Jin buried himself in work as always—stoic, precise, emotionally untouchable. And Mian remained at home, tending to her duties as a live-in maid with quiet grace. The house, vast and echoing with silence, had emptied out that afternoon, leaving only the two of them under the same roof—separate worlds orbiting the same sun.
Jin, the elusive CEO with a reputation that preceded him like a thunderstorm, was known for many things—his intelligence, his wealth, and most of all, his coldness. The kind of man who made an entire boardroom shiver with just a glance. No employee dared to cross him, not because he ever raised his voice, but because his silence was sharper than a blade. And love? That didn't exist in his vocabulary. Not a single soul had ever seen a woman by his side. He didn't even smile at work.
But tonight was different.
It was the night of his scheduled date—a rare event arranged more out of obligation than interest.
Evening settled over the mansion like a velvet curtain. Jin returned home quietly, his leather shoes clicking against the marble as he headed upstairs to change into the outfit Mian had carefully chosen for him earlier that morning.
Mian was dusting off the hallway table, preparing to leave for the evening.
"Welcome, sir," she said softly when she saw him ascend the stairs.
L
He merely hummed in reply—a low, unreadable sound that barely broke the silence.
Mian watched his back for a moment, then shook her head with a small smile. "He must be nervous," she muttered to herself, though she knew better than to think he'd ever show it.
Upstairs, Jin showered, steam curling through the tiled bathroom like mist, before dressing in the carefully laid-out outfit. He sat on the edge of his bed, staring into the mirror. The shirt fit well. The suit was tailored to perfection. But something about his reflection didn't sit right.
He picked up his phone and called his bodyguard.
"She gone yet?" he asked.
"No, sir," came the reply.
"Tell her I need her upstairs."
"Yes, sir."
Downstairs, the bodyguard approached Mian, who was checking that everything was in place.
"The boss wants to see you upstairs."
She blinked. "Did he say if I should bring anything?"
The bodyguard shook his head. "Just you."
With hesitant steps, she climbed the staircase, heart lightly fluttering. She reached Jin's door, knocked gently.
"Come in," came his voice—calm, steady.
Inside, Jin stood facing the full-length mirror, one hand in his pocket, the other slightly raised, examining his messy hair. When he turned, his eyes met hers.
"Do I look good?" he asked, a question so unfamiliar coming from his lips it sounded almost foreign.
Mian's eyes swept over him. The uncombed hair framed his striking face in a way that was unintentionally alluring. The open collar of his shirt made him look effortlessly handsome. The dim lighting in the room clung to him like a secret.
She cleared her throat, snapping herself back to reality.
"Yes, sir… You look good. Just a few…flaws here and there," she answered, avoiding direct eye contact.
A faint crease appeared between Jin's brows. "Can you… fix those flaws for me?"
Mian froze. It wasn't an order. It was… a request.
She hesitated, unsure, but nodded. "Alright."
Walking toward him, she gently adjusted his collar, fingers grazing the warm fabric of his shirt. His chest rose slowly beneath her touch. Her fingers trembled slightly.
"There," she murmured, stepping back.
But her eyes lingered on his hair. She turned to the vanity, picking up a comb and some styling gel.
As she turned to return to him—he was already standing right in front of her.
So close.
She gasped softly, eyes widening.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his deep voice low and velvety.
"I'm fine, sir. I just… wanted to fix your hair," she whispered.
"There's still time," he replied, leaning in and placing his hands on either side of the vanity, caging her in gently. Not forcefully. Just… close.
The world stilled. Mian's breath caught in her throat.
Jin's eyes scanned her face slowly—studying her features as though he were seeing her for the first time. Her lashes that fluttered with nerves. Her soft lips. Her warm, unsure eyes.
She was beautiful
And for the first time in years, Jin felt something shift. Something unspoken.
Something dangerous.
Something tender.
Mian worked carefully, her fingers moving through Jin's thick, unruly hair with quiet precision. The strands slowly submitted under her touch, softening and falling perfectly into place. She applied a little product to keep it styled, brushing the last few strands aside to reveal the sharp line of his forehead.
