Irene lies awake on her bed in Wendy's room, thinking about all the foolish things she had done tonight. There's no doubt that the kiss they shared was truly mind-blowing, and she tremendously enjoyed it so much that she saw sparks flying everywhere the moment Wendy started moving her lips against hers. She had kissed a number of people before, but Wendy's... It's way, way more different, in a good way.

That's precisely why Irene feels so disappointed in herself. She savored the ing kiss as if she had never kissed someone like that before. She had completely lost her self-control and had gone completely insane by choosing to kiss instead of getting away with a simple question. Surely, that lie detector thing is quite intimidating, but it's not entirely the sole reason why she chose to kiss. It's Wendy's fault for showing up and looking like a freaking snack. Scratch that. Wendy looked like a full-course meal, with her entire aura screaming "DEVOUR ME" that Irene just couldn't resist, and that's exactly what she did. She devoured Wendy. The lie detector is just a secondary factor in all of that decision. It's just a convenient excuse to evade the option of a question. Deep down, Irene knew she simply craved those lips from the very beginning.

Irene bit her lip as she internally groaned. She didn't want to wake her sleeping fiancée, who was on the floor at the foot of her bed, so she just mentally contemplated what Wendy was thinking or feeling about what had happened. She responded to the kiss, right? She must've wanted it too, right? What Irene meant was, Wendy had her tongue exploring Irene's mouth, not once, but twice, so she must've liked it a lot too, right?

This is driving Irene crazy. Wendy is making her lose her sanity, and it shouldn't be like this.

It must've been the alcohol, too. She was sure it very much influenced her curiosity and intrusive thoughts earlier. Questions like: How does it feel kissing a Wendy Son? What do Wendy Son's lips taste like? Should I shove some tongue in there? It definitely gave her the push and the bravery to know the answers to those questions inside her head.

Now that she had finally known the answers, and she wouldn't deny how much she actually liked it, it bugs the hell out of Irene how much she enjoyed indulging in those luscious lips. She wanted more of that, if she would just be more honest with herself.

She needs to remind herself repeatedly that Wendy is just a piece of this game she is playing for herself. She's just a tool that Irene needs for her to win back the title and the position she made for herself with her blood, sweat, and tears. That's all Wendy is to her: an employee, a secretary, a business deal.

Well, that's what Irene keeps telling herself. Again and again and again.

The reality she refuses to acknowledge is that Wendy is her incredibly attractive secretary, who is so skilled in the art of French kissing that it drives her completely mental.

This time, Irene groaned rather loudly. Her hormones were getting the best of her.

"Irene," Wendy's low voice echoed throughout the quiet room.

Irene snapped out of her thoughts and slapped herself. She was even hearing Wendy's voice in her head now, loud and clear. It had been minutes since they had finally settled to rest and call it a day, and her fiancée was probably already sleeping soundly. Her mind must have been playing tricks on her.

"Are you still awake?" It was Wendy's voice again.

Irene didn't respond at first. It seemed like the brunette was really talking to her.

"Are you okay?" Wendy asked again when she received no response from the chief.

Oh. Right. She's still awake.

Is Wendy asking if she is okay because she can hear her groans and her physical assaults on herself, or is Wendy talking about the kiss? Or maybe the brunette is talking about what happened after the game?

Irene flashes back to the incident earlier.

The game finished long ago. Irene had already given her fair share of fun to the younger girls when she joined them on the dance floor. It was exhausting but fun, and it totally helped take her mind off her problems in New York, but it also made her a bit dizzy. The alcohol and the dim lights, combined with the flashes of the disco ball, made her unable to keep up with Joy and Yeri's energetic dances. She had to stop now, or she was going to be sick to her stomach later.

"Are you okay? Why don't we sit for a moment?" Like a gorgeous knight in shining armor, Wendy rushed to her side, gently supporting her back and her arm as the brunette led her away from the overwhelming crowd and to the bar counter. Wendy helped her sit on one of the stools in front of the counter and ordered the bartender to give her water. The brunette sat beside her as she emptied her glass.

"I'm hungry," Irene muttered.

"What do you want?" her fiancée asked as the brunette gestured to the bartender to give her the menu of their food.

Irene scanned the list but found nothing interesting in particular. "I don't know," she frowned and put it down.

"You don't like anything from the menu?" Wendy asked.

