chapter 2:A Storm in the Hallway
907 Words
The next morning as j-world Entertainment was buzzing. Stylists rushed through the glass halls, makeup artists were already at work, and interns scurried around with clipboards. Kang Mirae adjusted her black fitted blazer and took a deep breath as she stepped into the sleek lobby. Her stilettos clicked on the marble floor, echoing like a war drum. Today, she wasn’t just any stylist—she was assigned to the CEO himself.
Of all people.
She hadn’t seen Lee Jihan since that night.
She thought she could avoid him. Hide in plain sight, coast under the radar. But fate was a petty thing. And now, she had to stand before the man whose baby she carried—without letting the truth slip.
The elevator doors opened. Kang Hana, Mirae’s roommate and fellow stylist, popped her gum and grinned.
“You good?” she asked, eyeing Mirae’s perfectly painted lips and the fire in her dark eyes.
Mirae gave her a small smirk. “I look expensive. I feel expensive. I’m good.”
“You look like you’re about to chew Jihan up and spit him out. That’s hot.”
Mirae’s eyes flickered with tension. “Let’s just say I’m dressing the devil himself.”
On the 15th floor, the CEO’s private suite was eerily quiet. Mirae entered first, adjusting her belt as she walked in, cool and professional.
Then she saw him.
Lee Jihan.
God, he looked even more dangerous in the daylight.
Tailored black suit, no tie, shirt slightly undone at the collar. His presence was loud, even in silence. He was sitting with one leg over the other, sipping his coffee like he owned the air.
Which he probably did.
His eyes met hers.
Time stilled.
Something unreadable flickered across his face, but he masked it quickly. Mirae took out the file from her folder, kept her expression neutral, and approached.
“Good morning, CEO Lee,” she said, bowing politely.
He stood, slowly. His eyes roamed over her with a familiarity that made her pulse skip.
“You’re Mirae,” he said. Not a question. A confirmation.
“Yes.”
She swallowed. “I’m assigned as your personal stylist for the next four weeks. I hope to meet your standards.”
He smirked. “I’m sure you will.”
Hana coughed softly, pretending not to be nosy while adjusting accessories behind Mirae. She gave Mirae a tiny wink when Jihan wasn’t looking.
Mirae moved closer to take measurements. Jihan didn’t move. Her fingers brushed his arm. Sparks.
Focus, Mirae. Focus.
She kept her voice businesslike. “We’ll start with two suit options for this week’s magazine shoot. Black velvet and navy satin. You have a strong jawline, and those colors bring it out.”
“Hmm,” he murmured. “You sound like you’ve studied me.”
She met his gaze. “I study all my clients.”
He leaned a little closer. “Is that so?”
Just then, the door burst open. Seo Yuna, the famous actress and Jihan’s ex, stormed in like she owned the place.
“Jihan! You haven’t returned my calls—” Her voice trailed off as she spotted Mirae.
“Oh,” she sneered. “And who is this?”
Mirae didn’t flinch. She straightened up, calm and unreadable.
“Stylist Kang Mirae. Pleased to meet you.”
Yuna’s eyes narrowed. “We’ve met before, haven’t we?”
“Probably not.”
Jihan’s jaw tensed. “Yuna, this isn’t the time.”
Yuna pouted. “You’ve been ignoring me for her?”
Mirae turned to pack up her tools. “I’ll return with the wardrobe options in two hours.”
As she moved past Jihan, he caught her wrist gently.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he said, low and dangerous.
Yuna gasped. “Excuse me?”
Jihan’s eyes didn’t leave Mirae’s. “We’re not done.”
Mirae raised an eyebrow. “If you want professional service, CEO Lee, I suggest you act professionally.”
He let go. She walked out, heartbeat wild, leaving behind a storm that was only beginning to brew.
---
Back in the break room, Mirae nearly collapsed on the couch. Hana handed her a smoothie.
“You okay?”
“No,” Mirae muttered. “He remembers me.”
“And?”
“And it’s going to get complicated.”
---
That night, Mirae returned home to find her son, Minjun, drawing on the living room floor. His chubby cheeks were smudged with crayon, and his smile melted her heart.
“Mama!” he cried, running to her.
She scooped him up and kissed his forehead. “Did you behave for Hana-unnie?”
“Yes! I made a rocket!”
She looked at the paper. It wasn’t a rocket—it was a very rough drawing of a man, a woman, and a baby. And weirdly, the man had sharp features… and styled hair…
Her heart dropped.
He drew Lee Jihan.
Minjun looked up. “Mama, when will Appa come home?”
She froze.
How do you explain to a child that his father is the most powerful man in the country… and doesn’t even know he exists?
Before she could answer, her phone buzzed.
New message from: CEO Lee Jihan
“Dinner. Tomorrow. 8PM. We need to talk. No excuses.”
Her fingers tightened on the phone. Tomorrow, the secrets would begin to unravel.
And Mirae didn’t know if she was ready.
- Writer
