
Fatal allure
Chapter 2
Episode 1
If You Love Her, You Die
The man died at exactly 2:13 a.m.
By sunrise, the news had already spread through every major media outlet. Another wealthy heir found dead inside a luxury hotel suite. No signs of struggle. No visible injuries. Just a peaceful expression frozen on his face like he had fallen asleep beside someone he trusted.
Beside the bed sat a half-empty glass of expensive wine.
And on the table—
A photograph of Yoo Hae-rin.
The woman everyone whispered about.
The woman men couldn’t stay away from.
The woman whose lovers never seemed to survive.
⸻
Rain poured heavily over the city as black luxury cars lined the entrance of Royal Auction House later that evening.
Inside, the atmosphere remained elegant despite the scandal surrounding Hae-rin’s name. Wealthy socialites laughed beneath crystal chandeliers while millions exchanged hands over rare paintings and jewelry.
To the public, this world looked glamorous.
But beneath the polished smiles lived greed, obsession, and secrets powerful enough to destroy lives.
At the center of the auction stage stood Yoo Hae-rin herself.
Beautiful.
Cold.
Untouchable.
Her black dress wrapped around her like silk shadows while diamond earrings shimmered beneath the lights. Every movement she made was graceful enough to capture the entire room without effort.
“Five million.”
“Six million.”
“Eight million.”
Her voice flowed smoothly through the hall, calm and seductive, controlling the attention of every man watching her.
None of them noticed the reporters gathering outside.
None of them noticed the police vehicles parked across the street.
And none of them noticed the man quietly observing her from the back of the room.
Lee Tae-jun.
Elite investigator.
Special Investigations Unit.
A man known for destroying perfect lies.
Tae-jun studied Hae-rin carefully as she continued the auction without the slightest sign of panic. Most innocent people trembled under suspicion.
She looked perfectly composed.
That bothered him.
“She’s either innocent,” Detective Ryu muttered beside him, “or terrifyingly good at pretending.”
Tae-jun said nothing.
Because the moment Yoo Hae-rin lifted her eyes toward the crowd—
She looked directly at him.
As if she already knew who he was.
For one brief second, the noise inside the auction hall disappeared beneath the tension between them.
Then Hae-rin smiled.
Small.
Elegant.
Dangerous.
And somehow, Tae-jun immediately understood why men ruined themselves for her.
⸻
Later that night, the rain became heavier.
Hae-rin returned to her penthouse overlooking the glowing city skyline. The silence inside felt almost unnatural after hours of cameras and whispers.
She removed her diamond earrings slowly before walking toward the kitchen island.
That was when she noticed it.
An envelope resting neatly on the marble counter.
Her expression darkened instantly.
No one should have been inside her home.
Carefully, she opened it.
Inside was a single photograph.
A picture of her standing beside all three dead men.
Across the photograph, someone had written in red ink:
You’re next.
For the first time that night—
Yoo Hae-rin looked afraid.
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