Irene nodded like a little kid because it somehow felt good being babied a bit by a Wendy Son. Wendy's full attention on her and the way the brunette takes care of her tipsy is so attractive and hot. Okay, maybe she's not just tipsy. She's drunk. She's been describing Wendy with every positive adjective she could associate with the brunette, and it's not usually like this when she doesn't have some alcohol in her system.

"Do you want some cookies?" the secretary asked.

"What kind?"

"Chocolate chip."

Irene nodded.

"Arasso. I have some cookies in my bag from Mrs. Jang. She wants me to give them to you. They're homemade. Let me just get them."

"Who is Mrs. Jang?" Irene asked before Wendy could get up from her seat.

"The lady at the market. The one you helped choose which flowers to buy."

"Oh. Right. I remember her. Where did you see her?"

"They have a ramen shop in Udo. I went there earlier."

"Why didn't you ask me to come with you?"

"Because..." she observed Wendy hesitate, noting the furrowed eyebrows on the brunette as she attempted to recall why she hadn't brought Irene along. Wendy's eyes suddenly widened, suggesting that she had come up with an answer to the question.

"I… I must've been in a hurry… to get some air… I must've been very hungry to not think of you at that moment… I don't know. I don't actually remember," she watched Wendy blabber, her cheeks becoming red.

It amuses Irene how Wendy could quickly blush even for the most random reasons. Like right now, she doesn't really understand the panic in Wendy's voice, but the brunette's red cheeks make her look so adorable.

"Right. What did she say?"

"That she likes it very much. Her daughter loves it too. Minjeong said you're, uh... very pretty."

"Am I?"

"Definitely." Wendy absentmindedly answered instantly. "I mean… Y-you know you're pretty, right?"

"Hmmm. What else did she say?" Irene was just trying to prolong the conversation this time. As much as she wants to taste those cookies, she also does not want Wendy to leave her side. It is not always that they would be in a light, casual conversation void of any bickering and arguments.

"They said 'SeungRene fighting,'" Wendy muttered with her clenched fist in the air.

"What?"

"SeungRene fighting."

"SeungRene?"

"Seungwan and Irene."

SeungRene? Seungwan and Irene? It's Irene's turn to blush this time. That sounded like a real couple thing, having their names combined like that. Irene felt hot all of a sudden.

"'Fighting' means they support us as a couple. Something like that," Wendy continued, her blush becoming more evident now.

"SeungRene." The name rolled perfectly on Irene's tongue. "That's cu– cool. Yes, cool."

"That's what I thought too. Kids these days… I'm just gonna go and grab it quickly. Do you want anything else?"

"Nah. Come back quickly. Please."

Okay. She sounded a little clingy there.

"Alright," Wendy reassured her.

As Wendy disappeared from the crowd, Irene suddenly felt so alone and lonely. This feeling confuses her because she's been living most of her life independently and alone. But when Wendy walks away, it's like a warmth has been taken away from her. It's like Wendy is carrying a fire with her in this cold and dark world, and when she's not here, Irene suddenly feels chilly.

Her poetic side is getting the best of her drunkenness.

Irene's thoughts were interrupted by a guy who approached the bar counter. He walked like he owned the place and stood at Irene's side.

"Two shots of rum, please," the man slurred, drunkenness evident in his voice. The bartender tended to his order and prepared two shots of the requested liquor. He downed the two shots in one go and ordered another two.

Irene averted her gaze away from the counter, avoiding an interaction because the man was throwing her creepy glances every now and then.

"What do you want, miss? It's on me," the guy finally addressed Irene with a nasty grin on his face, which the lady chief kind of expected. Of course, she's in a bar, and places like this always have men who think highly of themselves. Most of them think they can hit on women whenever they want to. Not that Irene thinks highly of herself, too, or that she thinks she's being hit on, but because that's exactly what this guy is doing. If he were a decent human being, he would get his order, walk away, and leave a person alone when the person is clearly looking away because she does not want an interaction with you.

Irene decided to ignore him.

"Oh. The hard-to-get type," the man chuckled to himself.

This triggered Irene's fuse. If it were a normal day, she would have handled this type of situation in a calmer and classier way. But she is far from normal tonight. She is drunk, sensitive, whiny, and she misses her fiancée who has just left to get her some cookies. Her emotions are all mixed up, and this man is clearly testing her reactions, which he's going to regret because Irene is ready to put this man in his proper place.

