The last of the journalists had finally departed, their cameras packed away, their notebooks filled with glowing prose about the spa's elegance and the promise of its exclusive services. The main hall was quiet now, the staff efficiently clearing away empty champagne flutes and rearranging furniture for the night's private event.
Joon-ho sat in one of the private rooms on the upper level, a thick file spread across his lap. The information on Lee Seo-yeon was comprehensive—background checks, financial records, even notes on her daily routines and preferences. Hyerim had been thorough.
Yurin sat beside him on the plush sofa, her legs curled beneath her, a small bowl of sliced fruit resting on her knee. She picked up a piece of melon with her fingers and held it to his lips. Joon-ho accepted it without looking up from the file, chewing slowly, his eyes scanning the page.
"Another?" Yurin asked, already reaching for a slice of pear.
