Chapter Text
Lee Minho hated her life.
She was someone who had fought for every scrap of respect only to be dismissed, time and time again. The only child of the powerful Lee family, heads of Lee International, Minho had been born into wealth, but not love.
Her parents had wanted a son. Someone to inherit the empire of logistics, real estate, and finance they had built.
No achievement, no award, no deal she closed was ever enough. Because at the end of the day, she was just their daughter. A pawn to marry off for a merger, to tie the Lee name to another powerful family.
Now, at twenty-eight, they were pushing her toward the inevitable… marriage to the heir of Yoon, Yoon Heejae. A man she barely knew and certainly didn’t love. Their engagement wasn’t public yet, her parents were still negotiating terms. But the date was as good as set.
So Minho ran.
One night, she left the house of gilded cages and expectations. She didn’t care where she ended up. She just needed air. She needed to feel like a person, not a pawn. That’s how she found herself in a bar whose name she didn’t see, sitting in the dim light, downing shot after shot until the tightness in her chest loosened.
That’s when she noticed him.
At the end of the bar sat a man who looked like he belonged anywhere but here. His suit was neat despite the late hour, his posture ramrod straight. His drink sat untouched, ice melting into amber. His eyes sharp, tired, distant, stared through the glass like it held the answers to all his problems.
Minho, buzzed and reckless, slid onto the stool beside him.
“You look like you hate your life,” she slurred, chin resting on her hand.
He turned, startled. His face was prettier up close than she’d expected. Clean lines, soft mouth, eyes that seemed too kind for how hard they looked.
“I don’t hate my life,” he said carefully.
“Well, you look like you do.” She waved a hand at his tie. “You look like your suit’s choking you.”
He, although coldly, huffed a soft laugh, surprised at himself for finding amusement in anything tonight. “And you’re too drunk to be making judgments.”
She grinned. “I’m Minho. What’s your name?”
Although hesitant but he’s already drunk so, “Seungmin.”
No last names. No companies. No history. Just Minho and Seungmin.
“Well, Seungmin,” she said, “I have a problem.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“My parents are trying to sell me off to the highest bidder. I’m supposed to marry some heir. Secure the family’s future. Like I’m a company asset.”
His gaze flickered. “That sounds… familiar.”
“Oh? You too?”
“Something like that.” Seungmin finally sipped his drink. The burn steadied him. “Parents. Expectations. The usual.”
“That sucks” Minho said.
And then silence followed.
But after a while Minho leaned closer, mischief gleaming in her eyes. “Let’s get married.”
Seungmin blinked. “What?”
“I dare you,” she said, giggling. “Let’s get married. You hate your life, I hate mine. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Logic screamed at him to walk away. But the drink, the loneliness, the weariness, they all blurred into something reckless.
“Okay,” he said.
And so they did.
They stumbled into a tiny, late-night marriage office. Signed papers they barely saw. Bought cheap rings from a stall outside. Shared a clumsy kiss neither of them would remember clearly.
Minho woke to a splitting headache and unfamiliar sheets. Sunlight spilled through the curtains, too bright, too real.
She groaned, rubbing her temples and froze.
A weight on her finger. A ring. A wedding ring.
Panic flooded her veins. She sat up too fast, vision swimming, and saw him.
Seungmin. Sitting in a chair by the window, already awake, his jacket folded on his lap, shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows. His hair was slightly messy, his eyes serious, but not unkind.
He didn’t look surprised. Just… waiting.
“You’re awake,” he said quietly.
Minho’s heart pounded. “What… what the hell happened last night?”
Seungmin exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “We got married.”
Her eyes widened. “Married?”
“You dared me,” he reminded her, lips twitching humorlessly. “And I was drunk enough to say yes.”
“Oh god,” she muttered, staring at the ring. “This—this can’t… I mean, we can undo this, right?”
“That was my plan,” he said calmly. “I didn’t want to wake you until I had time to think.”
Minho slumped back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling. “This is a disaster.”
Seungmin’s voice firm. “We can fix it. Quietly. No one has to know. We don’t even know each other’s identity. This doesn’t have to be complicated.”
And for a moment, they sat in silence. Strangers tied together by one night’s foolishness, two lonely souls who’d tried to outrun their lives and tripped right into each other.
Neither of them realizing that beyond that hotel room, their names, Lee Minho, heir of Lee International, and Kim Seungmin, CEO of Kim Technological Innovations were destined to collide in far bigger ways than a drunken marriage.
Minho sank back into the sheets, groaning. She stared at the ceiling like it might offer an escape.
Beside the window, Seungmin stayed quiet, watching her with unreadable eyes. His fingers tapped once against the arm of the chair, thoughtful but reserved.
“Okay,” she finally muttered, dragging a hand down her face. “We need to undo this. Quietly. Before it spirals into something… worse.”