She stepped back, surveying her work with a small, satisfied smile.
"You're good to go, sir," she said gently, clasping her hands in front of her.
Jin turned to face the mirror. For a moment, even he seemed taken aback. The man staring back at him looked refined, powerful, yet somehow softer—more human. His usual icy expression had melted just a little around the edges. He looked…handsome. Striking, even.
"Thank you," he said quietly, glancing over his shoulder.
And then—he smiled.
It was brief, subtle, and fleeting. But it was real. And it took Mian a moment to realize how much that one smile had just shifted the entire atmosphere in the room.
She blinked, quickly looking down at her watch. "I should leave, sir. It's already getting really late."
Jin turned toward her, buttoning his blazer. "I'll drop you."
Mian's eyes widened slightly. "Sir, I don't want you to be late for your date. Really, don't worry about me—"
"Are you saying no to me?" Jin asked, his tone unreadable but his eyes locked on hers.
She faltered. "Huh? N-not at all, sir. Of course not."
And just like that, they were walking side by side down the long corridor and out the door. The night air was cool, the city lights blinking in the distance like quiet fireflies. The chauffeur held the door open, and they both stepped into the car.
Inside, a calm silence enveloped them.
Jin leaned against the window, gazing out into the evening streets. His expression was unreadable again, the moment in the mirror now tucked away.
Mian sat quietly, placing both hands on her thighs, trying to stay composed. Her eyes wandered toward him, and just as quickly, she looked away.
Jin's gaze, however, drifted to her. His eyes settled on her small, delicate hands—so much smaller than his own. They looked soft, gentle, the kind of hands that healed, not harmed. Without realizing it, he found himself smiling faintly again.
He had an absurd, almost childish urge to hold them. To feel their warmth.
But he said nothing.
When they reached her neighborhood, the car slowed to a gentle stop. Mian turned to him with a soft smile.
"Good luck, sir," she said, her voice low but sincere.
Jin looked at her for a lingering moment. "Thank you."
She stepped out, waved faintly, and walked up the short path to her front door.
Inside, her mother looked up from the living room, raising an eyebrow.
"Your boss again?" she asked, voice carrying its usual curiosity.
"Yes," Mian replied absentmindedly, removing her shoes.
Her mother watched her closely, something amused sparking in her eyes. "Hmm. Don't you think he might have a little crush on you?"
Mian paused, then chuckled nervously. "Mom…"
"I'm serious. He drops you off himself lately… Isn't that a little unusual? Especially for someone like him?"
Mian shrugged, trying not to let the conversation affect her. "It's nothing like that. I really don't think he sees me that way."
Her mom leaned in, teasing but insightful. "You don't think? So now you read minds? You know exactly what's going on in that man's head?"
"He's on a date tonight," Mian pointed out, hoping that would end the conversation.
Her mother simply nodded. "I see…"
Then she grew thoughtful, quieter.
"Let me ask you something," she said. "Has he ever called for you personally? Just the two of you? Ever shared something private? Ever let his guard down around you?"
Mian froze.
One by one, her mother's words echoed in her mind like pebbles dropping into water, causing ripples she couldn't ignore.
She thought of his rare smiles. The way he trusted her with small, personal tasks. The way his eyes lingered a little too long. The sudden offer to drive her home. The way he looked at her in the mirror tonight… like he was seeing something he didn't want to look away from.
"Hmm…" her mom said knowingly. "I think he's done all those things. But you're so quiet, you barely notice."
Mian remained silent, her heart heavier than before.
"I really need to keep my distance," she thought to herself, suddenly anxious about everything that had been so innocent just hours ago.
She looked at her mom, searching for an escape from the conversation. "I'm tired, Mom. I think I'll head to my room."
Her mother just smiled, not pushing any further.
As Mian entered her room and closed the door behind her, she leaned back against it and closed her eyes.
But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop seeing the way Jin had smiled at her.
And she definitely couldn't stop wondering why it had made her feel so warm inside.