Chapter Text
Seulgi wasn’t expecting a family meeting to ruin her weekend. She was halfway through her second slice of pizza, sprawled on the floor in a hoodie that still smelled like sleep, when her mother cleared her throat with that very specific tone. The one she used when she needed Seulgi to stop being a teenager and start being a “daughter of the Woo family.”
She knew something was up when her father shut off the TV mid-baseball replay. He never misses the ninth inning.
“Seulgi,” her mother said gently. “We have something important to tell you.”
She blinked, half a string of cheese hanging from her mouth. “Am I adopted?”
Her father chuckled. Her mother did not.
“Seulgi-yah,” her father began, clasping his hands together. “Do you remember Uncle Taejoon? The man who used to send you Christmas cards with the giraffes on them?”
Seulgi frowned. “Yoo Taejoon? Your college roommate?”
“Yes,” her mother said with a tight smile. “He’s been a great friend to our family. Helped your father start his first company, supported us when things were rough. We owe him a great deal.”
Seulgi’s eyes narrowed. “Okay…?”
Her father inhaled, like he was bracing for impact. “And so, to solidify the relationship between our families, we’ve decided… that you’ll marry his daughter.”
Silence.
Seulgi stared. “Come again?”
“You’ll marry the second daughter of the Yoo family,” her mother said, hands folded neatly in her lap.
Seulgi blinked. Then laughed. “What, like, actually marry?”
Her father nodded. “When you’re older. Twenty-five. You won’t have to worry about anything until then.”
“What’s her name?” Seulgi asked, sitting back.
“Yoo Jaeyi.”
The name meant nothing to her. No face came to mind. She knew of Yoo Jena, the eldest, already a polished fixture in the business world. But Jaeyi? She wasn’t in any tabloids. No social media. No event photos.
“She’s never been photographed,” her father said, as if reading her thoughts. “Taejoon keeps her out of the public eye. Very private.”
“...So I’m being betrothed to a ghost ?”
“Not a ghost,” her mother chided. “A very bright, promising young woman from a good family. And it’s just an agreement. Nothing binding until you’re older.”
Seulgi slumped deeper into the couch. “What if I say no?”
Her mother tilted her head. “You won’t.”
“You guys are being manipulative,” she mumbled.
“We’re being hopeful,” her father corrected, eyes warm behind his glasses. “You’re our only daughter. This is important. And... Taejoon helped me when I had nothing. I can’t say no to this.”
Seulgi scoffs in surprise. “You’re really serious.”
“As serious as the Yoo family,” her father said. “They’ve already agreed. And Jaeyi, well, she’s aware of the arrangement.”
“I…I don’t…” Seulgi sighs, looking at her mom. “Do I have to?”
Her mother reached across the coffee table and squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to decide anything now. We’re just telling you the plan. The engagement will be kept private until you’re both of age.”
Seulgi groaned, flopping back onto the floor dramatically. “What if I fall in love with someone else?”
“You won’t,” her father said. “You’re very picky.”
Her mother added, “Honestly, Seulgi-yah, you’ve got impossible standards.”
There was a long pause.
Then Seulgi sighed.
“Fine. Whatever. As long as I don’t have to get married until I’m twenty-five. And I never have to say the words ‘I do’ while still in braces.”
“Of course,” her mother said, beaming.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” her father added. “We’re very proud of you.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Seulgi muttered, reaching for her cold pizza. “I’ve got nine years to hope that you guys will change your mind.”
As she bit into the slice, her eyes drifted to the name in her mind.
Yoo Jaeyi.
The girl no one had seen.
The ghost daughter of Korea’s most powerful family.
Her future wife.
The Yoo estate was quiet at sunrise.
Not the stillness of peace, but precision. The kind of silence built by generations of expectation, polished floors, and unspoken rules. At sixteen, Yoo Jaeyi had already learned that silence was often louder than words.
She sat in her father’s study, the morning light cutting in geometric lines across the table. Her uniform blazer was perfectly pressed. Her expression, unreadable.
Across from her, Yoo Taejoon folded his hands and spoke with the calm confidence of a man used to being obeyed.
“There’s been an agreement between our family and the Woos,” he said. “You will marry their daughter when the time comes.”
Jaeyi did not react. Not even a blink.
“The Woos have been good to us,” he continued. “And we to them. It’s time to make that bond permanent.”
