A few days rolled by in that hazy, sex-fueled blur—Kook sneaking moments with Tae whenever Sana was out, pounding her in hidden corners of the house, her moans muffled against his hand while Haneul napped nearby. But then came the invite to this big rich-people party—a gala for Jeon Enterprises’ elite circle, black-tie bullshit with champagne and fake smiles. Kook had to go, and Sana? Fuck, she was thrilled, prancing around in her walk-in closet like a queen. “This dress is Versace, darling—new season,” she’d gush, twirling in the mirror, diamonds dripping from her neck and ears. “And these earrings? Custom from Cartier. Everyone’s gonna stare.”

Kook dressed up too—tailored black suit hugging his broad shoulders, crisp white shirt unbuttoned just enough to show a hint of his chest, hair styled back. He looked devastating, like a walking wet dream. Tae watched from the doorway, pouting hard, arms crossed under her tits in her tiny tank top. “You’re going without me? With… her?”