The once-buzzing crowd now hummed with low conversations, subtle glances, and polished charm. Everyone wore smiles, but the tension behind their eyes was unmistakable. Andrea could feel it—like a current running under marble floors and velvet curtains. Secrets lived here. In this room. In these people.
She stood near the edge of the room now, sipping the light Chinese wine Shasha had recommended earlier. Its sweetness was a sharp contrast to the bitter taste growing in her mouth. Her gaze trailed back to Eunwoo, who stood beside a high-profile delegate near the center of the hall, his demeanor calm and poised.
He was deep in conversation, but he kept glancing her way—like clockwork. A flick of his eyes. Barely perceptible, but she caught every single one.
Andrea tilted her glass and took another sip, then walked toward the large display table near the stage. Plates of carefully arranged delicacies lined the counter—dim sum, glistening duck slices, lotus-wrapped sticky rice. She leaned in to study them, pretending to decide what to pick, when her shoulder brushed against someone else's.
"Oh, sorry—" she turned, only to find a woman standing beside her. Short black bob, red lips, a thin scar trailing beneath her ear. Chinese. Mid-thirties. Regal.
"No need to apologize," the woman said in near-perfect English. Her smile was polite. Practiced. "You must be the mysterious Miss Yeldiz."
Andrea blinked. "You know me?"
The woman laughed softly. "Everyone here knows who Cha Eunwoo brings with him. It's rare. Very rare. So yes, you've made quite the impression already."
Andrea gave a smile—small, diplomatic. "That wasn't the goal."
"But it is the consequence," the woman said, then extended her hand. "Li Meilin. I'm one of the partners hosting this event."
Andrea shook her hand. "Andrea Yeldiz."
"You handle pressure well," Meilin added, eyes scanning Andrea with faint amusement. "Most would be overwhelmed standing in a room like this. It's not easy being the only outsider in a sea of alliances."
"I guess I've always been good at pretending I belong," Andrea said carefully, her smile steady, eyes unflinching.
Meilin's smile widened just a bit. "Then you'll do fine here."
With that, she gave a gentle nod and walked away—just like that. No warning. No more words. Just an encounter laced with quiet tension, and a subtle warning buried in her tone.
Andrea didn't realize she'd been holding her breath until she turned around and spotted Eunwoo making his way toward her. The tailored black suit hugged him perfectly, and the wing-shaped brooch near his collar glinted under the lights. He stopped in front of her, eyes sharp.
"What did she say to you?" he asked.
"Li Meilin? Just a warm welcome…with a blade behind it."
Eunwoo's jaw flexed slightly. "She's dangerous. That scar under her ear isn't an accident. Former intel. Now she works with the ones we're here for."
"And she already knows I don't belong," Andrea whispered, stepping closer.
He looked at her, voice low, "That's why you need to stay close. Don't talk to anyone unless I'm with you."
She wanted to argue—but she didn't. Instead, she gave a curt nod and handed him the half-empty wine glass.
He took it silently and set it on a side table.
Just then, the lights dimmed slightly, and a hush settled over the crowd. The master of ceremonies appeared near the stage, announcing the arrival of the true host. The one Eunwoo had been waiting to confront. The reason they were here.
Eunwoo leaned closer to Andrea. "Now, the real game begins. Stay sharp."
Andrea swallowed, her heart pounding in her chest.
He gently placed a hand at the small of her back and guided her toward the front of the hall as a tall, silver-haired man in a traditional black changshan stepped onto the stage. His presence silenced the room. His eyes scanned the crowd like a hawk.
"Chairman Wei," Eunwoo whispered. "Head of the Eastern Syndicate."
Andrea's breath caught.
So this was him.
She stood straighter, her spine instinctively aligning with confidence she wasn't sure she fully possessed. But Eunwoo's hand on her back grounded her.
Chairman Wei began his speech—Chinese, poetic, filled with veiled threats and metaphors. Eunwoo translated softly beside her, his lips dangerously close to her ear. She tried not to react. Tried not to lean in. But the rhythm of his voice calmed her pulse like nothing else.
When the speech ended and polite applause broke out, Eunwoo took her hand.
"We're going to meet him," he said.
"What? Now?"
"Yes," he replied. "He invited us."
Andrea stiffened.
Eunwoo looked down at her, eyes serious. "This is what we trained for."
She nodded. And together, they walked forward—past curious glances, past murmured conversations. They were the center now.
As they approached Chairman Wei, his gaze shifted to Andrea. A thin smile curved his lips.