“I see…”
“It’s already arranged,” he added. “You’ll be twenty-five by then. There’s no pressure to make it anything more than it needs to be.”
Jaeyi let the words settle, like ink in water. Then, finally:
“Which daughter?”
Taejoon paused. “The only one. Woo Seulgi.”
Another pause. Jaeyi reached for her tea, graceful and deliberate.
“I assume this is final.”
“It is,” he said. “There won’t be a public announcement. Not until you’re both older. Until then, you’re free to live as you please.”
That earned her first reaction, a slight lift of her brow. “As I please?”
“So long as you understand where the road ends.”
Jaeyi let that sit in the air between them, like steam from hot tea.
Finally, she spoke again. “Woo Seulgi.”
“Yes.”
“Does she know?”
“She agreed.”
Jaeyi’s eyes lowered, lashes casting delicate shadows on her cheeks. “Then I suppose she’s more obedient than I expected.”
“Her parents say she’s bright,” Taejoon said. “Charming. Capable.”
Jaeyi’s mouth twitched, almost, almost a smile. “Sounds exhausting.”
“She’ll be your responsibility in time.”
She nods after a short while. “I’ll make sure I don’t embarrass the family.”
“You never do.”
Jaeyi stood, smoothing her skirt. “If’s that all, I better get going.”
“Do you not have anything to ask?” Taejoon stands as well, getting ready to leave.
Jaeyi tilted her head slightly, as if considering. “Will I like her?”
Her father blinked. “Does it matter?”
Jaeyi turned toward the door. “Not really.”
But that night, alone in her room, she searched the Woo family’s name.
There were plenty of articles. Company wins, business awards. A few family photos.
Woo Dohyeok and his wife.
And in the corner of one shot, barely visible, slightly turned away, was a teenage girl with a dimpled smile and full bangs.
Woo Seulgi.
Jaeyi stared at the grainy image.
Then closed the tab.
“Cute,” she murmured.
9 years later…
The ballroom glittered with chandeliers, every crystal catching the light like a camera flash. Champagne flutes clinked, heels clicked over marble, and every guest present had something in common: power, money, or the hunger for both.
Tonight, the Yoo family was unveiling their elusive second daughter.
Yoo Jaeyi.
The name that had followed whispers for years.
She had never been photographed, never appeared at a gala or launch. The public knew her only by her name, her impeccable university record, and the distant promise that she’d one day lead one of the Yoo conglomerate's crown jewels.
Tonight, that promise would be made public.
Seulgi tugged at the bodice of her custom Dior gown for the fifth time in a minute, swearing the designer had underestimated both her ribs and her anxiety. The deep emerald silk clung to her figure, draping like water and cinching her waist with merciless elegance. Objectively, she looked good. Objectively, she might throw up.
She stood near the base of the grand staircase with her parents and cousin Kyung, a flute of untouched champagne in hand. It was chilled, but her palm felt sweaty. Everyone was here. Politicians, conglomerate heirs, foreign dignitaries, fashion royalty, and at least three idols Seulgi recognized but couldn’t name. All gathered to see the woman Seulgi had been promised for nearly a decade.
The whispers surrounded her.
“I heard she topped her class at Cambridge.”
“Apparently she speaks five languages.”
“She’s going to run Yoo Biotech. That’s a big deal for a 25-year old.”
“No one’s ever photographed her.”
“I heard she’s stunning.”
“Do you think she’s… single?”
Seulgi was trying to drink her champagne without visibly shaking when Kyung leaned over.
“You look like you’re about to faint,” she said, voice flat.
“Thank you for your support,” Seulgi muttered. “Am I too pale?”
“Oh yeah, for sure.”
“Kyung.”
“I’m kidding.” Pause. “You look sick.”
Seulgi groaned and bit her lips to try and make them red enough. She swallowed. Was it the nerves? Or the lack of dinner? She hadn’t eaten since a granola bar at noon, and even that felt like a decade ago.
Kyung sighs. “Should’ve eaten something. You’re really pale.”
“I was going to eat,” Seulgi hissed, “but then your mom asked me to take seventeen photos with the other board members’ sons.”
“That’s what you get for wearing that dress,” Kyung said dryly.
