Roses and Thorns (Jinlia)

Epilogue: Roses and Thorns

Jisu’s heart pounded against her ribs as she tore through hangers in a desperate search for something suitable to wear. Her thoughts raced just as frantically, barely able to register the numbers flashing on her phone screen: 9:15 AM. The meeting was at ten. She’d overslept.

The firm’s recent flood of high-profile clients should’ve been a cause for celebration. In truth, it had become a source of unrelenting pressure. When someone suggested offloading a few projects to lighten their load, the clients’ reactions had been immediateㅡand unanimous. Every single one had dismissed the idea outright. They weren’t going anywhere. They would wait, however long it took, as long as Jisu’s firm handled their work. No substitutes. No compromises.

“Eonni, are you done getting ready? We’re really running out of time,” Chaeryeong’s voice rang through the door, sharp with impatience.

“Hang on, I’ll be down in a minute!” Jisu called out, snatching a red off-shoulder dress from the hanger. The fabric slid down her frame, graceful and precise, ending just above the knee. She stepped into sleek black ankle-strap pumps, grabbed her folder, and bolted out the door.

──⇌••⇋──

Chaeryeong’s Ferrari sliced through the early-morning traffic, the polished hum of the engine the only sound filling the cabin. The silence sat heavily between themㅡunnaturally so.

Jisu cast a sidelong glance. “Ryeong... is something on your mind?” Her voice was gentle, but searching.

Chaeryeong’s eyes flicked toward her, surprise flashing for the briefest moment. “No. Nothing at all. Why do you ask?”

“You’re unusually quiet.”

“Don’t read too much into it, eonni,” Chaeryeong replied curtly. But her clipped tone, her rigid posture... something was off. Jisu could feel it.

──⇌••⇋──

“Good morning, Miss Choi. The client arrived a few minutes ago and is waiting in the meeting room,” Anoia reported, stepping aside as Jisu swept past.

“Thanks,” Jisu murmured, her mind already halfway up the building. She made a beeline for the private elevator, pressing the button for the fourth floor without so much as a glance behind. Chaeryeong followed, her footsteps slower, her presence muted.

──⇌••⇋──

The elevator doors glided open. Inside the glass-walled meeting room, the client rose with a warm smile curling at the corners of his mouth. Jisu returned it with a curt nod, her movements stiff, her body language calculated and practiced.

Years of working with him had made it second nature. The formal composure. The emotionless tone. The graceful avoidance of familiarity. He never seemed to mind.

“We’ll begin shortly. My partner’s still downstairs,” she said coolly, her gaze pinned to him.

“Which one, the engineer or the architect?” he asked, with a lightness that bordered on teasing.

Jisu allowed a ghost of a smile, brittle at best. “You really are insufferable,” she muttered, just loud enough for him to hear.

He chuckled, clearly unbothered.

The door swung open again, and Chaeryeong strode in, poised and composed. She radiated command as if it were part of her wardrobe. “Sorry for the delay. I had to check on something,” she said, offering no more than that.