Chapter 7 - THE REUNION IN THE CORNER OFFICEBy two o'clock that afternoon, I stood on the fiftieth floor of Blackridge Capital.
The name on the frosted glass door of the executive corner office had already been changed. The gold letters didn't say Monica Shaw anymore.
They read: EVELYN PARK, CHIEF EXECUTIVE OFFICER.
I wore a sharply tailored charcoal pantsuit, my hair pinned back in a sleek chignon. The cardboard box containing my chipped coffee mug and jade plant sat neatly on the executive mahogany desk.
The door clicked open, and Jae walked in.
He closed it behind him, locking it with a quiet click that sounded entirely different from the electronic slam that had locked me out three days ago.
He walked across the plush carpet, stopped in front of my desk, and looked down at me with a faint, almost imperceptible smile touching the corners of his mouth.
"How does the office look?" he asked softly.
"A bit spacious," I replied, standing up and walking around the desk to stand in front of him. "And the previous tenant left a terrible mess in the financial records."
Jae reached out, his warm fingers gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "It's cleaned up now. The auditors are already scrubbing the legacy accounts. By tomorrow morning, every fraudulent entry will be erased, and Blackridge will be fully integrated into Park Holdings' clean portfolio."
I looked up into his dark, steady eyes—eyes that held the weight of an empire, yet softened whenever they rested on me.
"You bought a multi-million-dollar corporation just because three people laughed at me in the lobby?" I asked, a mix of disbelief and deep, unshakeable warmth swelling in my chest.
"They didn't just laugh at you," Jae corrected quietly, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw. "They underestimated the woman I love. That is an expensive mistake in Chicago. In Seoul. Anywhere."
I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him close, burying my face against the familiar scent of cedar and clean linen.
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"Thank you, Jae," I whispered against his shoulder.
"Don't thank me," he murmured, kissing the top of my head. "Just finish your audit. We have dinner reservations at eight, and you promised you'd be home on time today."