Seulgi glanced down. Okay, maybe the dress was dramatic. Deep emerald, backless, cinched at the waist, slit just high enough to cause minor heart attacks. She hadn’t worn it to impress anyone else.
Just… maybe… one person.
Around them, the murmurs stopped as a single spotlight hit the top of the grand staircase. Yoo Taejoon, sharp in a velvet tuxedo, stepped forward with a microphone.
The ballroom fell into reverent silence.
“Thank you for joining us this evening,” he began, smiling like a man who owned half the city and knew it. “Tonight marks a new chapter for our family. As many of you know, my eldest daughter, Yoo Jena, continues to lead Yoo International with grace and excellence. And now, I’m proud to introduce the next pillar of our legacy.”
He gestured toward the grand staircase, which rose in a red-carpeted spiral toward the second floor. Every head turned. Every camera lifted.
A pause. Breathless.
Then—
“Please welcome my second daughter, Yoo Jaeyi.”
Seulgi, poor, starving, anxious Seulgi swayed.
She told herself she was fine. That her stomach would stop knotting, that she was being dramatic, that she could make it another thirty seconds.
But her vision blurred. The last thing she heard was Kyung saying “Seulgi—” as the world titled sideways and her knees gave out like melted wax.
With a dramatic thud, Woo Seulgi collapsed to the floor in full view of the press, the business elite, and her future in-laws.
Someone gasped. Murmurs arose. Her mother sharply inhaled, “Seulgi-yah?!”
Kyung dropped her champagne and knelt beside her. “What the hell?!”
Woo Seulgi passed out.
Right before seeing her wife’s face for the first time.
Across the room, Jaeyi paused on the stairs, expression unreadable as ever.
She looked down at the woman unconscious in a heap of designer gown and pride.
And, just barely, the corner of her mouth quirked upward.
The ceiling was offensively ornate.
Seulgi blinked up at it, disoriented, the scent of lavender and shame hovering in the air like expensive perfume. Her head throbbed faintly. Her mouth was dry.
Where the hell?
“Water?”
The voice was low and smooth, a little amused. Female.
Seulgi turned her head and nearly forgot how to breathe.
Sitting across from her, legs crossed and posture annoyingly perfect, was a woman who looked like she’d been sculpted out of cold moonlight and private wealth. Her hair was sleek and dark, her dress understated but so elegant it had to cost more than Seulgi’s car. She held a glass of water in one hand, and in the other, a tablet, as if this entire situation were simply a minor interruption in her schedule.
And that face . Sharp, clear-cut beauty. Fox eyes, naturally arched brows, lips with a hint of a smirk like she already knew everything Seulgi was thinking.
Which, to be fair, was mostly:
Oh no she’s so hot.
She tried to sit up.
The woman lifted a brow, not moving from her seat. “Careful. You fainted.”
Seulgi flushed. “Right. Yeah. I do that. Occasionally.”
A pause.
The woman just stared at her, then wordlessly held out the glass of water.
Seulgi took it with both hands, still not speaking, still marveling at the way this stranger looked like she belonged on a Vogue cover and in a boardroom.
“Thanks…” she managed, voice raspy.
The woman said nothing.
Seulgi sipped, eyes still fixed. She couldn’t stop looking. Wow. This girl is beautiful.
Her mother had always said she had “impossible standards,” that no one would ever live up to her ridiculous checklist, someone smart, elegant, unreadable but a little mean, someone who could ruin her life and help her file taxes.
But this woman?
This woman ticked every single box.
Seulgi suddenly understood the poets. The ones who walked into wars for love. She briefly considered running away with this stranger, disappearing into Europe, and leaving her entire chaebol life behind. She could be normal. She could make candles. The idea of leaving Jaeyi behind didn’t even sting, which was saying something.
She opened her mouth to say something cool. Something charming.
Instead—
“You’re, um. Really symmetrical.”
The smirk deepened.
Then the woman set down her tablet, tilted her head slightly, and said:
“You embarrassed me and both our families.”
Seulgi froze. “…What.”
The woman quirked a brow and crossed her arms.
“Wait…wait. Wait.” Seulgi sat bolt upright, the headache forgotten.
The glass trembled in her hands.
“Are you—”
The woman looked directly at her, calm and cold and somehow amused, like she’d been waiting for this moment.
Seulgi stared.
Froze.
Then whispered, “…Yoo Jaeyi?”