“I agree,” Seungmin said, his voice low but firm. “No one knows. There’s no reason this should get messy. We can annul it before it even touches reality.”
Minho glanced at him, still bleary but taking him in more fully now. He was… infuriatingly composed for someone who’d just gotten married by accident. And polite. Gentlemanly. The kind of man who probably held doors open and helped little old ladies cross the street. But there was something cold in his manner, like he’d built walls so high no one could see inside.
Typical perfect businessman, she thought, and for some reason, that made her want to mess with him just a little.
“Oh wow,” she said, smirking despite herself. “A proper plan already? Are you always this boring, Seungmin?”
His brows lifted just slightly at her tone. “I wouldn’t call fixing a mistake boring.”
“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” Minho propped her chin on her hand, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Come on, live a little. Maybe we can have a scandal. A sordid affair. Give the tabloids something to chew on.”
His lips twitched not quite a smile, but close. “Is this you trying to lighten the mood?”
“Maybe. Is it working?”
“A little.” He gave a soft huff of amusement, shaking his head. “But really. We should set a time to go to the office. We can file for annulment. No one needs to know, not your family, not mine.”
Minho sighed, sobering again. “Yeah. I don’t want them involved. Especially right now.”
“Why especially now?” Seungmin asked, curious despite himself.
Before she could answer, her phone, discarded on the bedside table, began to ring, vibrating with an intensity that seemed far too loud in the quiet room.
Minho groaned again. “Who in the hell—”
She grabbed it, squinting at the caller ID. And instantly, her stomach dropped.
Dad.
She froze. Her father’s name glared at her from the screen, the weight of his voice already echoing in her mind.
Seungmin watched her, expression turning more attentive. “Everything okay?”
“No,” she muttered, thumb hesitating over the answer button. But there was no choice. If she didn’t answer, he’d make it worse.
She hit accept and lifted the phone to her ear.
“Where are you?” her father’s voice boomed the second the call connected. No hello. No concern. Just anger. “Do you think this is a game, Minho? Running off in the middle of the night like some spoiled brat? You’re supposed to act like a Lee. Not like some… child.”
Minho bit the inside of her cheek, trying to stay calm. “I just needed air. I’m fine.”
“Fine? Fine?! You left without a word. And now you’re telling me you’re fine? We have things to discuss. Important things. Come home. Now.”
Her heart sank. She knew what this was about. The engagement. Yoon Heejae. The arrangement she didn’t want, being forced back onto the table.
“I’ll be there soon,” she said quietly. And before he could add more, she hung up, heart racing, head pounding anew.
Seungmin was watching her, gaze steady but not prying. “Family trouble?”
“You could say that.” Minho rubbed at her temples. “My dad wants me home. There’s… some family business they’re trying to tie me into. I don’t really have a choice.”
Seungmin studied her for a beat, then stood, straightening his jacket. “I’ll drive you.”
She blinked. “What?”
“I’ll drive you,” he repeated, as if it were obvious. “You’re in no state to go on your own. Besides, it’s the least I can do. This whole thing, it’s partly my fault too.”
“You don’t have to,” she said, though a small part of her was touched. Surprised. No one ever offered without wanting something.
“I insist.” His tone was polite but firm, the kind that didn’t invite argument. “Consider it… my first act of chivalry as your accidental husband.”
Minho snorted despite herself. “Wow. So gallant. You really take this gentleman thing seriously, huh?”
He smiled, small, but genuine this time. “Maybe. Humor me.”
“Fine. But don’t think this makes us friends or anything.” She grabbed her coat, swaying a little as she stood.
Seungmin was instantly at her side, steadying her with a hand at her elbow. “Easy.”
“See? Gentleman,” she teased, grinning. “Are you always like this, or am I just special?”
He didn’t miss a beat. “You’re special. Not everyone marries me after knowing me for an hour.”
She laughed. A real one, light and warm despite the mess they were in. “Touché.”
They made their way down to the parking lot. Seungmin’s car was as neat and precise as he was, sleek black, not flashy, but expensive if you knew where to look.
He opened the passenger door for her. “After you.”
Minho slid in, glancing at him as he rounded to the driver’s side. “You’re really serious about the gentleman thing.”
“I’m serious about getting you home safely,” he said, starting the engine. “Let’s focus on that.”
Minho grinned, buckling in. “I’m going to tease you about this for as long as I know you.”
“Hopefully that won’t be long,” he said, but there was no malice in it. Just quiet honesty.
The drive was mostly quiet at first, filled with the hum of the city waking up and the occasional soft sound of Seungmin’s turn signal. But Minho, never one to sit in silence for too long when there was tension, shifted in her seat and glanced sideways at him.
“Hey,” she said suddenly, sitting up straighter, “don’t take me all the way to my house.”