"Excuse me?" She raised an angry eyebrow at the man.

"I said, you're that type. Hard-to-get," the man repeated, grinning like a Cheshire cat. Irene cringed at the sight.

"If it's not clear enough for you, I'm not interested."

"Are you with someone?"

"Yes, I'm with someone. Please go away," she said.

"Well, I'm not seeing anyone with you right now. Looks like you need a companion. You can come with me and my friends. We're gonna continue the party at my crib," he offered.

"No, thanks. Again, not interested."

"Oh, come on. It'll be fun," he then proceeded to encircle his long arm around Irene's shoulders.

This sends uncomfortable shivers down Irene's spine. She glances at the bartender to check if the guy is seeing what this stranger is doing to her, but the bartender is nowhere in sight. He might have gone to the stockroom or something, leaving Irene all by herself. Everyone else is doing their own business.

"Don't touch me," Irene said as she swatted the guy's hand away from her. She's putting up a brave front even though she's actually starting to get nervous because she had never experienced being disrespected like this before. Simple words like "No" and "Go away" are clearly not working for this man. Irene doesn't know where his comprehension has gone, or if he actually understands what she means, but he just doesn't seem to care. One thing is very clear, though: he's not planning to leave Irene alone anytime soon.

"What's wrong? I'm just being nice. I just wanted to talk," he tried putting his arm around Irene's shoulders once more, only to be pushed away again by the lady chief.

"I said don't touch me. I don't want to make a scene. So, just please leave me alone, or I'm gonna call security," Irene warned. What makes this man think that he's on her level? She's a grown-up successful woman. This man is clearly not on her level of thinking and decency. A trash. That's what he is.

"Oooh. Feisty," the guy snickered. "Exactly my type," his nasty drunken breath that smells like sewage washed over Irene's face.

Now, it's terrifying how Irene felt vulnerable and scared at this moment.

When Irene usually hears about instances of people, especially girls, experiencing physical harassment, she often hears questions like, "Why didn't she call for help?" or "Why didn't she scream?" People also ask, "Why didn't she create a scene to attract attention and assistance?" or "Why didn't she try to escape?" It's always the act of victim-blaming that deeply frustrates Irene, and she considers those who engage in it to be quite pathetic. Rather than holding the harasser accountable, they tend to point fingers at the victim, a perspective that simply doesn't make sense. The truth is, one can never predict their initial reaction until they find themselves in a similar situation, which is precisely what's happening to Irene right now.

Irene would love to put the man in his place, as she had planned earlier, but his touches are like fire, burning through Irene's skin, and the lady is unable to move because of this uncomfortable feeling. It's easy to say to run or scream or fight or whatnot when you encounter something like this, but when you are actually in the situation already, you just don't know what to do.

She suddenly felt weak.

"Let me take you to my home," the man insisted again.

Someone from behind her cleared their throat, getting the guy's attention.

"You can't. She's with me," Wendy's low, serious voice was heard from behind her, and Irene had never felt so relieved in her entire life. She wanted to scream and squeal and throw herself at Wendy, but even though she's quite drunk, she remembers she's The Irene Bae, and Irene Bae never squeals and throws herself at people. She remained calm, but she finally found the strength to stand from her seat.

"Oh, Son Seungwan. Look at you," the guy narrowed his eyes at Wendy, his gaze traveling from Wendy's head to toe.

He knew her?

"Jung San."

They knew each other?

The guy snickered. "Just like in college. You are everywhere. Why don't you mind your own business?" Okay, the two clearly have history.

Wendy reached for Irene's hand and pulled her to the brunette's side. The action made Irene's heart skip a beat, and she didn't really understand why. All she knew is that she felt safer now that Wendy is here.

"Gwaenchana?" Wendy asked her.

What is this feeling? The guy was talking to Wendy, but she is ignoring him, making sure first if Irene is safe and okay. Why is she like this? Irene realized she's been staring at Wendy for quite too long. She slowly nodded as a response to the brunette's question.

"I'm talking to you," the guy said, glaring at Wendy.

"Oh. Right," Wendy calmly said as she averted her attention back to the Jung San guy. "First, I was the Student Regent when we were in college. It's my job to be everywhere. Second, she's my business. So, shoo."

