nothing except, "Good luck, son."

ruka:

patience is the key. next chapter is going to be the best chapter of this book