"So," he said in English, voice deep and slow. "You are the woman who has everyone talking."
Andrea forced her best smile. "That's not usually a good thing."
"It is tonight," Chairman Wei said, then turned to Eunwoo. "You've chosen well."
And just like that—they were in. The next layer had opened.
But at what cost?
And would they both make it out with the truth—and their lives?
———💕———💕———💕———💕———💕
The air between them shimmered with something sharp. Tension, expectation, danger… it was all there—stitched into the atmosphere like a fine thread that could snap at the slightest pull.
Andrea's fingers were steady, but her heart pounded in her chest like a warning drum. As Chairman Wei offered a seat to Eunwoo, he nodded graciously and guided Andrea into the plush velvet chair beside him. Their hands brushed. Just a small touch, but even that was measured, calculated, necessary.
Chairman Wei's eyes never left her.
"You are beautiful," he said simply, sipping from a small ceramic cup of baijiu. "But more importantly… you are interesting."
Andrea lifted her chin just a little, refusing to let his stare pin her like a trapped butterfly. "I could say the same about you, sir."
Eunwoo suppressed a flicker of amusement beside her. His mask of calm remained unbroken, but she could feel the slight shift in his energy. He was alert now—ready for anything.
Wei chuckled. "Sharp. But tell me, Miss Yeldiz… what makes you trust this man beside you?"
Andrea's eyes slid to Eunwoo's. That question was loaded. Heavy. Testing.
"I don't," she said smoothly. "I respect him. There's a difference."
The older man barked a short laugh. "Even better. Love makes fools of strong women. Respect, however, keeps them alive."
Eunwoo responded with a short, approving nod, his fingers tightening slightly on Andrea's wrist under the table—just enough to say, well done.
Their meeting lasted no more than ten minutes. But within those ten minutes, Andrea felt like she had played a game of chess blindfolded, every word placed like a piece that could lead to checkmate—or a trap.
When Wei finally stood and dismissed them with a casual wave, Eunwoo rose first, offering his hand to Andrea. She accepted it.
The moment they turned their backs and walked toward the corridor leading to the balcony, Andrea exhaled.
"I said too much?" she asked under her breath.
"No," Eunwoo replied, voice low and serious. "You said just enough. He's testing your edges. You didn't flinch."
"Good," she whispered. "Because I'm barely holding it together."
Eunwoo glanced down at her, and for a moment—just a breath—his cold façade cracked. "You're doing better than most agents would."
She swallowed. That word—agent—still sounded foreign on her. She wasn't trained for this. She was a strategist, a researcher. Not a front-line player in the middle of the biggest undercover mission in Asia's underground network.
And yet, here she was.
On the balcony, away from ears and eyes, the chill air of Shanghai's evening swept over them. Andrea wrapped her arms around herself, and without a word, Eunwoo slid off his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders.
His body was close now. Too close.
Their breaths mingled in the cold air.
"I brought you here to be convincing," he said softly. "To act like my fiancée. But I didn't expect you to become this important."
She blinked at him. "That sounds dangerously close to a compliment."
"Dangerous is exactly what it is," he replied, stepping just an inch closer. "You're not part of this world, Andrea. But you're playing it better than those born in it."
Andrea met his gaze, her voice steady. "Then trust me to keep up."
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, his hand reached up to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face, his fingers cold but strangely comforting.
"I'm starting to," he said.
A moment passed—one that neither of them dared break. Until the door opened behind them, and one of the operatives from their team stepped out quietly.
"Boss," the man said in Korean, nodding respectfully, "they're preparing for the second phase of the party. The private one. Only six couples are invited. Wei wants you and her in."
Andrea stiffened.
Eunwoo straightened, pulling his jacket tighter around her shoulders.
"We go," he said. "Tell our backup to stay ready."
The operative nodded and slipped back inside.
Andrea turned to him. "Private?"
He nodded. "Where the real deals are made."
"And what do I have to do?"
He looked at her, gaze unreadable now. "You have to be the woman who owns me."
Andrea blinked. "What?"
"In that room," he said slowly, "they'll test us again. Couples only. And not just with words. Some of them… they'll get under your skin. Try to provoke, tempt, threaten. To see if we're real."
"And if I fail?"
"Then we lose everything," he replied. "And maybe more."
Andrea drew in a breath, squared her shoulders, and stepped forward.
"Then let's give them a show they'll never forget," she said.
A smirk tugged at Eunwoo's lips, slow and deadly. "That's my fiancée."
