That night the penthouse was quiet, the city lights soft through the curtains. Koo lay curled against Dohyun’s broad chest, his arm heavy around her waist, breath steady and warm on her neck. He smelled like his usual cologne—clean, expensive, safe. She tried to sink into it, tried to let the peaceful rhythm of his heartbeat pull her under. For a moment she almost believed she could go back to being just his sweet, loving wife.

Then her phone vibrated on the nightstand.