prologue
terms of attachment
It had all the makings of a perfect proposal – candlelit dinner, restaurant with a panoramic view of the Seoul skyline, small velvet box –what the hell is in there?– and the man of the hour sitting expectantly across her, garbed in a posh, well-cut suit. The only thing out of place was the envelope of cash placed squarely in front of her.
She stared dubiously. She had a moment to wonder if the exclusivity of the restaurant played any part to no one batting an eyelid at a wad of cash sitting all-too-obviously on a table at the center. A perfect place for money laundering, more like.
She levelled her gaze back on him. He had his elbows on the table and his chin resting on the back of his hands. “Are you sure?” she asked.
“Yeah, why not?” he said coolly, like her one year’s worth of rent was chump change to him.
“Well, for starters,” she said, drawing her breath, “you don’t know me. You haven’t really given me any semblance of a job interview, either.”
He shrugged. “Seulgi says you’re the best.”
“That’s subjective.”
“And that you have time.”
“That’s also subjective,” she said, looking away quickly. “I’m really just taking a break, sort of like a gap year. I don’t intend to–“
“She also mentioned you’re short on cash.”
That’s not subjective.
She fell silent. The edges of his lips curled into a smirk – a very smug, very annoying one. She couldn’t understand why he needed a lawyer to settle his personal relationships. With his demeanor, or lack thereof, she wondered how he even had relationships at all. Jinhee could smell a scumbag from a mile away, and Byun Baekhyun was already way too close for comfort.
He leaned in, making her inch away. “Think about it,” he said silkily. “You won’t get this hourly rate at any other firm in the industry.”
Her eyes trailed over his face – his perfect angular features, his hair falling in a comma over his brows, and his soft, soft eyes. A goddamn act. She wondered how many wandering women had foolishly fallen into them, coaxe
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