Chapter 3 - Chapter 3

🌑 Chapter 3: The Blue Moon Encounter

The Blue Moon wasn’t just a jazz club.

It was a different world.

Soft blue lights washed over velvet walls. The air was thick with expensive perfume, cigar smoke, and quiet conversations that carried more power than any boardroom.

Hana paused at the entrance.

“…This place…”

It didn’t feel like somewhere she belonged.

The saxophone played low and slow, wrapping around her like a whisper.

As she stepped inside—

Heads turned.

Not because she was famous.

But because she looked… untouchable.

A shadow wrapped in silk.

The black shawl flowed behind her like a secret.

A waiter approached her quickly.

“Lee Hana-ssi?”

She nodded.

“This way, please.”

He didn’t ask questions.

Didn’t smile.

Just led her deeper.

Past the main floor.

Past the eyes.

Into the VIP section.

The curtain parted.

And there—

He was.

Kang Ji-hoon.

Sitting alone.

A glass of whiskey in his hand.

Smoke curled lazily around him like it obeyed him.

Hana stopped walking.

“…So it’s really you.”

Ji-hoon didn’t stand.

Didn’t rush.

He simply looked at her.

Slowly.

Carefully.

Like he was studying art.

“You came.”

His voice was low.

Smooth.

Too calm.

Hana didn’t sit.

“I don’t like being ordered around.”

Silence.

The music outside faded into the background.

“Then why are you here?” he asked.

Her eyes hardened.

“To ask you something.”

She stepped closer.

“Who do you think you are?”

A beat.

“Sending gifts. Watching me. Interfering in my life.”

Ji-hoon leaned forward slightly.

The dim light caught the gold watch on his wrist.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

“Someone who recognizes value.”

He took a slow sip.

Didn’t break eye contact.

“And you… are rare.”

Hana scoffed.

“I’m not something you can own.”

A faint smile touched his lips.

Cold.

“Everyone says that.”

He stood.

Slowly.

Effortlessly.

And suddenly—

The space between them felt smaller.

“But you…” he continued softly, stepping closer,
“I’m not interested in owning your voice.”

Hana’s breath caught.

He stopped just in front of her.

Too close.

“I want your sorrow.”

Silence.

Heavy.

Uncomfortable.

Her fingers tightened around her bag.

“My sorrow isn’t for sale.”

His eyes darkened slightly.

“Then why do you wear it every day?”

Her heart skipped.

He reached out—

His fingers brushed lightly against the black silk on her shoulder.

Electric.

Dangerous.

“You hide in black,” he whispered,
“but all it does… is make me want to see what you’re hiding.”

Hana stepped back quickly.

Her pulse racing.

“Stop it.”

Her voice shook—

Just a little.

“I’m leaving.”

She turned.

Took one step.

“Wait.”

His tone changed.

Colder.

Sharper.

She froze.

Didn’t turn around.

“Before you go,” he said quietly,
“ask yourself something.”

A pause.

“If I can buy your entire agency with one call…”

Her breath stopped.

“…do you really think you can leave without my permission?”

Silence.

The air shifted.

Slowly—

Hana turned.

The exit door.

Closed.

Two men stood outside.

Tall.

Still.

Watching.

Her stomach dropped.

“…You’re insane.”

Ji-hoon tilted his head slightly.

Almost amused.

“No.”

A step closer.

“I’m serious.”

Her heart pounded loudly in her ears.

This wasn’t a meeting.

It never was.

It was a trap.