Despite it being the weekend, Shin Keir sat alone in his office. His sleeves were rolled up, and his pen moved absently over a contract draft he'd already read five times. It wasn't because the document needed that much attention—it didn't. His mind just wasn't in it.
Tonight was Yeri's debut party.
And unfortunately, he wasn't invited.
He glanced at his phone, debating for the hundredth time whether he should try calling her again. Maybe this time she had unblocked him. Or, better yet, maybe a surprise invitation had come through.
Wishful thinking.
Before he could decide, a notification popped up on his screen. It was a message from Rig—the guy Tristan had recommended. Tristan had assured him that Rig was friendly and less likely to cause awkward tension.
Too bad the man couldn't keep his mouth shut so Shin had sent him to observe Yeri instead, hoping he'd be less of a nuisance from a distance.
He tapped open the message.
Photos loaded instantly.
Golden fur. Wet nose. Tongue hanging out in a toothy grin.
A golden retriever?
Shin's brow twitched. Ignoring the cheerful snapshots, he scrolled down to read the actual report.
As he read, his expression darkened. Grim. Grimmer.
So this dog was Yeri's.
Now that he thought about it, he vaguely remembered seeing something in her background check about a family dog.
Rig and the others had initially assumed it was a stray, waiting around for someone to claim it. Turns out, it was hers.
In every single photo, the golden retriever was front and center.
The dog was in every frame. There was Rig, grinning like a kindergarten student, holding the dog's paws. Another one with the tiger-faced man giving a thumbs-up while the dog tried to lick his face. Even the bearded one—Shin barely remembered his name, something that rhymed with "trouble"—was laughing, arms around the dog like they were long-lost drinking buddies.
Shin's left eye twitched harder.
Then came the final photo.
Yeri. Smiling.
Looking up at a tall man whose back was to the camera. Between them, a golden retriever sat proudly like a fluffy mascot of romance.
Shin's grip on his phone tightened. The glass creaked ominously.
"What's with your face?" Tristan strolled in, holding a coffee cup with the smugness of someone who lived for gossip. "Did the stock market crash or did someone die?"
Shin didn't answer.
"It's the weekend, and I gave up my nap to be here. The least you could do is to be nice to me."
Before Shin could snap, Saeki Jie burst into the room, practically bouncing with excitement. "I heard you guys went to the casino without me! How could you leave me behind? We're going again tonight, right?"
Tristan gave Saeki a knowing look, and without hesitation, the latter darted to Shin's side to peek at the phone screen.
"Oh God," Saeki muttered, staring at the photos. He didn't notice Shin's aura darkening by the second. "The composition in this one is stunning. The angle, the light, the emotion—it could be a drama poster. I think I'm feeling a new drama concept—'My domineering neighbour.' Or maybe 'Between Leash and Love.' Thoughts?"
"Saeki," Shin growled low.
"Not good enough title? Hmm... maybe something with a vet? 'The hound vet is in love with me'?"
Shin "..."
Tristan, too curious to resist, leaned over for a look. "Who's that guy in the photo?"
Shin dropped the phone onto the desk with a thud. He didn't speak. Didn't move. Just sat there, radiating silent fury.
Tristan shivered and yanked Saeki back. "Don't provoke him. If no one talks him down, he might actually go and abduct his girlfriend tonight."
Tristan picked up the phone again, scanning the images slowly. "Photos with the dog... Wait. This dog's hers? Great. That means they helped her. It's the same as you helping her."
"Do I look like a fool to you?!" Shin exploded, slamming his hands on the desk. His chair flew back and hit the floor to ceiling window.
Tristan blinked, unfazed. "Would you have preferred they ignored the dog? It's her debut party tonight. If that dog had gone missing, what do you think she'd be feeling right now? Rig's report says she was out there, frantically searching. The dog clearly matters to her."
Shin was suddenly regretting not being there. If he had found the dog, no matter how many excuses she have in mind, she still have to face him.
Tristan sighed. Who would've thought Shin Keir—the ruthless businessman feared by most—would lose all reason over one woman?
"Besides," Tristan continued, "Rig might've been recognized by Yeri. The other two look like local thugs selling insurance scam. Pablo was the safest face to send."
"Pablo," Shin muttered darkly.
Saeki nodded. "Yeah, Pablo's got a nice face. Friendly. But c'mon, it's just a candid photo. Don't you have one with your girlfriend?"
