Shadows Of Desire | ✓

Chapter 4

"Do you regret it?"

Lisa asked the question quietly, almost like she didn't want to hear the answer. They were lying on her couch again, limbs entangled, the air warm with comfort and hesitation. A documentary played in the background, long since forgotten.

Jungkook turned his head toward her, his hand still resting lightly on her waist. "Regret what?"

"This." Her gaze flicked to his face. "Us. Everything it's costing you."

He didn't respond right away. Outside, the city pulsed with life—cars honking, neon lights buzzing faintly against the windows.

"No," he finally said. "Not even for a second."

Lisa smiled faintly, but something in her eyes stayed cautious. "Your father looked like he wanted to have me publicly executed."

"He wanted to marry me off last year to a real estate heiress with the personality of cold tofu," Jungkook muttered. "I've been disobedient for longer than you think."

She laughed, but it faded quickly.

"It doesn't bother you?" she asked again. "Being... in the open like this?"

He studied her. "It's not the spotlight that bothers me. It's who's holding the flashlight."

Lisa gave a wry smile. "The media?"

"No." He leaned in a little. "My family. Your family. The ones watching us like we're breaking centuries of etiquette."

She sighed. "We kind of are."

"So?" Jungkook tilted his head. "Let them choke on their tradition."

Lisa laughed, but her fingers tightened slightly around his.

Still, she couldn't shake the feeling: something was coming.

Two days later, that feeling had a name.

Nam Manobal.

Her older cousin. Family patriarch-in-the-making. CEO of Manobal Finance Korea.

Lisa hadn't seen him in over a year. But when her housekeeper knocked on her door and said, "There's a man here who says he's family," she knew.

She opened the door slowly.

"Lisa."

Nam stood like he always did: back straight, hands clasped behind him, eyes calm and unreadable. He wore a three-piece suit at 10 a.m. on a Saturday and looked like he hadn't aged since she was fifteen.

She didn't move aside.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," he said.

"You are," she replied flatly. "What do you want?"

"I'd like to talk. Privately."

Lisa stared at him for a long moment, then stepped aside.

He entered without hesitation, looking around her apartment like it was a hotel suite he'd forgotten he owned.

"I heard about the gallery opening," he said. "Nice turnout."

Lisa crossed her arms. "You didn't come for small talk."

Nam nodded. "True."

He turned, fixing her with the same gaze he used in boardrooms.

"I'm here to remind you of your responsibilities."

Lisa rolled her eyes. "Here we go."

"You're a Manobal. That still means something."

"To who? You? Our aunts in Thailand who still think it's 1950?"