Seungmin gave her a quick look, brow slightly furrowed. “Why not?”
She smirked. “Do you want to get me murdered?”
His eyes widened a fraction. “What?”
Minho crossed her arms and grinned. “If my family sees me getting out of some man’s car, they’ll either have a heart attack or accuse me of running off with a stranger. Well—” she laughed to herself, “I guess technically I did, but let’s not make it worse.”
Seungmin huffed a reluctant laugh. “Fair enough. Where do you want me to drop you?”
“There’s a mall near our house. Just drop me there. I’ll handle the rest of the way like a good little daughter.”
He hesitated. “Are you sure?”
Minho rolled her eyes, playful. “Yes, I’m sure, oh noble knight. You’re really committed to this act, aren’t you?”
He gave her a side glance, his mouth twitching as if he was holding back a smirk. “What can I say? I’m good at this.”
“You’re lucky I find that kind of annoying in a charming way.”
“Oh, lucky,” he echoed, amused now.
The car pulled up in front of the mall as instructed. Seungmin parked neatly, cutting the engine but not unlocking the doors right away. He turned to her, a little more serious.
“We should decide when to meet about the annulment,” he said. “I’ll need to check my schedule, but I can make time. It shouldn’t take long.”
Minho nodded, stretching her arms above her head with a groan. “Yeah. Just let me know. I’m pretty flexible. Well, no, I’m not, but I’ll make time for this.” She grinned at him. “This is kind of important.”
“I’ll text you after I check my calendar,” Seungmin said. “What’s your number?”
They both reached for their phones, exchanging digits. Minho watched him as they typed, noticing how precise even his thumbs were on the screen. Probably types emails at the speed of light.
“Got it,” Seungmin said, sliding his phone into his pocket. He paused, then added, “Message me when you’re home. Just so I know you made it okay.”
Minho arched a brow, teasing. “Aw. Look at you. Worried about me already?”
“I’d do the same for anyone,” he said simply.
She snorted, opening her door. “Sure you would, Prince Charming. Alright, I’ll text you, since you asked so nicely.”
Seungmin shook his head, smiling just a little despite himself. “Take care, Minho.”
“You too, Seungmin. And hey, try to have some fun today. You look like you haven’t had any in years.”
He opened his mouth to reply, but she was already out of the car, giving him a jaunty little wave over her shoulder as she walked off.
Minho kept her pace brisk, sneaking glances over her shoulder until Seungmin’s car disappeared from view. Only then did she slow, exhaling deeply.
“He’s something else,” she muttered to herself, shaking her head. He was cold, sure. Distant in that way people got when they built walls to keep the world out. But he was polite, and strangely considerate. That was new. And weirdly refreshing.
She reached her house within ten minutes, feeling her headache throb a little less now that the weight of secrecy was off her shoulders.
When she entered the grand, empty foyer, she braced herself for the storm but instead was met with quiet. The housekeeper appeared from the side hall, drying her hands on a towel.
“Oh, Miss Minho. You’re home.”
Minho blinked. “Where are my parents? I thought—”
“They left just a few minutes ago, miss. There’s been some issue at one of the factories. Something urgent. They’ll be gone for a week, maybe longer.”
Minho’s mouth fell open, and then she let out the biggest sigh of relief she’d released in ages. “Oh thank god.”
Mrs. Jang gave her a puzzled look. “Beg pardon?”
“Nothing, Mrs. Jang. Thanks.”
Minho made a beeline for the stairs, already feeling the tension slide off her shoulders. A week of peace. A week without lectures or accusations or discussions about engagements.
But as she flopped onto her bed, her phone buzzed with a new message. She groaned, grabbed it, and sure enough, a text from her father.
You’ll attend the Gala for Hope charity event in two days. Represent the family well. We expect you to handle the usual networking. We’ll brief you on details before the event.
Minho rolled her eyes so hard it hurt. Of course. The Charity Gala for Hope. A glittering event for the so-called “elite.” Full of sharp smiles and sharper deals. Half the people there were just hunting for the next marriage connection or business alliance.
“Ugh,” she groaned aloud, dragging a pillow over her face. “Kill me now.”
She stared at the ceiling for a minute, then remembered Seungmin. His request. His kindness.
Minho smirked to herself, sat up, and shot him a message.
Minho
Hey, this is Minho. I’m home, safe and sound. No need to worry. Thanks for being my knight in shiny imported car. 😉
A moment later, a reply came through.
Seungmin
Glad to hear it. And I don’t drive imported. It’s domestic. Korean-made.
She laughed, feeling the tension of the morning melt further. Interesting guy, she thought. Not in a romantic way, god no, she had enough complications, but as a person. Someone different.
And somewhere, not far away, Seungmin sat back in his chair, phone still in hand, thinking much the same.
Feisty. Bold. Not the type to tiptoe around anyone.