Two Worlds, Two Lives

CHAPTER 10: Dinner ?

Marie stepped into the elevator, her reflection flickering against the mirrored walls as it ascended. The hum of the gallery faded, replaced by soft instrumental music.

When the doors opened, the scent of cedar and oil paint filled the hallway — the scent she’d always associated with her uncle’s workspace. She adjusted her blouse and knocked once before entering.

“Marie,” a warm voice called.

Her uncle, Kai Won, looked up from a canvas propped against the wall. Light from the tall windows caught the silver in his dark hair. But before she could greet him, another voice made her freeze.

“Marie.”

Her father.

He sat across the room, hands clasped, expression calm but unreadable. Seeing him here — in Kairos Art Space, in her uncle’s office — made her pulse jump.

“Dad? What are you doing here?” she asked.

Kai Won smiled gently. “He stopped by for a visit. We were just talking about you.”

Marie blinked. “About me?”

Her father stood, smoothing his tie. “It’s been a while since you came home, sweetheart. I thought I’d drop by since your uncle mentioned your visit.”

“Right,” she murmured. “Didn’t expect to find you both here together.”

Her uncle chuckled. “Family reunions have their surprises.”

Marie forced a smile, though tension coiled in her stomach. She hadn’t seen her father in months — not since their last argument about her “wasting time with paints instead of pursuing a stable career.”

Sensing the unease, Kai Won changed the subject. “Come, Marie. I wanted to show you something.”

He turned toward a large canvas behind him, half-covered by cloth. With a slow pull, he unveiled it — a man dressed in a black silk robe with wide sleeves, silver threads glinting at the hem. A gray sash bound his waist, and a dark hat shadowed his face. Around him floated scrolls of paper and watching figures — an ancient Korean scene where kings once celebrated artistic brilliance.

Marie stepped closer, drawn in by the painting’s quiet power. “It’s beautiful.”

Her father studied the work. “You still paint the past,” he said quietly.

“The past never really leaves us,” Kai Won replied.

Alexander’s brow furrowed. “Hmm. Well, I’ll leave you both to your paints and plans for the exhibition.” He gestured to the canvas with a half-smile. “I’m guessing I’ll see you at dinner?”

Marie blinked. “Dinner? You didn’t tell me.”

Kai glanced at her. “I was going to, once he left.”

Alexander arched a brow. “So?”

“Yes, I’ll be there,” Kai said.

Marie scoffed, folding her arms. “You could’ve mentioned it earlier.”

“Now you know.”

With that, her father stood and left. His assistant, Carlos, followed with his suitcase. At the door, her father turned back. “I’ll see you at dinner. Goodbye.”

The door clicked shut. Marie let out a breath, irritation flaring. “What is he doing here? Why’d you tell him about the exhibition — and that I was coming?”

“Whoa, whoa! Relax, fiery bird. One question at a time.”

Her glare didn’t waver.

“Your father’s my brother,” Kai said patiently. “We talked about business — the construction company. Then he asked about my work. Since he’s one of our associates, I suppose that’s how he found out.”

“‘Dignified associate,’ my foot,” she muttered. “He doesn’t even like me painting, and now he’s pretending to be an art lover?”

Kai chuckled. “He does love you, Marie. Don’t let his overprotective attitude get under your skin.”

“Sure,” she said flatly, rising from the chair.

“Let’s focus on something else.”

“You mean this?” She pointed to the painting.

“Yes. It’s for the exhibition — but in a different dynamic.”

“Like storytelling?”

He smiled. “Exactly. You’re smart.”

“I always am,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Kai laughed softly, taking a seat at his desk while her gaze stayed fixed on the painting.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

A man emerged from the elevator, carrying an air of sophistication and quiet authority in his navy-blue tailored suit.

His presence drew attention; workers bowed slightly as he passed, his bodyguard following a few steps behind. He paused, scanning the gallery. His lips curved into a subtle smile.

When his eyes met mine, I didn’t look away but something in his gaze felt heavy, almost cold. Still, I held his stare until he turned and walked out. I exhaled slowly and returned to the paintings.

After what felt like hours, the elevator doors opened again. Marie stepped out, her expression different from when she’d left me quieter, more distant.