And together, arm in arm, they walked back into the shadows—into the room where love was just another weapon, and truth was the most dangerous thing of all.
💕———💕———💕———💕———💕
The moment they stepped into the private hall, Andrea felt the shift in air.
Gone were the polite smiles and casual glances of the main party. Here, in this inner sanctum of luxury and influence, everything was quieter—thicker. Conversations were laced with subtext, every movement watched, every word weighed like gold. The lighting dimmed to a warm, honeyed glow. Crystal glasses shimmered in candlelight. Soft classical Chinese music hummed low in the background, but it couldn't drown out the silent scrutiny they walked into.
Eunwoo had been here before. Many times. But this time felt different.
Not because the stakes were higher. Not because the targets were deadlier. But because Andrea was beside him.
And she didn't belong in this world.
She didn't know that the woman in the emerald dress lounging by the koi fountain was an infamous arms dealer's daughter. She didn't know the older man sipping rose liquor had once ordered executions without blinking. She didn't know the glint in someone's eye wasn't always admiration—it could be a threat.
But still, she walked beside him, chin high, eyes alert, mouth calm.
Eunwoo's fingers grazed hers as he escorted her to the velvet booth prepared for them. He didn't hold her hand—too obvious—but his knuckles brushed hers in a silent rhythm only he noticed.
She looked radiant.
In a place filled with gold and silk and fake diamonds, she looked real.
That red-cream dress shaped around her curves like a second skin, elegant without being vulgar. Her hair had started to curl at the ends with the humidity of the evening, and a few loose strands framed her face like silk ribbons. Her perfume wasn't overwhelming, just a faint jasmine warmth that clung to her like a memory.
And her eyes.
God—those eyes.
Too clear. Too unguarded for this kind of room.
He hated that.
He hated that she didn't know how many wolves were circling them right now, hiding behind tuxedos and flutes of imported wine. He hated that she smiled at people who didn't deserve it. That she looked at him with trust, even when she didn't have to.
But mostly… he hated the way his heart reacted when she looked lost.
"Sit close," he murmured as they reached the table, his voice low in her ear. "Let them see us."
Andrea slid into the booth, adjusting her dress modestly as he joined her, placing one arm lazily behind her shoulders—not touching, but near enough to send a message. They were a pair. Untouchable. Intimate.
Eunwoo's eyes flicked across the room, calculating who was watching. Almost everyone.
He didn't want her to be here.
He wanted her out—safe, somewhere far away where no one could use her to get to him. But that wasn't possible. Not now.
So he played his part.
His fingers finally rested gently on the side of her arm. A soft touch. Protective. Subtle.
Andrea looked up at him, confused for half a second—but didn't pull away. She just gave him a small, uncertain smile.
He nodded back, hiding the way his chest tightened.
You don't know what you're doing to me, do you?
Not just the danger. The attention. The mission.
But this. The way her presence disrupted everything inside him.
He didn't fall for people. He didn't feel—not like this.
Not with anyone.
But watching Andrea, her lips moving as she whispered something about the food in a tone of curious wonder, Eunwoo realized something dangerous:
He cared.
And not because she was part of the mission.
Not because she was pretending to be his fiancée.
He cared because she was still her in the middle of all this madness. Because she was trying to protect his cover too. Because she held her ground with strangers and smiled at him when she didn't have to.
Because for the first time in years, someone had seen him—not just the cold strategist, not the heir, not the negotiator—but the man beneath.
And she didn't run.
So, when a server brought a drink that he knew was laced with something that dulled the mind ever so slightly, he took it before Andrea could.
He sipped it for her.
He laughed a bit louder when someone made a comment about their "chemistry," just to draw attention away from her awkwardness.
And when someone leaned a little too close to her—an overly drunk CEO with too many rings and too little respect—Eunwoo's hand closed around Andrea's waist, slow but firm, pulling her closer into his side with effortless authority.
"She's taken," he said in Mandarin, calm and cool, but with an edge sharp enough to draw blood. "By someone who doesn't share."
Andrea blinked up at him in surprise—but didn't say a word.
She thought he was just playing the role.
But Eunwoo wasn't sure anymore where the performance ended and the real thing began.
Especially not when she turned to him and whispered with a soft laugh, "Was that a bit too much?"
He looked at her. His Andrea. Brave, confused, a bit overwhelmed—but still standing strong.
"Not for me," he said quietly.
And she smiled, unknowingly tightening the noose around his heart just a little more.
To be continued...