As if the guy's tiny brain did not process what 'shoo' means, he hastily proceeded to grab Irene by her arm, which resulted in Wendy grabbing his arm too, stopping him from his further actions.

"Hey. The lady said don't touch her. So. Don't. Touch. Her," Wendy said with a voice not so familiar to Irene. It's dark, it's low, and it sends a warning. It's far from the usual chirpy and bright Wendy.

"Listen. A huge bet is at stake with this. I told my friends I can bring this hot girlie home. So, get out of my face and mind your own business," he removed Wendy's grip on his arm with his other hand and forcefully grabbed Irene's wrist again.

"Yah. That's my fiancée, you ing moron," Wendy pushed him with both of her hands, successfully removing his grip on Irene's wrist.

Irene must be out of her mind, thinking that it's so hot of Wendy to do that, cursing and calling her 'fiancée' in front of this man, defending her from his assaults, even though the situation was spiraling into chaos and attracting attention.

Fantasizing about Wendy at this moment is definitely the wrong timing.

Everything is happening so fast that the next thing Irene knew, the guy had already thrown a punch at Wendy's gorgeous cheeks, causing Wendy's face to violently jerk sideways.

Irene gasped at the sight, but Wendy quickly recovered from the blow and threw a strong kick to Jung San's guts, sending him a couple of meters away from them, onto the floor, grunting in pain.

Irene couldn't believe this was actually happening. A crowd had already gathered around them, and gasps, murmurs, and whispers were starting to be heard all over the place. Irene thought these scenes only happened on TV, in stories, or in books, and she was quite shocked that she had witnessed something like this in real life.

The Jung San guy was trying to get up, and Wendy took a couple of steps forward, getting ready for whatever counterattack the guy would do.

Assessing the situation, Irene is thinking this will likely turn into a rough brawl fight, and Wendy, having a much smaller frame than the opponent, would likely take the most blows if this continues.

"You’re gonna ing regret this, you ing ," Jung San warned as he clutched his stomach in pain.

"No. You’re the one who’s gonna regret this, you ing ," Wendy countered.

As Wendy took another step towards Jung San, Irene did the first thing her body told her to do. She hugged Wendy from the back, stopping the brunette from advancing towards the guy on the floor.

"Baby… That's enough… Please… Enough…," Irene cooed behind Wendy's ears. Just by sensing Wendy's aura, observing her furious eyes, and hearing the uncharacteristic stream of curses from her, Irene somehow realized that she had unlocked a new side of Wendy - the overprotective one, and Irene knows words being said in a normal tone would not work with Wendy right now. “Please…”

It worked. The way Wendy had abruptly stopped in her tracks means it somehow worked. The brunette’s tensed body relaxed in her arms. She could feel that the brunette was helping herself to calm down as well by trying to breathe in and breathe out, all of this while allowing Irene to embrace all the anger away.

Once Wendy had seemed to realize the guy was such a waste of time and strength, the secretary gently released Irene’s arms and turned around to face her.

“I’m sorry,” Wendy apologizes.

“He’s not worth it.”

Wendy nodded to her. “Are you okay?” Irene asked worriedly as she looked at Wendy’s beaten face.

"Uhm, it stings but I'm fine. Are you okay?" Wendy gently reached out for her wrist, the one that the guy gripped, and examined it. "Does it hurt?" she asked again, her face overwhelmed with worry.

Yes, his grip had left a burning sensation on Irene's skin, and it was certainly painful. However, the moment Wendy placed her hand on it, the moment she touched it, the pain seemed to vanish completely. Irene felt tears welling up in her eyes. Despite Wendy being the one who had taken a punch to the face, she was more concerned about Irene's well-being than her own..

"It doesn't hurt anymore…," she muttered. "I'm worried about you," the lady chief genuinely said.

Wendy was about to respond, but they were cut off by a panting Seulgi, who looked like she had trouble pushing herself through the thick crowd just to check on what happened to them.

"What happened to you guys??" Seulgi looked at Irene and Wendy with a very concerned look.

"Jung San happened." Wendy pointed at the grunting drunk guy on the floor, who is now being literally picked up by the bouncers, ready to throw him outside of the venue.

"That son of a ," Seulgi hissed. "I already banned him and his squad from coming in here. I guess I’ll have a talk with the security team.”

Irene raised a curious brow at Seulgi. “You own thi