Shin's glare could burn holes through steel. "Do I look like the kind of man who takes selfies?"
"You mean... you've never taken any photos with your girlfriend?" Saeki gaped.
Tristan smacked him. Hard. Obviously not, and saying it out loud was only pouring salt in the wound.
Shin ran a hand through his hair, trying to stay composed. But the fire in his eyes betrayed him.
They would never understand.
She wouldn't talk to him. Wouldn't see him. And now, they—his subordinates—met her dog first. Took pictures with it. Even got a candid photo with her.
Those moments should've belonged to him.
"I could generate an AI photo of the two of you," Tristan offered helpfully.
"Shut up."
Saeki, meanwhile, was already typing on his phone. "I'm adding a dog to the script. Maybe a brooding CEO adopts a stray golden retriever, only to fall in love with the local vet. Touching, poetic, award-winning. I'll name the dog... 'Shaggy.' Or better—'String.' Like the red string of fate."
Shin looked like he was reconsidering murder. "Get lost!"
"It's just a dog, man," Saeki mumbled. "You can take a photo with my Lulu. She's fluffy too. I'll even put it into a magazine cover."
Shin didn't answer. Just waved them both toward the door.
There was a beat of silence.
Then, from the door, Saeki addded: "What if you dress up as a vet and send her a photo?"
"I will throw you out the rooftop." Shin snapped.
Tristan raised his coffee in mock salute and yanked Saeki out of the room.
Alone again, Shin stared down at the photo of Yeri smiling.
"You're so nice to others," he said quietly.
A decision settled in his chest like stone.
---
Meanwhile, at the Hotel...
Yeri guided Carpet into the massive hotel suite. It had its own kitchen, a bar area, and even a covered balcony with a dipping pool.
Mother Zhi knew Yeri would want Carpet by her side for such an important night so she found the most extravagant pet-friendly hotel she could.
Yeri looked around, her jaw dropping. "This is insane," she muttered.
Her mother smiled knowingly. "A debut party is once in a lifetime. Since you didn't want something so grand, at least your room should be."
Yeri hugged her mom, touched.
The stylists, makeup artists, and assistants were already waiting, ready to begin. After giving them instructions, Mother Zhi excused herself to prepare.
But just as she left, the door swung open behind them with a dramatic exclamation.
"Oh my god! This room is amazing!"
Yeri's smile disappeared. It's truly hard to respect an elder who has no manners and uses her age to act like a shrew.
Aunt Linda entered like she owned the place, eyes darting around like she was at an auction. Venice followed behind, quiet and composed, but her eyes gleamed with envy.
Before Venice could speak, her gaze landed on a familiar fluffball sniffing the fruit platter on the table.
Carpet's tail wagged as he licked a grape.
Yeri narrowed her eyes. The CCTV footage from home had been crystal clear. Venice had opened the gate and chased Carpet out like he was a stray.
If that kind stranger hadn't found him, Carpet would still be missing.
She crossed her arms. "I found him. Surprise?"
Venice flinched. "What do you mean?"
"You're really going to pretend you didn't open the gate and shove my dog out?"
They came early, hoping to cover their tracks. Did Venice really think she could get away with it?
Venice forced a smile, eyes flashing. But her guilty look said it all. "Yeri, why would I do something like that?"
Deep down, Venice was panicking—she hadn't expected Yeri to refuse her even the courtesy of saving face. Everyone in that room was a professional, accustomed to catering to the elite.
If word of this incident got out, wouldn't it damage her reputation?"
Aunt Linda noticed the tension and stepped in. "Is there a problem here?"
Sensing Yeri might humiliate her, Venice shifted gears immediately.
"I didn't mean to," she cried, covering her face. "I've always been afraid of dogs. He jumped on me, all wet. I panicked and no one was around to help. I just... opened the gate. I'm really sorry."
As if on cue, Aunt Linda chimed in. "Yeri, my daughter has always been afraid of dogs, but when we visited your house, we didn't complain about that unruly dog. We tried to be understanding as family. But your dog was running around, dripping wet, jumping on people. I'm more worried it might have caused trauma to Venice. Fear isn't a joke. Is a dog more important than your cousin?"
Yeri stared at them both, expression unreadable. She didn't need to yell. She didn't need to argue.