Chapter 3 - The Mistress in the KitchenBack at the luxury suburban villa, the atmosphere was thick with triumphant celebration.
Ji-won poured two glasses of vintage Dom Pérignon, handing one to Min-jae as they stood by the kitchen island—the very spot where I had cooked his meals, ironed his suits, and listened to him complain about corporate ladders for seven years.
“I still can’t believe she didn't throw a tantrum,” Ji-won laughed, her voice tinkling like cheap glass as she leaned against Min-jae’s chest. “She just grabbed her ratty old suitcase and walked out into the rain like a stray dog.”
Min-jae took a sip of champagne, his eyes fixed on the empty hallway with a mixture of lingering annoyance and supreme arrogance. “Evelyn—excuse me, Seo-yeon—has always been boringly predictable. She has no pride, no backbone, and zero survival instincts. Without my name, she’s literally nothing.”
Madam Han walked into the kitchen, wrapped in a silk dressing gown, her face tight with a smug, victorious sneer. “She was always a charity case from a declining family, Min-jae. Giving her enough for a studio apartment outside the city was far more generous than she deserved. Did she sign the asset waiver?”
“She signed the receipt page,” Min-jae dismissed with a wave of his hand. “My lawyer will process the rest by Monday morning. With her signature on file, the court will rubber-stamp the property transfer, and our real estate holding company will officially absorb her grandfather’s old land trusts.”
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Ji-won wrapped her arms around Min-jae’s neck, kissing his cheek. “By next week, we’ll be the undisputed king and queen of Seoul’s luxury property market.”
None of them knew that the paper Seo-yeon had signed only acknowledged receipt of a fraudulent document—and that her real signature was already stamped on the supreme master deeds locked in a national depository.
