Chapter Text
Doyoung never thought being laid off would land him here. In his early thirties, he was now the CEO of one of the most sought-after matchmaking companies in the city, a business that started as a joke, or maybe a gamble, depending on how you looked at it.
It started when Doyoung was killing time between interviews. Even after he’d left the office, someone from his old department kept roping him into organizing mixers. He didn’t know how it happened, one minute he was arranging tables, the next he was nudging two strangers into conversation and watching sparks fly.
Jobless, restless, and slightly amused at his own reputation, he kept doing it. And that was when he ran into Joy again. Joy, his wealthy college friend who’d cycled through hobbies the way other people changed outfits. Painting. Pilates. A skincare line that almost but never quite launched. Nothing ever stuck. But that night, as she circled the room with a glass of champagne, she found herself watching Doyoung instead of the crowd.
“You’re wasting a gift,” she said when she drifted over, her smile wicked and knowing.
Doyoung blinked. “What gift?”
“This.” She swept her glass to indicate the couples he’d left laughing together. “The matchmaking. You’re disgustingly good at it.”
He laughed, embarrassed. “Joy, it’s not— I’m just,”
“You’re jobless,” she cut in, matter-of-fact. “And I’m bored. Let’s do something about it. Start a business, I’ll invest.”
She said it like a joke, but her gaze lingered long enough that he knew she meant it.
Who could’ve thought it would turn into a real business? What began as a favor for bored coworkers had grown into one of the city’s most prestigious matchmaking companies.
The thought drifted through his mind before the knock on his office door pulled him back. His secretary entered, placing a pink-colored envelope on his desk.
“Another wedding invitation,” she said.
Doyoung blinked. He reached for the envelope, his lips twitching when he recognized the names. Another couple he had introduced months ago now walking down the aisle.
“That makes ninety-nine,” his secretary added with a smile.
Not every match he arranged made it that far, of course. Some fizzled out after a few months, others never made it past the first fight. He always earned his fee once the couple officially began dating, but if they walked down the aisle within two years? That was where the real commission came in. Weddings weren’t just celebrations of love—they were milestones for his company’s reputation, proof that his instincts were right.
He leaned back in his chair, tapping the envelope against his palm.
“One more,” he murmured to himself. “The hundredth wedding. That’ll be something.”
And for the first time in a long while, Doyoung felt a sharp eagerness, to find the next match.
Doyoung found himself staring at the invitation again. The names in gold script blurred the longer he looked.
Ninety-nine weddings. Ninety-nine happy clients.
And him? Still single. Ironically, the man who could pair strangers in a heartbeat was still single.
It wasn’t that he minded. He liked his life. He liked his quiet mornings, the freedom of not having to explain late nights at the office, the simple joy of knowing his fridge only needed enough food for one. He wasn’t lonely, not really. His work gave him purpose, and the steady stream of couples he matched reminded him he was good at what he did.
But sometimes, like now, an itch of doubt crept in.
How did it look, the so-called “love expert” with no love life of his own? Would clients start to wonder if his single status meant he didn’t believe in love at all? That he was selling something he couldn’t buy for himself?
He exhaled and pushed the invitation aside. He didn’t need a partner. He was fine. Happy, even.
Still… as the hundredth wedding loomed, the thought gnawed at him.
Would the company’s success shine brighter, if he wasn’t the only exception to it?
“Well, well, well. Congratulations, Mr. CEO, for the ninety-ninth wedding.”
Doyoung looked up just as Joy breezed into his office, sunglasses still perched on her head like she’d just stepped off a runway. She grinned, tossing the words like confetti. “As your generous investor, I hereby allow you to take a leave of absence. Go relax. You’ve earned it.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Right. Because you’d totally keep this place running without me.”
Joy plopped herself into the chair across from him, unbothered. She never did much with the day-to-day operations, and they both knew it. But she didn’t have to. Joy’s real contribution was her connections, being the daughter of one of the most influential families in the city came with perks. Their client list was built on names whispered in golf clubs, galas, and private auctions. People too busy, or maybe too proud, to be caught fumbling on dating apps.
Joy would swoop in with that sly smile, dropping their company’s name at just the right moment. And suddenly, Doyoung had another client from a prestigious family, practically delivered with a bow.
He could handle the rest.
