Chapter 11 – The Secret Ceremony

Evelyn stared at the message on her screen long after it stopped blinking.

"I wasn't joking. Think about it."

She had barely slept. Her mind kept circling back to the boardroom. The taste of him, the tension in her chest, the chaos they had tried so hard to contain. There was no going back, not after what they had done and said.

By the time the city of Seoul stirred to life beneath her apartment window, she had made her decision.

She was in it. Completely.

So she dressed simply. A cream sweaterdress, soft and unassuming. Her hair twisted loosely at the nape of her neck. No heels. No makeup beyond a sweep of mascara. She added a small pair of gold studs and took one long breath before she stepped outside.

Alexander was waiting for her outside a discreet district office tucked behind an ivy-covered wall in Gangnam. No paparazzi, no security detail. Just a black coat, that ever-present navy scarf, and the unreadable mask of a man used to commanding empires not inviting vulnerability.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

She didn't say yes. She just stepped beside him and reached for his hand.

They walked into the building together.

The civil servant didn't recognize them - not the most powerful man in Korea's corporate world nor the marketing assistant whose face had never graced a profile. The room was sterile and quiet, with pale walls and a polished desk. An older woman officiated, her voice kind and steady, her manner brisk.

The vows were simple. Legal. Unadorned.

"I, Evelyn, take you, Alexander... not because you built an empire," she said softly, "but because with you, I no longer feel like a shadow."

"I take you, Evelyn," he replied, his voice more gravel than silk, "because you see me, not the name. And I don't want to be seen by anyone else."

They signed the registry.

No photos. No rings.

Just a promise on one inked on paper and written into something much deeper.

That night, they shared grilled meats from a street stall tucked into an alley near Itaewon, then climbed the stairs of Alexander's townhouse in Sag Harbor in comfortable silence. He poured them each a glass of wine, and they sat cross-legged on the floor of his study, surrounded by shelves of books and tall, arched windows that looked out over the glowing city.

She tucked her legs beneath her, resting against his side. They said little. There was no need.

No one knew. No one could know.

By Sunday evening, Evelyn stood in her apartment by her small kitchen window, tea cooling in her hands, watching as the lights of Seoul glittered like stars against the river. Her phone buzzed. A message from Alexander.

Come downstairs.

He was waiting in his car, engine still running.

When she climbed in, he handed her a small white box.

Inside was a delicate gold chain with a tiny lock-shaped charm.

"I know you wouldn't wear a ring," he said. "But this? This stays close to your heart."

He fastened it around her neck himself. The gesture was quiet, reverent.

"You're not alone in this," he said, resting his hand briefly over her heart.

Her chest tightened. It wasn't just a secret.

It was a vow which was worn where no one else could see it.

And across the city, in the backseat of a luxury sedan speeding in from Incheon Airport, Genevieve Moreau stared out at the skyline of Seoul with a calculating gleam in her eye.

She had been away too long. Managing the American branch of Drake Industries had been a political exile in all but name.

But now she was back. And she had no intention of staying quiet.

A leather dossier sat in her lap, embossed with the company crest.

Inside it were transition documents and a strategic outline for how to retake her place beside Alexander Drake.

Her childhood fiancé. Her legacy.

And as far as Genevieve was concerned, no one else, certainly not a no-name assistant, was going to stand in her way.