THE OTHER SIDE OF YOU

CHAPTER 2: THE EMPIRE AND THE APP

The boardroom of MK International felt like a refrigerator. It was sleek, expensive, and entirely devoid of warmth.Kang Dae sat at the head of the glass table, his fingers steepled in front of his face. He wasn't looking at the quarterly projections being projected onto the wall. He wasn't looking at the fifteen executives who were currently sweating through their silk shirts.He was looking at the minute hand of his watch."As you can see, Director Kang, the acquisition of the port in the south will require a capital injection of" "Ten percent more than what you've listed," Dae interrupted, his voice cutting through the room like a blade. He didn't raise his voice; he didn't have to. The silence that followed was absolute. "You factored in the construction costs, but you failed to account for the local union's recent strike demands.

Fix the numbers and have it on my desk by tomorrow morning." "But Director, the board meeting is in" Dae stood up. The movement was fluid, powerful, and final. "Then I suggest you start typing faster. The meeting adjourned."He didn't wait for their response. He turned and walked out of the boardroom, his long strides forcing his Chief of Staff, Juno, to almost jog to keep up.

"That was brutal, even for you," Juno muttered, clutching a tablet to his chest as they entered the private elevator. "They've been working on that proposal for months." "They’ve been working on a fantasy," Dae said, his hand reaching into his pocket. The moment the elevator doors closed, the cold, untouchable Director of MK International vanished. He pulled out his phone, his thumb immediately swiping to the "Butterfly" app. He saw her messages. Two missed calls. Three texts. Are you okay? Ren? His heart, which usually beats with the steady, cold rhythm of a Swiss watch, gave a painful thud. He hated making her wait. He hated the silence he was forced to give her when his world became too loud."The university registration?" Dae asked, his eyes fixed on the screen."Done," Juno sighed. "You are officially Kang Dae, a twenty-four-year-old transfer student from a fictional university in Singapore. Your transcripts are forged to perfection, your tuition is paid, and I’ve even bought you a backpack that looks like it’s seen a few semesters of use. I still think this is professional suicide, by the way."Dae didn't answer. He was busy typing.

[Ren]: I’m here. Sorry, Butterfly. Today got… messy. He watched the "Typing..." bubble appear almost instantly. He could picture her the way she probably bit her lip when she saw his name, the way her brows would knit together in that adorable mix of worry and annoyance. He had never seen her face, but he had seen her soul in every word she wrote. He had spent six months falling in love with a woman's mind, and today, he was finally going to see the rest of her."Dae, are you listening?" Juno asked, leaning against the elevator wall. "The board is already suspicious. You’re taking a 'sabbatical' to finish a degree you supposedly already have. If they find out you're doing this for a woman ""I'm not doing it for a woman," Dae said, his gaze hardening as he looked at Juno. "I'm doing it for my woman. There’s a difference."

"You haven't even met her! You met her on a chat app designed for people who are too scared to show their faces!" "I'm not scared," Dae murmured, his thumb tracing the butterfly icon on his screen. "I'm careful. Nari... she doesn't know who I am. She doesn't know about the money, the empire, or the grandfather who thinks people are chess pieces. To her, I'm just Ren. I'm the only version of myself that I actually like."

The elevator chimed, opening into the executive garage. A black sedan was waiting, but tucked in the corner was something far less conspicuous: a standard SUV that wouldn't stand out in a campus parking lot."The delivery?" Dae asked as he walked toward the SUV."Already at the university.

Your personal courier handled it. High-end sushi and the specific brand of organic peach tea she mentioned liking three months ago. You're a stalker, Dae. A very wealthy, very attentive stalker."

"I have a good memory for things that matter," Dae replied.

He climbed into the driver's seat, shedding his charcoal blazer and tossing it into the back. He unbuttoned the top two buttons of his white dress shirt and rolled up his sleeves, revealing the expensive watch he’d forgotten to take off.

He cursed and shoved it into the glove box.His phone buzzed. A voice-memo request.He hit accept, and her voice filled the car. "...Hello?"

He closed his eyes for a second, leaning his head back against the headrest. She sounded small. Worried. He felt a surge of protectiveness so strong it felt like a physical weight in his chest.

"Hey, Butterfly," he said, his voice dropping into that low, intimate register he only used with her. The conversation that followed was his only moment of peace in a day filled with sharks. He teased her about being annoyed, he lied about his meeting, and he felt his own tension melt away as she argued with him.

Then, she said ,"Fine. Talk to you later, Babycakes." Dae froze. A slow, genuine smirk spread across his face, one that reached his eyesa rare occurrence in the hallowed halls of MK International.

"Babycakes," he whispered after the line went dead."What?" Juno asked, peering through the window. "You look like you just won a war."

"She called me Babycakes," Dae said, his voice full of a wonder that made Juno roll his eyes. "She’s never used a pet name before. Not once."

"It was probably a typo. Or she's mocking you."

"I don't care," Dae said, putting the car into gear. "She said it."As he drove away from the towering glass skyscraper that bore his family name, Dae felt his pulse quicken. He was leaving the world where he was the king, the predator, the successor.

He was heading to a world where he was a nobody. A student. A face in a crowd.He pulled into the university parking lot twenty minutes later. He sat in the car for a moment, adjusting his glasses non-prescription, just enough to soften the sharp, aggressive lines of his face.

He grabbed the "used" backpack Juno had provided and slung it over one shoulder.He checked the time. 12:55 PM.Geography 101: Introduction to Human Topography. Room 402.His heart hammered against his ribs a sensation he hadn't felt since his first multi-million dollar deal. He walked through the campus, blending in with the sea of students in hoodies and jeans. He felt younger, lighter, and yet more focused than he had ever been in his life.He reached Room 402 and stepped inside. The lecture hall was large, tiered, and smelling of old paper and coffee. He climbed the stairs to the third row, choosing a seat that was slightly off-center not too close to be noticed immediately, but close enough to see the color of her eyes.He sat down, pulled out a notebook, and waited.

Five minutes later, the door at the front of the hall opened.

A woman walked in. She was wearing a cream-colored silk blouse and a dark pencil skirt. Her hair was pulled back in a bun so tight it looked painful, and she carried herself with a rigid, professional grace that screamed "Don't touch me."

She looked stressed. She looked cold. She looked exactly like the woman he had spent months talking to, and yet, she looked nothing like the "Butterfly" he knew. Nari set her leather briefcase on the podium and turned to the class. Her eyes scanned the room, a professional mask firmly in place.When her gaze passed over the third row, Dae felt his breath hitch. For a split second, her eyes lingered on him the new face, the student who didn't look like he belonged in a freshman elective.Dae didn't look away. He didn't blink. He just watched her, his thumb secretly tracing the edge of his phone in his pocket. I'm here, Butterfly, he thought, a secret, dangerous smile tugging at his lips. Let's see if you're as brave in person as you are behind a screen. Nari cleared her throat, her voice crisp and echoing through the hall.

"Good afternoon, everyone. I am Professor Kim Nari. Welcome to Geography 101."Dae leaned back, clicking his pen. The game had officially begun.