“You know,” Joy continued, crossing her legs, “the hundredth wedding is going to make headlines. I can see it already: ‘The Matchmaker Who Never Misses.’”
Doyoung laughed again, though this time, the sound held something a little tighter in it.
“The hundredth wedding…” he echoed, tapping the invitation against his desk. “Yeah. That’ll be something.”
Joy leaned forward, her grin turning conspiratorial. “I think our next client should be someone really special. Imagine the buzz if we make him our hundredth wedding. A highlight for the company. A legacy.” She tapped her manicured nail on his desk. “I really should find the perfect client.”
Doyoung arched a brow. “You make it sound like we’re gonna get the Greek God himself as our client.”
“Well, aren’t we?” she shot back, eyes gleaming. “Don’t you want number one hundred to be more than just another couple? It has to be the couple. A name that shines, a story that sells.”
He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Careful, Joy. You sound like you’re planning a marketing campaign, not someone’s love life.”
Joy smirked. “Darling, in this business, they’re the same thing.”
Doyoung shook his head, but he couldn’t deny a flicker of curiosity. The hundredth wedding… it would be something.
Joy stood, smoothing her skirt with a theatrical flourish. “Wait and be ready,” she declared, eyes glittering with mischief. “I’ll find the perfect client for you.”
She laughed as she headed for the door, the sound bright and unbothered.
Doyoung, however, felt his stomach sink.
He knew that tone, that spark in her eye. Joy was at her most dangerous when she was excited. And clearly, this was her at her most ambitious.
“Joy—” he started, but she waved him off without turning back.
“Trust me, CEO. You’ll thank me later.”
The door clicked shut, leaving him alone in the quiet office with nothing but a gold-trimmed wedding invitation and a growing sense of dread.
Because if there was one thing he knew for certain, it was this: when Joy set her sights on something, there was no stopping her.
Doyoung thought he was prepared for anything. He wasn’t.
The moment the office door opened, every head in the lobby turned. Conversations faltered. His employees, usually calm, professional, actually gasped.
And Doyoung saw why.
The man who stepped in looked like he belonged on the cover of a magazine. Tall, sharp-featured, with a kind of effortless charisma that made the air shift around him. He carried himself with the confidence of someone used to being watched, admired. Maybe the Greek God really step into his office.
Doyoung’s heart gave a tiny, traitorous lurch.
“Hello,” the man said simply, his deep voice curling through the space. “Joy recommended me.”
Joy. Of course.
Doyoung was on his feet in an instant, ushering him past the gawking employees and into his office. He tried to summon his professional mask, but his pulse jumped again when the man handed him a sleek name card.
His breath caught. Johnny Suh.
The Johnny Suh. Grandson of that conglomerate. The name Joy was always dropping into conversation as though it were a myth or a prize. Doyoung had never paid much attention, he had no interest in Joy’s endless rich-friend drama. And now, somehow, he was standing in Doyoung’s office.
Doyoung barely had time to process before he noticed the small figure half-hidden behind Johnny’s leg. A child, big-eyed, clutching a tiny backpack.
“I heard you’re the one who can help me find someone. I’m planning to get married, but…” he gestured lightly, almost casual, “I’ve got a kid.”
Doyoung blinked. The words didn’t fit with any box his company had ever operated in. They had strict rules, no dependents, no messy family entanglements. Clients were supposed to be clean slates ready for matchmaking.
His mouth went dry.
Never, not once, had his company taken on someone with a kid.
And yet here Johnny Suh stood, watching him expectantly.
Joy’s ambition, it seemed, had finally gone too far.
Doyoung straightened in his chair, forcing his voice into its usual calm register. “Mr. Suh, thank you for coming to us and for trusting our company. We appreciate the connection with my partner, Joy.” He offered a polite smile, even as his mind spun. “But I should be honest. We’ve… never taken on clients with children.”
Johnny raised a brow, utterly unfazed. “Is that so?”
“Yes,” Doyoung continued carefully. “Our process is designed around people starting fresh. Couples building a foundation together. Having a child changes… everything.”
At that, Johnny gave a quiet chuckle. It wasn’t mocking exactly, but it sent a prickle down Doyoung’s spine.
“My grandmother has been bugging me to get married for years,” Johnny said matter-of-factly, resting a hand on his child’s shoulder. “I figured, why not give matchmaking a try? If anyone could manage it, it would be Joy’s so-called genius partner.”
