Sehun’s house was modest, roses choking the gate. Sehun engulfed him in a bear hug, smelling of garlic and garden soil. "Taehyung! You haven’t aged!" Mina beamed, setting down a tray of persimmons. Behind her, a girl shuffled into the hallway—hoodie swallowing her frame, eyes downcast. Sehun grinned. "My daughter, Koo. Cute thing, isn’t she?"

Koo offered a tiny bow, fingers twisting her sleeves. Taehyung froze. That face. Those lips. No. The hoodie was identical to the livestream thumbnail. His stomach dropped. SweetKoo’s shy smile—the same one she used before peeling off lace—was plastered on this mousey girl. "Nice to meet you, sir," she murmured, voice soft as cotton wool.

Sehun chuckled, clapping Taehyung’s shoulder. "See? Told you she’s timid. Barely speaks above a whisper!" Mina nudged Koo toward the kitchen. "Help me with the tea, darling?" Koo scurried away, head ducked.

Taehyung forced a smile, accepting persimmons. His mind raced. Filthy liar. He’d watched those lips wrap around a strawberry last night, heard her gasp as she came for VIP_DADDY. Now she played virgin in baggy clothes? Disgust coiled hot in his gut—and something darker, sharper. Recognition.

Sehun rambled about Koo’s gardening skills. Taehyung nodded blankly. Every word felt like sandpaper on raw nerves.

In the kitchen, Koo trembled while arranging teacups. That man’s stare—piercing, cold—had scraped her bones. Did he know? Impossible. She’d scrubbed every trace of SweetKoo away.

Still, panic fizzed under her skin. Mina whispered, "Be polite, Koo-yah. He’s Appa’s honored guest." Koo pasted on her shyest smile. "Yes, Mom." She practiced lowering her lashes, softening her voice. Just act normal. He’s nobody.

Taehyung watched her return, balancing the tray. Her steps were careful, demure. Actress. His knuckles whitened around his wineglass. Last night’s stream flashed behind his eyes—her knees spread, that pink flesh glistening under lamplight while she moaned about being "so wet." And now? The perfect daughter.

Fury, hot and sudden, tightened his throat. He’d paid thousands to unravel her. Now she stood feet away, wrapped in lies. A dangerous thought slithered in: What if she unravels for me here? He sipped his wine, the taste suddenly metallic. This visit just got… complicated.