I awoke the next morning in a panic.

Hyerim’s body was drenched in sweat, and her heart was drumming against her chest. It was only 6:00 am, and I wasn’t due in to work for another two hours. But a thought had occurred to me while I was deep within a dream.

The gray briefcase was in Jinki’s car.

“, , ,” I cursed, pacing the floor of my bedroom with my phone in hand.

I thought of calling Jinki, but at this hour, for a briefcase, would only make him suspicious. On top of that, asking him to bring it to the office ran a risk of Kibum knowing I hadn’t disposed of it.

Then I thought to call Dr. Bradford, admitting to him that I had potentially jeopardized the mission, but I didn’t want to chance putting Jinki’s life at risk.

Because Dr. Bradford was desperate, and he would stop at nothing to intercept that case from Jinki.

No. I couldn’t put more people’s lives in danger.

I had to clean this mess myself.

I hurriedly readied for work and flagged a taxi. On the ride to the firm, I pondered all of the consequences of leaving the case in Jinki’s possession.

If he snooped, he would unveil the contents and partially discover a hideous truth. He would learn that Eunji’s life was a lie, and he would show the information to Kibum for sure.

There was no need to think about what would happen next. I already knew.

“Miss, we’re here,” the cab driver spoke, stretching his hand out around his seat, ready for his pay.

“Oh yes, thank you,” I nodded, reaching inside my purse to hand him a crisp bill.

“Have a good day,” he smiled at the money in his hand.

I rolled my eyes. It didn’t take a brain to know that money was his only motivation.

Stepping out of the cab, I saw Kibum’s black Lamborghini parked.

I checked my watch.

7:02 am.

He was early.

I walked up the steps and pulled on the heavy glass doors.

The front was eerily dark and quiet, majority of the staff having yet to arrive.

There was a strong odor of paint coming from the events room, and it was the only lit area in the visible part of the building.

The click of my heels against the marble floors echoed in the sprawling vestibule.

Shuffling sounded from the events room, followed with a drop of something small.

“Everything okay?” I called out.

The movement stopped, then footsteps sounded.

I stood in place, waiting for someone to emerge from the room.

Kibum appeared, partly lit by the light of the events room, the other half hidden in the shadows of the foyer.

He was fitted in yet another professional suit, but nothing else about him looked put together. His face fell in a way that made his exhaustion evident. However, his eyes weren’t red with fatigue; they were red from constant crying.

I walked to him and placed my hand on his shadow-covered cheek.

He said nothing as he lifted my hand from his face and pulled me into the light of the events room.

Standing under the elegant crystal chandelier, he let my hand fall to my side and stared at me.

“What’s wrong?” I whispered.

The sound of my voice rang louder in the emptiness of the room.

“Arisa left last night, and she hasn’t come home.” He balled his fists and clenched his jaw.

It took everything I had not to roll my eyes.

He was in the event room, an hour before the offices opened, crying because his fiancé left?

“Why did she leave?” I asked instead.

“Because I told her I didn’t believe she loved me.”

“Yeah, that could make a woman leave,” I nodded, patting his shoulder sarcastically.

He jerked his body away from me.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I was just trying to lighten things up a bit.”

He nodded and walked away from me, placing his hands in his pockets and pac