#Fayeyoko...
"The hardest battles we fight are often with those we love the most, for in the heart's deepest connections lie both our greatest strength and our deepest wounds."
#G!P...
Faye returned to her grandmother's side, her steps slow but deliberate. The moment her grandmother's eyes found her, the sternness in them melted into relief. She reached out, voice warm yet touched with worry.
"Faye... Yoko came to see me," she said gently. "She gave her farewell and brought so many gifts. She asked me to look after my health... and told me to remind you to return soon."
A faint smile curved Faye's lips at the words, a fragile warmth flickering through her chest, though her eyes betrayed a heaviness she could not hide.
Beside her, View swayed with weariness. Luna noticed at once, moving to her side with quiet urgency, her presence both protective and steady. View bowed deeply to the grandmother before letting Luna guide her softly out of the room.
Ling's gaze remained fixed on Faye. Sharp, observant, unrelenting. She could see the storm beneath the calm, the secrets pressing against Faye's silence. Without speaking, she gave the slightest gesture to Orm. Understanding immediately, Orm stepped forward to escort the grandmother away.
Now it was only Ling and Faye.
The quiet stretched, filled only by the faint rustle of fabric and the distant echo of footsteps fading down the corridor. Ling's expression softened, though the weight of her curiosity lingered in her eyes. She tilted her head, studying Faye as though she could peel back the layers one by one.
...
On the top floor of the luxurious CM Hospital in Gangnam, Seoul, the air was so still it felt almost suffocating, heavy with unspoken threats. Love ripped off her doctor's coat with a sharp tug, letting it fall onto the leather chair with a soft thud. Her eyes cut across the room, locking onto her wife with all the precision of a scalpel.
Milk stood there, unmoved, poised in her tailored suit like a queen facing judgment. Every inch of her exuded calm authority, yet there was a dangerous edge in her stare—the kind that could unravel anyone who misjudged her.
Love's heels clicked against the polished floor as she strode forward, each step a deliberate drumbeat of anger. With forceful precision, she yanked open a file, the snap of paper against the desk slicing through the silence. She shoved it across the table; the pages scattered like autumn leaves caught in a gust.
"Just look at it." Her voice was low, edged with venom. "Kim is pregnant because of your friend—the Thai Prince."
Milk's eyes flicked to the file, then back to Love, unwavering. Her voice was calm, but steel lurked beneath it. "That's not true."
The denial only sharpened Love's anger. She leaned forward, her face inches from Milk's, fury radiating from her tightened jaw. "Are you trying to justify your friend's affair? Do you know what my uncle would do if this got out? He would kill your friend without hesitation."
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