Doyoung blinked. “…Excuse me?”
“Joy speaks highly of you. She never mentioned kids would be an issue.” Johnny tilted his head, a half-smile tugging at his mouth. “Unless, of course, you’re not up to the challenge
The words were casual, almost lazy. But they landed like a spark to dry tinder.
Heat flared in Doyoung’s chest. He’d built his entire company on challenges, on people saying this one is impossible and then proving them wrong. And now this man, this unfairly handsome heir with his impossible request, was daring him to back down?
His pride roared before his reason could intervene.
“Challenge accepted,” Doyoung said, the words sharp and reckless even as they left his mouth.
Johnny’s smile deepened, slow and knowing. “Good. I look forward to working with you.”
And just like that, Doyoung realized he might have made the most dangerous promise of his career.
They exchanged contacts quickly, Johnny tapping Doyoung’s number into his phone before sliding his card across the desk.
“I can’t go through the procedure now,” Johnny said as he rose, his child tugging at his sleeve. “School drop-off. I just wanted to make sure we connected, my schedule’s tight.”
Before Doyoung could gather a proper response, Johnny was already at the door. “I’ll be in touch.”
And then he was gone. Just like that.
Doyoung sat frozen for a beat, staring at the closed door, before snatching up his phone and stabbing Joy’s number.
She answered on the third ring, breezy as always. “So? Did you faint when you saw him? I bet you did.”
“Joy.” His voice came out sharper than intended. “Why the hell would you dump a client with a kid on me? You know we don’t take those cases!”
There was a pause, then the unmistakable sound of her stifling a laugh. “But you like kids.”
Doyoung nearly dropped his phone. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“It means,” Joy replied, perfectly unbothered, “you’ll figure it out.”
“Where am I going to find a match who wants a kid?” Doyoung snapped. “Our entire client database doesn’t even consider that a possibility. We’ve never screened for it!”
“Relax, Doyoung.” Joy’s tone was maddeningly calm, like she was discussing brunch plans. “We’ll find the match for Johnny. I mean…you can.”
Her casual confidence made him feel like he was going crazy. “And if we fail? Joy, do you understand who Johnny Suh is? If this goes badly, he’s influential enough to tank our reputation with future prospects!”
“You’re not going to fail,” Joy said smoothly. Then, without missing a beat, added, “And if you do, I’ll share half my inheritance with you.”
He froze. “…What?”
But she only laughed, already moving on. “Anyway, I need to run. Don’t stress out, okay? Just take the rest of the day off. I’ll see you later.”
And just like that, she hung up, leaving him staring at his phone in disbelief.
Joy was impossible. Absolutely impossible.
If she wasn’t his oldest friend, and the biggest shareholder of his company, he would’ve killed her by now.
Instead, he dragged a hand over his face, groaning into the empty office.
The hundredth wedding was supposed to be a celebration. Instead, it already felt like the start of a disaster.
“So you already came to my office, huh? I wasn’t expecting you to show up so fast.” Joy’s voice was bright over the line. “My partner nearly crashed and burned the second you walked in. What did you say to him?”
“I thought you were going to be there,” Johnny replied flatly.
“I don’t run the day-to-day operation. I just bring in clients and invest. I’m not chained to that office desk like Doyoung.”
Johnny sighed. “You set me up. You paraded this matchmaking business in front of my grandmother, and now I have no choice but to show my face. Otherwise, she’ll keep nagging me to death. Fine, I came. You can tell her that.”
Joy’s laughter was light, infuriatingly so. “Set you up? Please. I was just doing my job, landing a big client. And you’re not done. You haven’t even filled out a single form yet.”
Johnny gripped the steering wheel, jaw tightening. He didn’t even need to see her face to know, Joy was grinning on the other end of the line, probably looking smug as hell.
That alone made his blood boil hotter.
She always had that grin, the one that said she was five steps ahead and enjoying every second of it. And now, thanks to her, he was roped into this ridiculous matchmaking stunt just to quiet his grandmother.
He exhaled hard through his nose, glancing at the rearview mirror where his kid sat humming softly, swinging their legs. His irritation faltered for a moment. He hadn’t wanted to drag them into this mess, but what choice did he have?
Johnny pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering, “You’re the worst.”
Then he hung up, tossing the phone into the passenger seat with a little more force than necessary.