The grand ballroom was no longer just a room for her. It was a stage. And tonight, Soo-Ah was center stage, once again dressed to perfection in a sleek, tailored red Valentino gown. The fabric shimmered with the sharp elegance of a woman whose very silhouette screamed power, elegance, and a hidden world of torment.
But tonight, the air felt different.
Her laughter, a tinkle of bells that once rang through every conversation, now felt muffled. The gazes of others — once so eager, once so drawn to her — now seemed distant, stilted, as if a cold wind had swept through the room.
She stood at the edge of the vast, glittering space, her fingers drumming lightly against the edge of a crystal flute, her lips smiling but her eyes searching.
And then she noticed it again.
The moment a man came too close, his voice a warm murmur that should have been reassuring, she saw his gaze shift past her, flicking nervously toward the far side of the room. At first, it was subtle — the way he paused mid-sentence, just as he was about to offer her a compliment. Then, the smile fell from his lips like it had been swiped away by an invisible hand. He cleared his throat, a stutter forming in his words.
"Lady Han—"
He didn't even finish.
And then, before she could blink, he was gone.
Not hurriedly, but with a kind of forced, awkward elegance, like a man stepping away from an invisible predator.
Soo-Ah stood still, the glass in her hand suddenly heavy.
She scanned the room, her gaze narrowing.
There it was again.
Another man, younger this time, dressed in a perfectly tailored three-piece suit, approached her with the same intent — his smile warm, his demeanor casual. The world felt right again. Or so it seemed.
"I haven't seen you since—"
His voice wavered as he spoke her name, but by the time he got to the second syllable, he had already backed away.
And not out of some polite reason.
Out of sheer discomfort.
He couldn't even look at her without fleeing.
Soo-Ah blinked. For the first time, she felt the weight of her situation shift, as if the floor beneath her were tilting ever so slightly. What was going on?
The women, on the other hand, lingered, drawn to her like moths to a flame. Some were cautiously interested, others openly curious, talking about fashion, family, travel — the usual social niceties. But the men?
There was an unsettling pattern now.
One after another, they arrived with questions, only to cut themselves short mid-sentence, half-heartedly finishing their words with strained smiles before disappearing into the crowd.
The women, however, stayed.
Soo-Ah turned, her gaze meeting that of one of her oldest friends, Ji-Won, who had always been an unwavering presence in her life.
"Are you seeing this?" Soo-Ah asked, voice quieter than usual.
Ji-Won, always perceptive, took a long look around the room before leaning in.
"You're not imagining things," she said softly, her expression unreadable. "It's him. Dae-Hyun."
Soo-Ah's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
Ji-Won paused. "You don't understand how much influence he has, Soo-Ah. No one wants to upset him."
"Even the men?" Soo-Ah's voice dropped into disbelief.
"Especially the men," Ji-Won clarified. "Dae-Hyun didn't just conquer the businesses. He conquered the unspoken rules of society itself. Anyone who stands too close to you — any man who dares to speak to you — is a target. He controls their every move, from the boardroom to these social events."
Soo-Ah swallowed, her stomach tightening. She glanced around the room, seeing more men slinking back, avoiding her gaze as if it would cost them everything. It wasn't just about her beauty or her status anymore. This wasn't about the Han legacy, or even the Kang fortune. This was about him.
Dae-Hyun's power stretched far beyond the companies and families he controlled. It had sunk deep into the very fabric of society itself. The men in the room were slaves to his unseen reach. They were afraid of him — of displeasing him.
And Soo-Ah realized something else. She wasn't just his wife. She was his property. A possession, a token, an object that couldn't be touched by anyone else.
Except by him.
The chilling realization made her chest tighten.
She heard the sound of heels clicking sharply behind her, and before she could turn, a familiar figure appeared in her peripheral vision.
Dae-Hyun.
His presence was like a dark thundercloud rolling in. A sharp contrast to the lightness of the ball. His gaze swept over the room, then locked onto hers.
In that instant, everything shifted.
The men who had once lingered near her — even as they made their awkward excuses — stood taller, like children trying to escape their father's angry eyes.
Dae-Hyun walked toward her with a fluid elegance, the way a lion stalks its prey — unhurried, confident, every step a declaration. He reached her side, and without a word, extended his hand.
She took it, the coolness of his fingers biting into her skin, but for some reason, this time… she didn't feel the fear.
Instead, she felt a cold, possessive warmth radiating from him, a force she could no longer ignore. A force that had shaped not only her life, but also the world around her.
He didn't look at her. He didn't need to.
Instead, he simply placed a kiss on her hand, his lips brushing against her skin.
His voice was a low growl as he said, "Time to go."